I have a very special guest blogger today. Please welcome Sen. Joe Lieberman.
--Gen. JC Christian, patriot
Thanks General. I appreciate this opportunity to get better acquainted with your readers. Since this is my first attempt at blogging, I'm going to forgo discussing politics or issues and get a little personal, instead. Think of it as your "getting to know Joe" post. We'll have plenty of time to talk about politics later as I lead the Lieberman for America and Republican parties to a great bipartisan victory in 2012.
I like to think of myself as being a family man. My wife, kids, and grandchildren are the center of my life. Well, most of them anyway. I secretly hate my grandson, Benjamin.
It started at a Shabbat dinner a couple of years ago when he was 8. I love our Shabbat dinners. Hadassah makes the most incredible brisket. It's so tender on the inside, it almost melts in your mouth. But its deep brown exterior is nothing less than a masterwork of the culinary arts--brittle strings of well-cooked muscle protecting the tender heart of the brisket like a shell. There are few things I love more than the crunching I feel as I bite down on it. It's why I always eat the end pieces.
But that night, while I was busy teasing our little dog with a treat he'd never win, little Benjamin reached out and took my prized end pieces from the brisket plate. It was the greatest betrayal I've ever experienced; greater even than my rejection by the Democrats in 2000, and again, in 2006.
As I sat there watching the little bastard maul my beloved ends with his grubby little fingers, I made a vow to myself that Benjamin's vicious assault against my authority would not go unpunished.
Two months later, I invited Benjamin to have a Zayde day with me at the office. He was very excited. All my grandkids love coming down to the office. It's a big treat for them to spend time with an important man like their Zayde.
I took him back into my private office and locked the door. Then I placed a silver bowl on my desk. It was a gift from the Stamford Democratic Club. I stopped displaying it after their treachery in 2006, and only bring it out now and then to urinate in it. It always makes me laugh when I do that. But that day, it'd serve a different purpose.
After telling little Benjamin that we were going to do something very special, I asked him to put a few wood chips into the bowl. I then dowsed the pile with lighter fluid and lit it with a match. That delighted Benjamin. His little cheeks were pink with excitement. He'd never seen an open fire inside a building before.
Then, I sat down a removed my left show and sock, removed the shoe lace, tied it tightly around my pinky toe, and commanded Benjamin to watch closely, as I amputated it with the bayonet given to me by the Conservatives For Life.
Benjamin screamed and threw up.
Smiling now, I pieced my severed toe with the bayonet and lifted it over the fire to roast. After turning it over the flames for a few minutes, I ordered Benjamin to watch as I voraciously stripped the skin and flesh from the bone with my teeth and gulped it down.
I then turned to look into Benjamin's horrified eyes, and after spitting out my exquisitely manicured toenail, screamed, "See what happens when you take Zayde's brisket ends you greedy little fucking bastard!"
I felt a lot better after that. And even better, 10 months later, when I repeated it again! Revenge is good for the soul.
Elsewhere: Joe's the one.
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