To: president@whitehouse.gov
from: jimwriter9@aol.com
re: Don't eat Icons.

Dear Mr. President,

You're not going to believe this!

A few weeks ago, I went into a retaurant with my mom and dad here in California and sat down at a booth minding my own business. Before I knew what was going on, the waitress told us that YOU had sat in the very booth where we were just two days before! Imagine how pleased I was! And when the waitress told me that I was seated in the exact place where you sat -- my butt felt so honored! It kinda makes you wonder, though, about where you sit. You never know who you're rubbing butts with.

Anyway, I have to tell you what happened. It's real important ... so lean in close ...

I've got bad news for you, Mr. President. The waitress told me what you ordered, and it wasn't pretty. She said you'd ordered the buffalo burger. How disgusting! Is that the kind of thing people in Arkansas eat? I'm saddened to think that your press secretary didn't whisper something in your ear when you ordered that. Something like "Mr. President, most Americans would be so disgusted at the thought of eating buffalo that they might even throw up."

Now, I can forgive you for eating a disgusting animal. But Mr. President, are you aware that buffalos were endangered for a long time? At the turn of the century, there were only 500 left. Sure, there's a few thousand now, but you're not helping matters much by slamming buffalo meat into the Presidential gullet, if you know what I mean.

And besides -- buffalos are an American Icon! We even had them on the backs of our nickels for awhile! That's why they're called "buffalo nickels". How can you eat an icon? Why don't you just bar-B-Q a bald eagle while you're at it? At dinnertime do you clang the Liberty Bell? Well Don't -- it's got a crack in it! It's fragile, okay? And so is our delicate food chain. I'm not sure what buffalos eat, but I'm sure there are too many of them now -- probably destroying crops, no thanks to you.

If news gets out of this, it could very easily cost you the election. C'mon -- don't blow it like that again! We need you!

I'm sure this was just an oversight on your part. I'm willing to forgive you. In fact, I'm even more willing to make a deal. If you promise to say hi to my mother in your next public speech (her name is Lori), I won't alert the media of your culinary indiscretion. Thanks -- she'll just die of embarassment! What a hoot!

Regards,

Jim Etchison

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