You know what day it is, right? Howsabout you trot the little guy out and let him do his thing —
Well, I would if I could. But the truth is, he took off about three days ago with the twenty bucks I gave him for his old Gibson acoustic and a ratty rucksack stuffed with cheese sandwiches and port wine. Heading off to find himself a Tea Party protest, he told me.
— Not that he cares much about smaller government, mind you. Just that he’s “always wanted to bang a pair of hick sisters” and “maybe even watch the crazy Jesus people hang somebody.”*
Which, hey. I warned him about watching MSNBC all day, Norah O’Donnell or no Norah O’Donnell…