I went out in the icy weather early this morning to get a newspaper from the lawn and busted my ass.
Now before that would have made headline news.
Bush Busts Ass!
But now, who cares. Well, actually I do for I have to go around for a few days with a busted ass.
Dad always said that about Dan Quayle.
"It's hard enough serving as President without this albatross hanging around my neck and all those reporter's busting my ass for naming him as my VP."
Then he'd spell P-O-T-A-T-O!
You can't win with the press. But I see little of them anymore. For one thing, if they got too close to me on the ranch, I'd reach for my sling blade, some folks call it a kaiser blade, I call it a sling blade, and start whacking bushes. That would back them up a bit.