While at a hotel in Philadelphia several weeks ago, I was surprised by Hillary Clinton. She was not the robot I’d come to expect.. As I rode the elevator next to her, I couldn’t help but glance her way. Though she seemed weak from her apparent pneumonia and her face was more weathered than I’d remembered, there was a twinkle in her eyes as she said hello to me.

Floor after floor, her perfume wafting towards me, I felt as if she was trying to say something to me, a die-hard Republican. She coughed flirtatiously several times. Just as the elevator stopped on my floor, I thought I saw her checking me out as I held my Wall Street Journal near my loins. Something had caught her eye, and I figured it was my $4000 suit, tailored to fit me perfectly...everywhere. And then, just as we were about to part forever, she said it: “I wish I could convince people I really want to help them.”

She didn’t tell me my suit would look good on the floor next to her bed or that I reminded her of a movie star like oh-so-many women do. Instead, she was responding to an op-ed in my newspaper. And her words touched me inappropriately. She is a Clinton who coined the failed vast right wing conspiracy; now part of the vast left wing conspiracy. Could she really care about people? Even if it was a ruse, could she really care about what I think in order to pretend just for me? I wanted her to stop. I could not bring myself to say no, but she could tell I was uncomfortable. “Make sure you vote,” she said, knowing full-well that she had grabbed me just a bit too roughly. Me, retracing each line on her face as I exited to the hallway, feeling dirty for hearing her and believing her.

Could this woman who I have compared to the devil in multiple Tweets really care about me? Or was I just a prop, used to fulfill some kind of sick fantasy? I know she won’t return my calls, so I don’t bother, but I also will never be the same again. No amount of time will be able to heal my wounds. However, my new BMW Alpina B7 will help me to move on.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007 5643
American Dreaming With Dan Brubus Keep driving your SUVs, people, because we’re about make history! I knew my Lord and savior Jesus Christ was on my side when I decided against going to Miami to take a job with a competitor. “Yeah, the weather sucks here,” I reasoned, “and the girls aren’t nearly as hot, but I can afford a Brookfield mansion for less than a million bucks, and still have enough left over to stock my garage.” Anyhow, the great weather is about to come to me, so I’ll be retiring at about 55 with more money in the bank than you’ll make in a lifetime, and beautiful weather, as well. What do we have to thank for all this? Global warming, of course.
Monday, February 07, 2011 13804
Green Bay Packer coach Mike McCarthy has been known to script many of the plays early in games, but for the Super Bowl he was apparently trying out a new method of drawing up play ideas. Either that, or he forgot to put the cap back on his red marker, which is a total rookie Super Bowl coach move. Who cares, anyhow, because the Packers are the Superbowl Champs, and someone washed it off for him by the second half.

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