Where's the Bleat?

No Thursday Bleat. No Friday Bleat. Where's the Bleat?

The Bleat is in New York:

That's right! LIVE from New York!

Inasmuch as I’m not dead when I’m writing it. This of course is not being posted on the days written, because I don’t feel like telling everyone that I’ve left the house for a while. Unlike Dave Barry, who is content to tell everyone he's on a book tour because no one knows where he lives, and because he has a gator-invested moat and a security staff and a panic room with pnuematic access to a subterranean monorail, I don't broadcast my absences from Jaspewood. This alsso means I will have nothing to say about current events this week - like this Limbaugh thing which is breaking; my gut says guilty. I am also sure that upon hearing the news, Al Franken spronged sufficient wood to knock the table over. In terms of his credibility with his followers, I think Rush just had his Aimee Semple McPherson moment. The faithful will be divided. Short term? His 4Q ratings book is going to rock.

Don't touch that dial!

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 11:57 PM

Comments

Name: (required)

Email: (required)

URL:

Comments:

Processing 0.0, elapsed 0.0058 seconds.
16 queries taking 0.0048 seconds, 7 records returned.
Page size 3 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.