The Beer

Today's the day President Obama, the Professor, and the Cop all get together at the White House to have a beer and therefore solve the problems of race relations in the US.

In my mind's fondest imaginations, here's how today will go.

Professor: You know, it was a long day, I couldn't get into my house, I was pissed off, and there you were, accusing me of breaking into my own house. I just blew up.

Cop: Yeah, I know, and when you started yelling at me, that just got all over me somehow and I handled it all wrong. It should have been a non-event, you know?

Professor: Yeah, I know. I mean, we're grown men.

Cop: We are, but we sure didn't act that way, did we?

President: Anyone want another pretzel?

I doubt it'll go this way, and I have a feeling when it's all over they'll go back to hating each other. Because the world stinks that way.

There's one thing I do know, though. Another cop, an Officer Justin Barrett, got into hot water when he sent out an email calling the Professor a (please, his words, not mine) "banana-eating jungle monkey." He did this not once in his little email, but four times. So I know you can look for Officer Barrett on the Hucklebug's feared Fuck-Off list this week.

The officer promises us he's not a racist, and his lawyer swears the words were taken out of context, though I'm not quite sure how "banana-eating jungle monkey" could have less sting in any context imaginable.

The officer's quote: "I have so many friends of every type of culture and race you can name."

My reply: Not anymore!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Oh, Milo. Milo's stubborn. Milo's going to give me headaches if I don't stop being afraid to say no. Well, actually, to say, "NO!"