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Senator Hillary Clinton, on an airliner bound for Texas, finds herself seated next to a weathered older man in boots, a western snap shirt, faded jeans, and a cowboy hat.

Snickering, and thinking herself above the old cowboy, she decides to make sport of him.

“You know,” she says, “I’ve heard these flights go much more quickly if you strike up a conversation with a fellow passenger.  Let’s talk.”

The cowboy looks at her wryly and says, “Well I s’pose that’d be all right, m’am.  What’d ya like to discuss?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Hillary with a slight hint of sarcasm.  ”How about Iraq?”

“Hmm,” says the cowboy, sensing an attempt to perhaps belittle him.  ”That could be an interesting topic.  But let me ask you a question first:
Horses, cows, and deer all eat the same stuff…grass…  yet a deer passes little pellets, a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse makes muffins of dried poop.  Why do you suppose that is?”

Dumbfounded, Clinton replies,  ”I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“So tell me, then,” says the cowboy with a wry smile, “how is it that you feel qualified to discuss something as important as Iraq when you don’t know crap?”