Guest BloggerToday, we received some help from a guest blogger, notably our pal over at AdminWorm. He was somehow able to obtain an exclusive "speech" from none other than Garrison Keillor.
Greetings, and thank you for joining me at this celebration commemorating completion of the first day’s shooting of the Prairie Home Companion movie. (applause) As a great man once said—okay, it was me (laughter)—the difference between an homage and satire is the I.Q. of those portrayed. With that in mind, thank you for participating in this homage to Minnesotans! (raucous laughter and applause) Just kidding, of course. I can think of several reasons why I’m eternally grateful to the citizens of this fine state. Several million reasons, to be exact, and they’re all in a vault in Switzerland! (laughter, glasses clinking)
I trust the foie gras is to your liking. (murmurs of approval) That’s genuine, Minnesota force-fed goose, I’ll have you know. My cook, Esmeralda, bless her heart, balked a little at providing pate for 120 people. As usual, however, reason prevailed. I simply told her of an impending IRS audit, and darned if I seem to have lost my copy of her Green Card. (laughter)
Much as the livers of 1,000 noble geese burst from compulsory over-indulgence, so to am I bursting with pride at this opportunity to help the state of Minnesota in its seemingly endless and thus far fruitless quest for relevance. I firmly believe that one day in the not-so-distant future, Minnesota will no longer be referred to as flyover land. (scattered applause) Unfortunately, I fear this will only occur after rampant urban sprawl renders Minneapolis and St. Paul suburbs of Chicago. (howls, laughter, stomping of feet)
Are there any rubes here? (shouts of “no” and “yes” and “What’s a rube?”) If so, I’ll explain my jokes as I go along, just in case a rube wandered in unawares, mistaking this for a rest area. (laughter) I don’t hear banjo music though, so I think we’re thus far rube-free, thanks to new Rube-B-Gone with DEET. (laughter) Whenever I encounter a genuine rube—usually while signing autographs after the radio show—I like to tell them my favorite rube joke: what’s the best way to insult a rube without them realizing it? Use polysyllabic words! (huge laughs) While they’re still scratching their heads, I’m home safely ensconced on the chaise lounge, sipping my third Scotch. (guffaws, snickers)
Such cinematic luminaries among us. Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin, who need a hit more than the Minnesota Twins (boos, hisses). Just kidding, folks: it’s satire, remember? Woody Harrelson—Woody Harrelson? Who in the world cast him? (laughter) Well, at least no one will suffer glaucoma symptoms for the duration of the shoot (hoots, catcalls, toking sounds). And of course, Director Robert Altman who, like me, enjoys a love/hate relationship with the Proletariat: hate them, love their money! (gales of laughter)
Excitement about this project was such that of everyone I asked to appear in the film, only two were ultimately unable to appear. Sadly, I refer to Lindsay Lohan’s bosoms. (laughter) Young Ms. Lohan, here’s the sad truth. I didn’t cast you because I sensed your acting potential in Herbie: Fully Loaded. I cast you because that once-heaving bosom of yours was the only shot we had at getting folks under 55 to see this movie. (laughter, wolf whistles) Immerse yourself in the role, dear: while you’re in Minnesota, surreptitiously attend a Lutheran potluck, or two, or twelve. Just eat something, for the love of Pete! This is the Prairie Home Companion movie, not Schindler’s List II! (laughter and applause)
Finally, I’d like to leave you with a limerick. I can’t move my bowels in the morning without creating a limerick, but for whatever reason Minnesotans rank them up there with the works of Sandburg and Yates:
There once was a group of elites,
Needed rubes to fill theater seats,
So they lured them hence,
To the theatres, whence,
They fleeced them with nary a bleat.
See you in the morning! (applause)Thank you so much for your submission, Mr. Guest Blogger. Join us tomorrow for some pure, raw slander, just the way you like it.