Damned good BBQ. for a Yankee

I met a lump of charcoal that was more intelligent than GW Bush.

Indeed I did while preparing my monthly Southern BBQ pork shoulder feast.

He spouted several obscure mathematical formulas, argued vehemently about
the current state of foreign relations, recited 40 of Shakespeare’s sonnets,
reviewed the exact procedure for the removal of ovarian cysts, predicted a
nasty turn for the new world economy and kicked my ass at a game of chess (I
moved his chess pieces for him.)

After some haggling, I sadly, tearfully put the match to him and his still
silent brethren.

He died among friends…a hero…for the sake of good BBQ…not probed, poked, prodded and
tossed into an anonymous blast furnace by cloaked masked CIA/FBI/Secret Service medical
fiends.

Besides, we can’t very well have a piece of charred hardwood with more
intelligence than our dear, dear President. I am a patriot above all!

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