In a move that has liberal, hand-wringing, bed-wetting peace activists like Al Gore scratching their heads in wonderment, the august and esteemed “Nobul Peace Prize Committee” shined a much-needed light into the lives and work of Palouse cattle ranchers by bestowing this over-hyped global prize designed to foster world peace and harmony on Festus Martin; 51, a local rancher and self described “free thinker” and “coyote rights activist”.
“Well, I was out in the barn working on that doohickey thing that keeps breaking on my tractor when all of a sudden a bunch of European types come traipsing up in fancy suits and dainty church shoes and tried to shove some shiny medal in my hand with some bearded guy on it while avoiding the little piles left by my cows after that mini-stampede the other day. I could not understand half of what them fellers said, given their funny accents and all that hand waving and shoe scraping – not to mention the fact that my dog Blue ain’t never bit some fancy-pants European before – and may never get another chance again, poor dog!!! It was quite lively there for a few minutes.” said the appreciative yet humbled cattle rancher. “Once I figured out that they were not a bunch of communists come out to collectivize my farm or make me wear funny clothes like berets or stove-pipe pants, tensions eased back a bit” said Martin. “Although they would not assist me in dipping those new cows from Ewan or help move that hay into the barn, they were all-right fellas - even if they come from one of those Satan-loving 'social democracies' where being a 'commie' is not even a crime!! Plus, that medal is just about the right thickness so that I can even up that leg on the kitchen table so the wife quits nagging me about it every time I try to eat, for Pete’s sake” said the far-sighted and resourceful rancher. (parody)
“Well, I was out in the barn working on that doohickey thing that keeps breaking on my tractor when all of a sudden a bunch of European types come traipsing up in fancy suits and dainty church shoes and tried to shove some shiny medal in my hand with some bearded guy on it while avoiding the little piles left by my cows after that mini-stampede the other day. I could not understand half of what them fellers said, given their funny accents and all that hand waving and shoe scraping – not to mention the fact that my dog Blue ain’t never bit some fancy-pants European before – and may never get another chance again, poor dog!!! It was quite lively there for a few minutes.” said the appreciative yet humbled cattle rancher. “Once I figured out that they were not a bunch of communists come out to collectivize my farm or make me wear funny clothes like berets or stove-pipe pants, tensions eased back a bit” said Martin. “Although they would not assist me in dipping those new cows from Ewan or help move that hay into the barn, they were all-right fellas - even if they come from one of those Satan-loving 'social democracies' where being a 'commie' is not even a crime!! Plus, that medal is just about the right thickness so that I can even up that leg on the kitchen table so the wife quits nagging me about it every time I try to eat, for Pete’s sake” said the far-sighted and resourceful rancher. (parody)
1 comment:
Festus Martin?!? I thought they gave that medal to Uncle Fester, for inventin' a way to light a bulb in one's mouth!
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