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A few weeks back, Bush and Rumsfeld were visiting wealthy Texas rancher Emmett Aubrey, and the three went for an early morning horseback ride. Bush, afraid of horses, rode in the saddle behind Rumsfeld.
A chill wind blew from the plains, and every so often Emmett would reach back under his horse's tail, procure a smearing of manure, and wipe it all over his lips.
"Good golly," Rumsfeld exclaimed at last. "What are you doing?"
"My lips get chapped in this wind," Aubrey said nonchalantly.
"And does that help?" asked the Defense Secretary.
"Keeps me from licking them," said the rancher.
"That's funny," said the Prez. "For some reason it makes mine worse."
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