Just going to show that San Francisco really is the center of Satanic evil in all of America — and we couldn’t be prouder — the city is leading the competition to become home to California’s $3 billion stem cell research headquarters.
Back in November when 51% of the nation re-elected George “The W is for Witless” Bush, the state of California thumbed its nose at the prez’s distaste for using unborn embryos for anything other than an omelette and approved Proposition 71 in favor of funding stem cell research. Cities up and down the state vied to get the nod as the epicenter of human embryo scraping and San Francisco has come out way ahead of the pack, owing to its extremely low cost of living, no doubt.
And all this reminds me of a joke that Leslie told me over brunch on Sunday…
A woman walks into a shop in Chinatown and sees a very unusual bronze statue in the form of a rat. The proprietor noticed her interests and approaches. “This is a very special figurine,” he tells her. “How much is it?” she asks, clearly interested. “$25 for the statue alone, and another $100 to hear the story.” She raises a brow and looks at him. “Story?” He nods, smiling.
Thinking this is just another shake down, but determined to get the goods, she says, “I’ll skip the story, thanks, but I’ll take the statue.” The shop owner shrugs, says, “As you wish,” and delivers the large rat into her waiting hands.
Shortly after she exits the store, she hears a sound behind her. Looking back, she sees about a dozen rats are shuffling along the curb, seemingly following her. Quickening her step, the sounds grow in volume and she realizes that dozens of rats are now following her, as if she were the Piper of Hamlin or something.
More and more rats come from everywhere and, panicked, she begins to run. Before long, hundreds if not thousands — perhaps every rat in San Francisco — is behind her. Finding herself at the bay, she tosses the bronze statue into the ocean and watches as the rats dive in after it, flailing and scrambling over each other until they are all drowned.
She returns to the shop after her ordeal and approaches the owner. “So,” he smirks, “now do you want to hear the story?”
“No,” she answers, “but I was wondering if you have a statue like that shaped like a Republican.”