We can finally stop talking about the first lady's penchant for showing off her toned arms and the national conversation can turn to something substantive: her husband's unflattering, baggy blue jeans.
Fashion bloggers are throwing spitballs at the high-waisted "mom jeans" President Barack Obama wore when he threw out the first pitch at baseball's All-Star Game this week.
...
Cronkite, Halberstam, and Murrow vomit ...
I'm waiting for one, just one, publication to write the sentence:
"Insurance companies are paying off members of Congress to oppose health care reform."
Because that's what's actually happening underneath all the political posturing; the kabuki put on for our benefit. You'd think, instead of wasting untold column inches, let alone the trees required, writing about a pair of pants on a middle-aged dad, they'd concentrate more on things that concern their readers, like whether or not they can sleep just a little bit easier knowing an illness won't wipe out what little they can squirrel away, and why our elected representatives oppose it so vehemently.
I tell ya what, 'journalists'. Why don't you try to figure out what's in Barry's pants? That might be a bit more interesting. The American people are being screwed nine ways from Sunday, by everybody (it's a target-rich environment) but heaven forbid our President wears the wrong number Levis. Idiots.
An aside: Were I the President, and I read this about myself, I'd walk around for a week in the white boxer shorts with red hearts that Mrs. F bought me. Care less where - in the Rose Garden, the Oval Office, with a suit jacket and tie at public functions too (with wingtips and white socks as well). That'd give 'em something to talk about.
Which made me think of something related for your Wednesday morning musical interlude:
No comments:
Post a Comment