Once upon a time, in an Earth yet unknown to the son of Adam, strolled Mu'ammar son of Al-Qathafi, head wrapped in peacock-feathered scarf and dressed in tiger-skin slacks. A camel suddenly drops dead on the horizon simultaneously allowing Qathafi's most fearsome nemesis, George Walker son of Bush materialise before him and out of thin air.
With crocked eyes studied Al-Qathafi the primitive-looking Western President who was himself butt-decorated with the finest rat-skin undies. With a cry raised Bush his foot, holding it lovingly with both hands then losing balance to fall butt first. None but a splinter found itself buried deep in one of his tender Texan toes as he appeared on top of it in its dimension, stepping on it and crushing it into his flesh. Within fractions of a second or so, the humped Qathafi swiftly Jedi-moves, stretches his wrinkled limps, extends his straw fingers forward, extracts the wooden pin and rests next to the hurt rancher. Smiling he said;
"How much I wonder, does the average American earn a year...?" In an attempt to sooth the president's pain and to take the cowboy's mind off the dearest loss Bush ever incurred in his entire life; A one and only precious drop of blood..
"A.. about $500,000" squeaked the President.
"And how much I wonder, get spent of this amount in that year..." Slowly shifting his arm around his foe, tightening his grip.
"A.. about $1" broken-winged, whimpered the Eagle of the West.
"Hmmm" hummed the Arabian Knight, chewing dry roots and dead leaves "And what is done, I wonder with the remaining sum...?" mumbled the Bedouin, tightening his grip a notch more around his dangerous opponent.
"Em we, em b-believe in democracy.. and fre-freedom.. never question such.. things.." sniffling, eyes watering. "A.. and what about your people, f-f-friend?" wept out little G. Walker.
"Hemmmff.." suddenly bored to the bone, the Sheik yawned and answered "quite a lot.. not as much as you said, but quite a lot.. roughly a $1,000" deep in thoughts now, eyes darting in odd directions, vision locking a locust!
Bewildered Bush stopped sobbing and stared into the dark Arabian eyes "A.. and how much is s-spent a-out of it?"
"Arm, not much more than $75,000" replied Mu'ammar calmly, examining the grasshoppers he just caught then leisurely stuffing it into his mouth.
"A.. and.. how can that be...?" gob-smacked the rancher rocked and swayed and rocked and asked again "A.. all that difference.. wh-where do they earn it f-from?" forgetting all about his little toe's tragedy..
"Democracy my friend, we too never question such things.." winked Al-Qathafi, a pine tree exploded materialising him out and into another dimension, where yet another encounter takes place many light years from now and none but with the Mad Methodist Nelson Aka Rolihlahla son of Mandela.
Until then, please don't do drugs.
Originally posted by PeachyMan, I wish I had your LSD back in the day....got anymore?
Once upon a time, in an Earth yet unknown to the son of Adam, strolled Mu'ammar son of Al-Qathafi, head wrapped in peacock-feathered scarf and dressed in tiger-skin slacks. A camel suddenly drops dead on the horizon simultaneously allowing Qathafi's most fearsome nemesis, George Walker son of Bush materialise before him and out of thin air.
With crocked ey ...[text shortened]... lahla son of Mandela.
Until then, please don't do drugs.
