Bend Over and Kiss

Midgets Goodbye

It's verboten to use the word midget.   To not roil sensitivities, "little people" should be used.  In addition to not using "midget", you should also not use the word "midge".  They're little flies, you anti-dipteran.  Not using midge could save your life one day.

One day you're at an outdoor cocktail party rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, because Hillary Clinton and the Democratic party have made everyone rich and famous.  There are quite a few little people at the party, three of whom have taken the first, second and third places in a limbo contest.

You're on your fourth cocktail of sour mash and you're beginning to become a little careless as you sip from the edge of what was once a can for tomatoes or maybe green beans, and thinking how wonderful it is now that everyone could afford such luxuries.  One sip later, your cocktail starts resembling a Bloody Mary as blood from your cut lip starts mixing in the sour mash.

"Damn it.  I've cut my lip" is heard by a dozen or so party guests milling about.  Light-headedness and a bleeding lip agitate you to the point that the once minor nuisance of little flies flitting about take on the terror of the black ops helicopters that swarmed the Aunt Jemima syrup factory where you used to work last month.  The plant's managers were arrested and charged with a hate crime.  Sometimes you think political correctness has gone too far.

"These midges are little, annoying terrors!", you scream.  All of the party guests hear this, including the limbo winner, Moe Hill.  Moe wasn't in the best of moods either.  His fifth sour mash cocktail looked like a Bloody Mary.

Moe approaches you and yells, "Who the hell do you think you are, calling me a midge?"  (Moe knew that a midge could also mean a tiny person.)

You become enraged.  You pick Moe Hill up and throw his 60 pounds into a fountain.  Removing himself from the fountain, a soaking wet Moe Hill pulls a Derringer from his vest pocket, aims at your head, and fires.

The moral of this story is don't throw a Moe Hill into a fountain.  It would also be wise not to make mole hills into mountains, but America has already created such a mountain chain from mole hills for this to hardly matter any more.  Just one more Hill(ary) and you can kiss your ass goodbye.