Senator Hillary Clinton, on an airliner bound for Texas, finds herself seated next to an older, weathered man in a western snap shirt, faded jeans, and a cowboy hat. Thinking herself above the old cowboy, she decides to make sport of him.
“You know,” she says, “I’ve heard these flights go much more quickly if you strike up a conversation with a fellow passenger. So, let’s talk.”
The cowboy looks at her wryly and says, “Well I s’pose that’d be all right, m’am. What’d ya like to discuss?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” says Hillary with a slight hint of sarcasm. “How about Iraq?”
“Hmm,” says the cowboy, sensing an attempt to perhaps belittle him, “That could be an interesting topic. But let me ask you a question first? Horses, cows, and deer all eat the same stuff–grass. Yet a deer passes little pellets, a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse makes muffins of dried poop. Why do you suppose that is?”
Dumbfounded, Senator Clinton replies, “I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“So tell me, then,” says the cowboy with a smile. “How is it that you feel qualified to discuss Iraq when you don’t know shit?”
