Marrying into Politics
Hey folks! I honestly have nothing to post for today, and time is short so I'm not going to blather on. I had a question of the day that I wanted to ask, but I honestly can't remember what it was, so I'm not going to sweat it.
I guess there is one thing. Last night, I had an odd dream about my house (which was not my actual house, and inhabited by people who I knew but didn't know) was the site of a Bridge game, or a barbecue, or something, that was a fundraiser for Senator McCain. This wasn't noteworthy in and of itself, as I'm an avid Bridge player and often hold informal fundraisers for Senator McCain in my home... Well, okay, that's not true. Anyway, what was noteworthy about the dream was that Senator and Mrs. McCain were actually slated to attend, but before they arrived (the dream ended prior to their arrival, unfortunately) they were preceded by none other than Meghan McCain, the future First Hottie, and a bunch of her friends.
Noteworthy about this is an ancient pact between myself, the Fly, and Friar Dave. When President Bush was elected in 2000, the good Friar and I made a pact to marry the Bush Twins. Being quite mild-mannered, Friar Dave was slated to marry Barbara, who hadn't been caught with alcohol. I was slated to marry Jenna, who was a bit more of a wild child than her sister. We even had a plan: Friar Dave, then focused on media studies, was going to be a White House press aide, while I, your intrepid host, was going to (at that point) be a young military attache to the White House. Here it is, more than seven years later, and Jenna Bush is married, so our pact has reached an impasse. Solution? You guessed it: Meghan McCain. She's a hottie, she's conservative, she's about my age, and I was supporting Senator McCain when every radio talk show host except Medved was claiming, erroneously, that McCain is liberal.
Now, how to pull this off... Hmmm...
Today's Friday, which means that unless I can think of that question at some point, I won't have another blog post up until Monday. Have a safe weekend, come back swinging on Monday, and remember: only you young taxpayers can guarantee that Father Time's Social Security checks keep on comin'.
I guess there is one thing. Last night, I had an odd dream about my house (which was not my actual house, and inhabited by people who I knew but didn't know) was the site of a Bridge game, or a barbecue, or something, that was a fundraiser for Senator McCain. This wasn't noteworthy in and of itself, as I'm an avid Bridge player and often hold informal fundraisers for Senator McCain in my home... Well, okay, that's not true. Anyway, what was noteworthy about the dream was that Senator and Mrs. McCain were actually slated to attend, but before they arrived (the dream ended prior to their arrival, unfortunately) they were preceded by none other than Meghan McCain, the future First Hottie, and a bunch of her friends.
Noteworthy about this is an ancient pact between myself, the Fly, and Friar Dave. When President Bush was elected in 2000, the good Friar and I made a pact to marry the Bush Twins. Being quite mild-mannered, Friar Dave was slated to marry Barbara, who hadn't been caught with alcohol. I was slated to marry Jenna, who was a bit more of a wild child than her sister. We even had a plan: Friar Dave, then focused on media studies, was going to be a White House press aide, while I, your intrepid host, was going to (at that point) be a young military attache to the White House. Here it is, more than seven years later, and Jenna Bush is married, so our pact has reached an impasse. Solution? You guessed it: Meghan McCain. She's a hottie, she's conservative, she's about my age, and I was supporting Senator McCain when every radio talk show host except Medved was claiming, erroneously, that McCain is liberal.
Now, how to pull this off... Hmmm...
Today's Friday, which means that unless I can think of that question at some point, I won't have another blog post up until Monday. Have a safe weekend, come back swinging on Monday, and remember: only you young taxpayers can guarantee that Father Time's Social Security checks keep on comin'.
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