Chris Christie readies for another Obama hug...
"How singularly innocent I look this morning."
Still burning through lieutenant governors at the rate of one a year, SC governess Nikki Haley unbound her surgically repaired arm (jangled up from signing 39,000 letters of no consequence whatever) to veto a law giving librarians the power to exclude disruptive patrons. Too much power to the unelected, she said.
"Uh, Governess, there's a drunk peeing up the State Library again...."
"State Library? I thought I vetoed that. Not a core function of government. See if you can get the private sector to gift them a mop. I've got 1400 more letters to sign before I go to that Scott Walker fundraiser. "
Governor Rick Perry says his hip eyewear is to lay aside his swagguh for a more humble-and presidential-look.
Perry is so newly humble he didn't buy them. His wife did. They're by designer Jean Lafont. In good Republican cloth coat tradition, the frames are just over $500.
The lenses, being completely unnecessary, are free.
What a burden it must be to be the she-Clinton.
First, there's the Big Dog to deal with. Where is he? Who's he doing on Ron Burkle's jet?
Then there's the certitude that the she- Clinton is owed the presidency.
If nothing else, she's earned her turn.
For a meritocrat, that is a big deal.
You do your time. You stack your offices. If being a senator won't get you the golden ticket, you take the gig Obama offers you. You spend four years on an airplane- free, at last from Sinbad and the Balkans- and then you calculate how long till you can turn on your benefactor.
The one I feel for- aside from the long-suffering American public- is her daughter. It must be tough having a pollster tell you Mom needs to warm up: a baby scores well.
When I met Lauren Bacall in 1980 I'd only seen here in television and in the star-studded Murder on the Orient Express.
I stopped in at Blackwell's, the Oxford bookseller, one day looking for something else. They didn't do booksignings much, but there was a sign and a line and there she was.
Lauren Bacall radiated the star power of a Mexican border radio station.
She caught my eye and boy howdy I was in line with a copy of her book, Me.
I don't remember what we talked about when I reached her in line. I just remember thinking if she asked me to marry her on the spot, I'd have said yes on the spot.
And that's how I met one of the great Hollywood legends, who has died at the age of 89.
Politico has an interesting article up about the Republican obsession with appearing to offer something new while doing nothing of the sort.
Elise Stefanek, 30, went to work in the Bush White House out of college. She rose fast.
The end of the Bush Restoration pending, Stefanek looked for a new patron.
And that's where 21st Congressional District voters have cause to question her judgement as she seeks to be a New York congresscritter.
She went to work for Tim Pawlenty.
That was over in a minute. Elise turned up as a coauthor of the GOP platform,which puts the lie to claims she is anything but a good little Movement conservative.
Fresh from making America safe from abortion, homos and gun haters, she moved on to be Mitt Romney's policy director.
The Age of the 47 Percenters was Pawlenty-brief.
What does a young Republican gal with a Rolodex on steroids do next (besides questioning how she was wrong so much and so fast.
Elise moved to her family's upstate New York vacation house and started running for Congress while affecting an interest in the family plywood factory.
And now Karl Rove's writing her big checks.
She's new and fresh. And she'll know her place on day one.
Waldo is on holiday, contemplating a mint julep, the chill rising off the glass, and trying to adapt to a smart phone that mainly seems intent on making Waldo feel Not Smart. He feels like Stephen Hawking tapping out the unified theory of the universe.
Anyway, hie yourselves over to The Cotton Boll Conspiracy and read-well, everything- but, for Waldo's money-the excellent appreciation of Flannery O'Connor there.
Her collected letters, The Habit of Being, are a worthy companion to her literary works. When she and her mother went to Lourdes seeking a cure for her lupus, she wrote a friend that her policy was to stick to what she knew at home:"When in Rome, " she wrote, "do as you done in Milledgeville."
Colin Furze, a plumber and inventor from Stamford, Lincolnshire, has begun building the biggest fart machine ever, which he plans to place on top of the cliffs of Dover and aim across the Channel towards France. His hope is that the French, 21 miles away, will hear the blast.
The machine, which Furze will house in a pair of specially constructed buttocks, is a giant pulse valveless jet engine – as used in Nazi V-1 bombs during the Second World War – that creates a plume of fire to go along with its deafening roar. Furze hopes to mount the contraption on the cliffs of Dover on July 24, between 6 and 7pm.Of course, this begs the question of who keeps records on the escalation in size of fart machines through history.
CPAC also emphasizes how striking it is that there are so many conservative political rock stars. Liberals don’t have philosophical rock stars; they have to go to Hollywood to get people who pretend for a living to shill for them. Actors and actresses – who depend on scriptwriters to tell them what to say and directors to tell them how to say it – come out in masses to support President Teleprompter.
Where are the Left’s versions of Herman Cain, Ann Coulter, Mike Huckabee, Andrew Breitbart, Carly Fiorina, Sarah Palin, Paul Ryan, Marco Rubio, Laura Ingraham, Allen West, Connie Mack and Oliver North?
Who do the Left have? John Kerry? Nancy Pelosi? Harry Reid? Al Sharpton? Rachel Maddow? Keith Olbermann There are rock stars and then there are garage band losers.Two years on, another conclave- Tony Perkins Values Voters Summit (sounds like a "shop against the clock grocery store challenge, doesn't it?)- has nuveiled its rock star lineup: