My fever dream with Robert E. Lee

tl;dr

 

Bubs, too bad you don't have to give a history presentation in front of the entire class in San Dimas.

 

Bubs you should have taken him to Taco Bell for a black taco.

too bad the dream did not go on longer, so many more questions you could have asked him:

- Why did he give the go ahead for Pickets Charge when he did not have the high ground?

- How does he feel about the Kennedy's being buried on his farm?

- Did he know that he had a car named after him?

- Does he feel that NASCAR should ban the confederate flag?

 

Without a doubt, the loudest I've EVER laughed while reading this board. 24-karat comedy gold.

 

Bubs > Tebow.

 

Robert E. Lee was not racist. You take that back, dammit!

 

BTW, this thread is a great example of why I think that SportsJournalists.com talent could easily write a better, funnier show each week than the SNL staff.

 

Awesome. That's the first thing I thought of, too.

The second thing was the image of General Lee preparing for battle, only to get Andy Capp's Cheddar Fry residue all over his musket.

Just truly outstanding stuff, Bubbler.

 

Awesome. The only dreams I get are weird ones involving Celia Cruz suddenly speaking English in an interview or covering a song in English.

 

I had an Arlington Cemetary rant from Lee, but I left it on the cutting room floor. Couldn't figure out how to end it, plus this whole thing was getting too long.

It would have had something to do with Lee claiming that Gen. Montgomery Meigs didn't put Arlington Cemetary on his land as the ultimate eff you to the Confederacy, as is sometimes claimed, but more to do with jealousy because Meigs' wife continually chose Lee during private sex parties in pre-war D.C. and raved about his prodigious talents in the sack.

 

Bubbler > Greatness.

 

Yeah, that's a better dream than the one I had this past weekend. Larry David lived next door to me and dropped in for one of his frequent visits. He was watching Sammie for Jeff. While we were making corned beef sandwiches there was a knock at the door. My buddy Tom Araya was in the neighborhood and had decided to drop by as he and I hadn't seen each other in a few weeks. It was quickly decided that Larry, Tom, and I would partake in a game of Scrabble. Sammie wasn't at all interested in playing so she contented herself with watching television.

Next thing I knew Susie was standing in the kitchen watching us play Scrabble with an exasperated look on her face. "This is just great. That fat fuck Jeff is supposed to be watching Sammie and what does he do? He hands her off to Larry so he can watch her. So what happens? The four-eyed fuck is in here playing Scrabble while Sammie's in the living room watching "The L Word" on television. What the fuck is wrong with you Larry?"

Susie walks over to the table and looks at the Scrabble board. Immediately her wrath is redirected to Tom. "What. The. Fuck? What is wrong with you you long-haired fuck. Look at these words: bomb; skeleton; annihilation; zyklon? What in the fuck? Who plays Scrabble and puts zyklon as a word?"

Tom defends his word. "It's on a 'triple word score' space."

"I don't give a fuck if it's 'octuple word score,'" Susie responds. "You don't play words like that."

Turning to me she starts anew. "But of course who's the mastermind behind this whole thing? Sick fuck Bad Guy Zero. How could you let him play words like that in front of your Jew friend Larry? Oh yes...it's because you're a SICK FUCKING GENTILE!"

"I have a twist of Jew" I sheepishly respond.

"That's it. I'm taking Sammie and we're going home. And I don't ever want to see a single one of you fucks ever again." And with that Susie was on her way.

The three of us sat stunned for a minute before snapping back into the present moment. And that's when I woke up to discover that Michelini's "Frolic" was playing on the classical station I leave on while I'm sleeping.