Obama walks into a bar.
He sits down at the bar and says, “Give me a beer.”
The bartender, who was a 60’s hippy radical, says, “Sure, but it’s going to cost you. You’re going to have to get me a personal autograph from your friend Bill Ayers.”
Obama says, “Bill Ayers? I don’t know any Bill Ayers!”
The bartender says, “What? Yeah, right. You’ve been in here drinking with him for at least fifteen years.”
Obama: “Oh, you mean Bill Ayers! I thought you said Bill Airs!...Yeah, someone said some guy by that name lives somewhere around here...but I’m sorry man, he doesn’t sign anything he writes for me.”
A beer? Not a Mojito?