Any Jesse Jackson joke is good

One day in the future, Jesse Jackson has a heart-attack and
dies. He
>immediately goes to hell, where the devil is waiting for him.
>
>“I don’t know what to do here,” says the devil. “You are
on
my list, but
>I
>have no room for you. You definitely have to stay here, so
I’ll tell you
>what I’m going to do. I’ve got a couple of folks here who
weren’t quite
>as bad
>as you. I’ll let one of them go, but you have to take their
place.
>I’ll
>even let YOU decide who leaves.”
>
>Jesse thought that sounded pretty good, so the devil opened
the door to
>the
>first room. In it, was Ted Kennedy and a large pool of
water. He kept
>diving in, and surfacing, empty handed. Over, and over, and
over he dove
>in and
>surfaced with nothing. Such was his fate in hell.
>
>“No,” Jesse said. “I don’t think so. I’m not a good
swimmer,
and I don’t
>think I could do that all day long.”
>
>The devil led him to the door of the next room. In it was Al
Gore with a
>sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing
that hammer,
>time
>after time after time. “No, this is no good, I’ve got this
problem with
>my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do
was break
>rocks
>all day,”
>commented Jesse.
>
>The devil opened a third door.
>
>Through it, Jesse saw Bill Clinton, lying on the floor with
his arms tied
>over his head, and his legs restrained in a spread-eagle
pose. Bent over
>him
>was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best. Jesse looked
at this in
>shocked disbelief, and finally said, “Yeah man, I can handle
this.”
>
>The devil smiled and said . . . . . . (This is priceless)
>
> v v v v v v
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>“OK, Monica, you’re free to go.”