You know me, pal -- your ol' buddy, governor of Texas and the man with the reelly, reelly good hair. I am writing to tell you what to do in the wake of this here Hurricane Katrina. Numero Uno, you got to send money to Texas. Yup, that is the primero responsibility you got, and since -- you don't mind my saying so -- you ain't done too good so far, I suggest you listen to me on this, instead of making another dumb mistake, like sending aid to Florida.
Florida may be run by your brother, but he's got dick for hair and his schools are already funded, see? Whereas in Texas, we have generously opened some of our finest air-conditioned sports arenas to these soggy refugees from Louisiana so they can sit and drip on real Astroturf. As your momma, that great Houstonian Barbara Bush, said after visiting the Astrodome, those people are better off now because "they were underprivileged anyway."
She also said the idea they would stay in Texas is "a scary thought" -- but hey, that's just because she hasn't considered the fiscal implications for our schools.
Dubya, ol' pal, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and Texas is standing right in the path of some beneficial fallout from Hurricane Katrina. See, you and the federal government will pay Texas to educate the schoolchildren of Louisiana, which will be real handy for us on account of we don't have the money to educate the schoolchildren of Texas. We'll just take a nice, generous payoff from y'all, meld it in to our underfunded schools and -- viola! -- education all 'round.
I ain't been this happy since the legs fell off Nell's hamster. After I called two special sessions this summer to solve the school finance crisis and not a damn thing was accomplished, people said I'd have to learn to be a fool. Said I couldn't get a whore a date on a troop train. (They've all been taking lessons in how to talk Texan from Dan Rather.)
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