"Bill, I have a plan to win back middle America in 2020!”
"Great Hillary, but how?" asked Bill.
"We'll get some cheesy clothes and shoes like most middle-class Americans wear, then stop at the pound and pick up a Labrador retriever. Then we'll go to a nice old country bar in Montana and show them how much admiration and respect we have for the hard-working people living there.”
They did that and found just the place they were looking for in Bozeman, Montana. With the dog in tow, they walked inside and stepped up to the bar.
The Bartender took a step back and said, "Hey! Aren't you Bill and Hillary Clinton?”
They ordered a round of bourbon for the whole bar and started chatting up a storm with anyone who would listen.
A few minutes later, a grizzled old rancher came in, walked up to the Labrador, lifted its tail, looked underneath, shrugged his shoulders and walked out. A few moments later in came another old rancher. He walked up to the dog, lifted its tail, looked underneath, scratched his head and left the bar.
For the next hour another dozen ranchers came in, lifted the dog's tail, and left shaking their heads.
Finally, Hillary asked, "Why did all those old ranchers come in and look under the dog's tail? Is it some sort of custom?”
"Heck no," said the bartender. "Someone's out there running around town, claiming there's a Labrador retriever In here with two assholes!"
"Great Hillary, but how?" asked Bill.
"We'll get some cheesy clothes and shoes like most middle-class Americans wear, then stop at the pound and pick up a Labrador retriever. Then we'll go to a nice old country bar in Montana and show them how much admiration and respect we have for the hard-working people living there.”
They did that and found just the place they were looking for in Bozeman, Montana. With the dog in tow, they walked inside and stepped up to the bar.
The Bartender took a step back and said, "Hey! Aren't you Bill and Hillary Clinton?”
They ordered a round of bourbon for the whole bar and started chatting up a storm with anyone who would listen.
A few minutes later, a grizzled old rancher came in, walked up to the Labrador, lifted its tail, looked underneath, shrugged his shoulders and walked out. A few moments later in came another old rancher. He walked up to the dog, lifted its tail, looked underneath, scratched his head and left the bar.
For the next hour another dozen ranchers came in, lifted the dog's tail, and left shaking their heads.
Finally, Hillary asked, "Why did all those old ranchers come in and look under the dog's tail? Is it some sort of custom?”
"Heck no," said the bartender. "Someone's out there running around town, claiming there's a Labrador retriever In here with two assholes!"
