Maniaq

I wonder how many people here tonight remember Hubert Humphrey. He used to be a senator. From time to time you read something about him pinning a medal on somebody or making a speech, or every now and then you read something in one of those Where Are They Now? columns. Whatever became of Deanna Durbin and Hubert Humphrey and so on. This became quite an issue last winter at the time of Winston Churchill's funeral when President Johnson was too ill to go and somebody suggested that he send Hubert and he said "Hubert who?" And all America was singing...

Whatever became of Hubert?
Has anyone heard a thing?
Once he shone on his own,
Now he sits home alone,
And waits for the phone to ring.

Once a fiery liberal spirit,
Ah, but now when he speaks he must clear it.
Second fiddle's a hard part, I know,
When they don't even give you a bow.

"We must protest his treatment," Hubert,
Says each newspaper reader.
As someone remarked to Schubert,
"Take us to your Lieder."

(Sorry about that)

Whatever became of Hubert?
We miss you, so tell us please.
Are you sad? Are you cross? Are you gathering moss
While you wait for the boss to sneeze?

Does Lyndon, recalling when he was VP,
Say, "I'll do unto you like they did unto me?"
Do you dream about staging a coup?
Hubert, what happened to you?

Pewien przewodnik w Gorach Skalistych w USA mial bardzo zla slawe. Co zabieral jakas grupe turystow na wyprawe, zawsze ktos ginal. Ww koncu zainteresowala sie tym policja. W sledztwie wyszlo na jaw, z zly przewodnik jest patologicznym morderca. Sad orzekl kare smierci. W dniu wykonania wyroku posadzono go na krzesle elektrycznym. Wlaczono prad, ale po dziesieciu minutach okazalo sie, z delikwent wciaz zyje i z tajemniczym usmiechem stwierdza:
- Przeciez wszyscy wiedza, z jestem zlym przewodnikiem.

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