Boring Political Post
I try not to wade into politics. The whole thing is exhausting… But I’ll go ahead and cash in on the election fever so GS will get more hits and my five followers will stop asking me when the next update is going to be.
I try not to wade into politics. The whole thing is exhausting… But I’ll go ahead and cash in on the election fever so GS will get more hits and my five followers will stop asking me when the next update is going to be.
It’s Election Day kids! I did my usual – vote straight Democrat or, if no party affiliation, then vote for the person with an Irish last name. Sure signs that I was born in the wrong era.
It’s time for my bi-annual article about how much I hate Chris Van Hollen. I almost let it slide this year because, at some point around 2008, I gave up. I stopped following politics, I stopped watching the news… I just can’t face the world anymore. And, let me tell you, I feel like a […]
Nixon was easy. We could go anywhere, really, but James had been talking about the 600 at Watergate South, which wasn’t really the sort of place where we belonged…but they had a full bar. We somehow managed to get in and get a drink, but it was clear that our time was limited, so it […]
Back to DC. It was bourbon at the Hotel Washington for Eisenhower. I don’t know the connection, but I’m sure it seemed logical at the time. I also couldn’t tell you where we ended up for Truman, but a deep slice on my arm was bleeding steadily. I had several napkins stuck to it, fouled […]
“Thirty.” James said. “Coolidge.” “Notable points?” “None.” “Really?” “Really.”
Twenty-eight. Wilson. The First World War. We ended up in Silver Spring, Maryland, at the Quarry House. None of us could remember how that happened, but it did, and so we made the best of it. Energy was flagging all around, and David and James had opted for Vodka and Red Bull while I played […]
At Jaleo, the next president was easy for James. Twenty-six was Teddy Roosevelt, and as soon as I said the name James was on his feet. “Parks! Woodley Park! The Zoo Bar!”
We were in Chadwick’s, Georgetown, and still on Heineken. Like every bar in Georgetown, there was a pervasive atmosphere of evil and inhumanity. “Twenty.” James said into his bottle. “Um…” “Uh-oh!” “Oh, Garfield.”
James leaned close to my ear: “Fifteen?” “Buchanan.” “Penn State. Single.” “Yep.” “Singles club?” “No. Please.” “Pennsylvania Avenue?” “701. Mo’s Bar.” James leaned back. “Expensive.” “Yep. You’re paying.”