George vs. The Government

This is an interview I had with George earlier today after my family barbeque had concluded.

“That goddamn white ass cracka is not my president.” George exclaimed as he sat on a bench in front of the Piggly Wiggly.

Cracka or cracker is a derogatory, slang term for white people in the south. I am chronicling my experiences from today’s earlier encounter so bear with me. Posts such as these play havoc with Microsoft Word.

“Who do you want as your president?” I asked inquisitively.

“That nigga lady, Condo Rice.” George exclaimed. He was really worked up over this.

“George, Condo is as conservative as they come. She is a puppet of G. W.” I said adding fuel to the fire.

“G. W.?” George asked.

“That monkey, George W. Bush.” I replied.

I am pretty neutral in political matters but I do think G. W. looks like a chimpanzee.

“Goddamn niggas don’t know dey place anymore.” He said looking frustrated and commenting about Dr. Condoleezza Rice.

“What do you think about Rumsfeld?” I asked.

“Is he a white cracka?” George asked.

“He is our secretary of defense and pretty white.” I replied. “He has a comb over.”

“Fuck that white ass cracka.” George said. “He don’t own this nigga.”

George was quickly growing tired of this line of questioning. I thought it was quite intriguing.

“Fuck all this shit. Will you buy dis brotha a beer?” George asked.

The intelligent portion of our conversation had ended. I bought him a Milwaukee’s Best Ice Beer and smoked a cigarette as we sat on the bench in front of the store. The sun slowly set and I was soon to head for home.