Recently overheard

Rumsfeld and the recently ousted President are at a quiet bar and discussing Bush's legacy over drinks. Bush, famously a teetotaler, is on his third Shirley Temple, while the former Secretary has just ordered his fourth double scotch.

Suddenly an old drunk at the opposite end of the bar totters to his feet and shouts at the former President. "You're mother's a dirty tramp!" he exclaims.

Rumsfeld is clearly offended, but Bush says nothing.

"If I had a nickel for every time I've screwed your mother," says the man. "I'd be rich!"

Still, Bush says nothing, but the man wasn't finished.

"She loves it rough," he went on, "and she loves it filthy. The rougher and filther, the better!"

Finally, Rumsfeld can take no more. "Golly, Mr. President, how can you let him talk about your mother that way?"

Bush nods and, reluctantly, addresses the man. "Go home, dad. You're drunk."
* * * *
Rumsfeld is taken aback. "Mr. President, that's not your father."

"Oh, no?" snaps the 43rd. "Then how does he know all that stuff about Mom?"