Unless It’s Mr. Edwards
One of the most beautiful women I know is also a waitress at my favorite restaurant —a great Vietnamese place in South Austin— and, today, she told me that I remind her of her dearly departed horse because his name was also Toby. Because of the name. The name makes her happy, so when she sees me, it…uh…
I’ve been going into this place for years and I think that’s maybe the most she’s ever said to me at one time. Naturally, I’ve taken the time this afternoon and evening to completely zapruder the hell out of her completely unprecedented remarks and to contemplate polluting myself to their memory, but I am more bemused than anything else. If bemused still means horny.
Oh, and who cares that John Edwards endorsed BHO? Keith Olbermann, who is a miserable propagandist craphound, seems to think Edwards’ coronation today of the Southside Messiah is far more important than the 2-to-1 shellacking Mrs. Clinton gave to him in West Virginia yesterday. Get a clue, Olbamamann. People know what this race is about.
