WW2 hero and former President of these United States George H.W. Bush is ensnared in a lurid controversy that has shaken the globe, along with a few heinies. Not one but two fair maidens have alleged that the wheelchair-bound 93-year-old tried to cop a feel during group photos.
No cigars, potted plants, or sunken Oldsmobiles were found at the crime scenes, but the similar descriptions show a patriarchal pattern of predatory pinching. When several women swarm the seated nonagenarian, he slowly reaches his hand around the damsel to his right and … well … it’s too disturbing for me to describe, so I’ll let the ace journalists at Deadspin take it from here.
Thank you. Thank you and thank you, please be seated. Thank you. [Points at random person in crowd, feigning recognition] Yes, thank you. Please. You can sit down. [Fake laugh.] Seriously. Come on. Thank you. OK … enough. Sit down!
I thank Kid Rock for that very generous introduction and for all the support that you and your stripper escorts have given me. You know that America is greatly indebted to Mr. Rock for his years of courageous and visionary … rap/rock/country stuff. You brew beer too, right? Cool.
Anyhoo, with Senator Flake’s announcement that he will not seek re-election as US Senator from the great state of Arizona, many, many people have recommended that I throw my hat in the ring. So many people.
Last month, we lost iconic character actor Harry Dean Stanton. A rangy Kentuckian with a prematurely craggy face, he was a fixture in American cinema for the past half century. His presence drew the viewer into his world-weary eyes, wondering about the depth behind them. All the while, he possessed an innate cool; a Hollywood version of Johnny Cash.
Reading various encomia about his passing, I came across one tidbit I can’t stop thinking about. A few years back, his similarly spooky friend David Lynch posed a question to Stanton: “How would you like to be remembered?”
Stanton’s answer: “It doesn’t matter.”