Gollum And The Precious Nomination

Since I had my take on Donald Trump's speech last week, fair's fair and so here's a take on Hillary's acceptance speech this week. 

“I must say, basking in triumph like this is very, very satisfactory. It will only be all the more so in November when we’ve won and I finally get to call myself President Hillary Rodham Clinton. And then rub it in the face of that oompa loompa.

Thank you for your confidence in me. I’ve wanted this for many, many years. Longer than anyone can know. We’re so close to the mountain top. It’s just there, that much closer after all the work we’ve done for years and years and years on end. I’m ready to plant the flag on the top. Which reminds me of the stories about who I was named after. You know, you can go on for years thinking you’re named for Edmund Hillary because of his great triumph in reaching the top of the highest mountain on earth... before you realize you were born a few years too early. Oh well, that’s a detail, and sometimes details are things we overlook.

Where was I? Oh yes, wanting this for many years. The presidency is something I’ve been close to for a long time. And I wanted it. Oh, did I want it. I needed it. I had to have it. It was mine, my own, my precious...

I’m getting carried away with myself again.

My point is when I was growing up I already decided to myself that I wanted to be in the White House. And not just as a First Lady or as a Cabinet member or whatever. As the one person making the big decisions. No, not the court jester. Which reminds me, what’s Carville doing these days?

I wanted to be the President. Not just the President, but the very first woman President.

I wanted to be that trailblazer, showing the way to the future, showing young girls that hey, you too can grow up to be the President of the United States. Eventually. After you’ve married a governor who ends up being President himself. After you’ve done time... in the Senate, people, in the Senate! Not the big house, despite what Chris Christie and the oompa loompa think should happen to me. Honestly, Governor Christie, how do you live with yourself?

Where was I? Right. After time in the Senate. And then Secretary of State.

But before that came my first run at the nomination. Eight years ago.

Of course the party didn’t see things my way eight years ago. Instead they gave it to the President.

They stoles it from us! Nasty filthy little hobbitses, it was ours! Ours! And they stoles it!

Ahem. Sorry about that. I got a little off track.

So everything I did was about getting myself in place for this great day. Well, this great day and the election day, which will be even greater.

Yes, we managed to get through the Sixties. Like Bill, I didn’t inhale. Though it might have been okay in retrospect if I had inhaled. I might have ended up being a bit more mellow and laid back, and well, kind of human in the way I interact with people. Oh well, at least I don’t come across like a complete robot, unlike a certain Republican I won’t mention.

Marco Rubio, I’m looking at you.

So there we were, getting ourselves established, living like the other half lived, or whatever that expression meant. Making our bona fides known and having a daughter we’re so very proud of and all that. And have I mentioned how pleased I am to be a grandmother? It really works well with the focus groups, even if I can’t knit so much as one of those adorable baby socks you see in all the nostalgic magazines about grandmotherhood.

Aren’t babies precious?

My precious, my precious... we wants it!

Oh, there I go again. Bill calls it my Smeagol moment. I kind of drift off into imitations of that character, that’s all. And that’s all they are. Imitations! I am not overly obsessed with the Ring of Sauron and I am not deranged and having conversations with myself all the time. There is no Ring of Sauron, and I’m not obsessed with it.

The Oval Office, on the other hand...

Anyway, I know what the polls say. That I’m one of the most unfavourable candidates in American history. Rest assured, though, that the oompa loompa is even more unlikable than I am. So to the voters out there who haven’t decided, ask yourself this: do you want someone who brings experience and wisdom and the occasional streak of being a bit terribly unlikable in the Oval Office? Do you want someone who’s from time to time been investigated by the FBI like I have? Do you want someone whose party has perpetually asked, are we sure it has to be her?

Or do you want a tiny handed oompa loompa with zero political experience, business disasters, and no social skills?

America, let’s move forward together. We’ve done it before. I’ve done it before, what with forgiving my husband every time he’s gone astray. Which reminds me, to the White House interns of the female persuasion, you won’t have to worry. I’m having Bill fitting with an electro-shock collar that gives him a jolt any time he gets turned on.

Oh, sure, Bill, laugh now, but you won’t be laughing the first time you get shocked.

My fellow Americans, I look forward to serving as your President. I look forward to leading this country forward past all the division and the rancor. I really look forward to sitting in the Oval Office making all the big decisions.

Because it’s mine. Mine! My own! My precious! We needs it! We wants it! It’s ours! Nasty Bernies Sanderses standing in our way! It’s ours!

Ahem... there I go again. Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.

Thank you for your support. To those members of the party who wanted Bernie up here, I will do everything I can to gain your trust, even if I have to name the cranky old guy to my cabinet. To the oompa loompa, I say this: Donald, everyone knows it’s a combover.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I see that Bill’s sniffing around the barely legal daughter of the governor.”

The Extra Short Orange Running Mate

Washed Up Reality Television Star Expresses Ambitions While Being Oblivious To Reality

New York (AP) With the Democratic National Convention getting started this week, and Hillary Clinton often going on and on about what she calls “her precious”, all eyes are on Philadelphia, where the party will be giving the former Secretary of State what she has always wanted- the nomination for the presidency and her ticket to power. There has been much speculation as to who Clinton would be designating as her Vice President. Some more cynical observers have noted that the Vice President would be far more important than usual given the inevitable impeachment of President Clinton (the Second).

Numerous Democrats have been jockeying for the position, while party operatives have been trying to push other names. Elizabeth Warren has been set aside, given concerns by the candidate that she would be constantly upstaged by “someone more likable than me.” Bernie Sanders, who gave Hillary a run for her money throughout the campaign before finally throwing in the towel, has been set aside as a possible contender, given the fact that the two dislike each other. Ultimately the task- and perhaps the future presidency- was given to Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia.

It wasn’t just Democrats trying to get the job. Last week, in the midst of the Republican convention, members of the press were summoned to a press conference in New York by an enigmatic invitation alluding to the Democratic Vice Presidency. Gathered together in a hall at the Javits Center, reporters speculated as to who might be trying to make their own bid at the proverbial second chair. Might Joe Biden be making a second go at the job? Or even odder, did Bill Clinton himself want the job? 

Finally a spokesperson came out on stage, calling for the attention of the assembled media.  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” the woman said as she stepped up to the podium. “Without further ado, well, here she is. She really needs no introduction, because everyone knows her and loves her.”

The spokesperson stepped aside. Music started to blare- some sort of house music or hip hop; this reporter really can’t tell the difference. And out onto the stage walked a short woman with big hair and orange tanned skin. Reporters gasped, rolled their eyes, and found themselves wondering how a washed up reality show star from Jersey Shore could have managed to assemble them all together under false pretenses.

She was Nicole Polizzi, otherwise known to the world as Snooki.

Waving to the crowd, totally oblivious to the eye rolling, sighs of dismay, and shaking of heads, Snooki strode up to the podium, only to find that she couldn’t see over the top. “Damn it!” she blurted out, reaching up and managing to grab the mike. “Who the **** didn’t put a step stool here like I asked?”

Snooki came out from behind the podium, glared at her spokesperson, who stood at least a foot taller than her, and then faced the media, pasting on her vacant grin with the dimwitted expression in her eyes. “Hey there!” she called out, waving again. “Thanks for coming!”

“Are you just wasting our time?” one reporter inquired of her.

Snooki looked confused. “Why do people keep asking me that?”

“Because it’s a pretty reasonable assumption,” this reporter said.

“Look, no, no ****ing way,” she assured the reporters. “Am I the sort of person who’d waste your time? No, of course not. I mean, what am I, a Kardashian?” This reporter rolled his eyes, wondering what would be more tedious and annoying, sitting through this or sitting through a drunken ramble by one of the Kardashians. “By the way, are we broadcasting live?”

“No, we’re not,” one of the television reporters replied for all of her colleagues, looking at her watch, no doubt wondering, as this reporter was, how long she might have to put up with this sort of nonsense from a washed up MTV star.

“Well you’ll wish you were,” Snooki promised. “Because I’m here to announce my candidacy for the Vice President of the United States, on the Democratic ticket with my BFF Hillary.”

Reporters stifled laughter. One asked, “BFF? Have you ever actually met her?”

Snooki shrugged. “No, but what the **** difference does that make anyway?”

This reporter spoke up. “First of all, under the rules, a Presidential candidate and their team select a Vice Presidential candidate. A person doesn’t just come out of nowhere and say they’re going to name drop themselves as a Vice Presidential candidate. Second, you’re not known for politics. You’re known for a multitude of bad reality shows on a network that used to run music videos, for getting drunk and in trouble, and, to put it mildly, for being an idiot.”

“Hey, guido, don’t you call me names,” Snooki replied.

“Guido?” this reporter challenged the idiot.

“That’s what I call everybody. Guido, wop, douchebag, whatever slang term comes to mind,” Snooki explained. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I can bring the young beach going Jersey vote to Hillary for the big win in November. All she has to do is say pretty please, Snooki, and promise to let me be president one day out of every week. ‘Cause I’d like to send the Navy SEALS to bust up the Situation’s ass.” She was grinning with maniacal glee, in a way that suggested she wasn’t quite playing with a full deck.

“You can’t be serious,” another reporter objected.

“Of course I am,” Snooki declared. “And you know what else I can do as Vice President. Say Hillary needs Bill outta her hair? I can keep the First Dude distracted. Pretty much the same way Monica kept him distracted. I really am the perfect choice for the job. I’ve got attitude, street smarts, a great rep with all the hip people, and I’ve got orange skin. I can be the anti-Trump. Anyway, that’s my announcement. Hillary, have your people call my people, and we’ll do lunch!”

She left the stage, and reporters found themselves snickering, sighing, shaking their heads, and wondering if they’d woken up in some pocket universe where reality had gone haywire. Of course, with the other party fielding a candidate who’d spent his own years in reality television, the world had already gone haywire long before now.

The last word goes to an unnamed member of the Clinton campaign, a distinguished older fellow using the codename El Cigaro. He laughed off the offer by Snooki. “You know, as much as I’d enjoy being distracted... I mean, as much as Bill would enjoy being distracted by Snooki in that fashion, her bein’ the Vice Presidential candidate? It just isn’t gonna happen. Hillary, or the ol’ ball and chain as I like to call her, shook her head, said something like, Hell no, and then started muttering, my precious, my precious, it’s mine, they stoles it froms us. You know, between you and me and Monica, she might be gettin’ a little bit obsessive about the whole thing. Don’t tell her I said that, okay? She’s got me by the short hairs.”

Can We Vote For None Of The Above?

Candidates Persist In Endless Election Campaign; Voters Hedge Bets

Washington (AP) Five candidates remain between the two parties vying for the presidency of the United States. On the Democrat side, Bernie Sanders continues to interfere in Hillary Clinton’s crusade to take what she believes belongs to her. On the Republican side, developer blowhard Donald Trump persists in alienating endless groups of people while attracting dimwits, a problem copied by his chief rival, Ted Cruz, and Governor John Kasich remains a dark horse contender, at least until the convention.

The Republican nominees, at one point numbering in the dozens, has been whittled down increasingly in recent weeks. Marco Rubio recently stepped aside after losing in his home state. Hulk Hogan, the controversial ex-wrestler who launched an unlikely bid, finally withdrew, but promised that if asked, “I’ll bust up Trump again, brother!” This of course was a reference to the fact that Hogan and his campaign manager, Ric Flair, beat up the developer months ago and put him in a body cast.

It is an attack that Trump has not forgotten. Aside from vowing blood vengeance against the wrestler, he’s spent time savaging every single opponent in the most vulgar ways, even while confined to a body cast. He has attacked members of the media with regularity. He has launched dimwitted rants against multiple minorities. And he has brought out the absolute worst in his supporters, even gaining the support of the Ku Klux Klan and its former leader David Duke along the way. All the while, Trump has responded viciously to any even minor criticism or insult, proving that he has the thinnest skin of any public figure alive today.

Last week, Trump put his foot in his overly sized mouth yet again after Hogan’s withdrawal, mysteriously linking the wrestler to someone who’s not a waste of space. “Loser!” he spewed to a crowd of his supporters. “The man’s a yuuuuuuuuuuuuge loser! Terrible! Just disgusting. Can’t even finish what he started, quits when he’s not even near to being ahead, just a loser! Not a winner, not like Donald Trump. Hogan’s a washed up nobody. I mean, he’s as much of a disgusting loser as that ****ing Pope guy, let me tell you, okay? Peace on earth and do good to your fellow ****ing man? You know who says that? Losers!”

Pope Francis simply shrugged when asked about Trump’s venom, and remarked, “There are some people in this world who hide their bitter miserable nature beneath a facade of braggadocio and ego. It has been my experience that there is little point in reaching them. I simply pray that the American people vote with wisdom instead of impulsiveness. Positivity instead of negativity. And if in doubt, ask yourself: do I really want a mouthy thin skinned arrogant bastard like Donald Trump anywhere near a nuclear arsenal?”

Ted Cruz has had his own share of gaffes throughout the campaign. He’s desperately trying to position himself as the only viable alternative to Trump in the party, particularly with so many other candidates fallen away. And yet he’s routinely despised within the Republican Party, and has been for years. “I know not everyone approves,” Cruz said during a stop in Albany, New York. “But who am I to deny what God has told me? The Almighty wants me to be President of the United States and to make society back to what it should be, not to what it has become. So, if you don’t vote for me, you’ll be making God mad at you.”

Renowned therapist Dr. Alexandra Patterson, a psychologist with specialities in megalomania among public figures, has been regularly rolling her eyes when consulted by reporters throughout the campaign. “I know this isn’t a clinical diagnosis, and usually I wouldn’t diagnose anyone without seeing them, but if you ask me, Trump and Cruz are both batshit crazy.”

When the blowhard heard those remarks, Trump was furious. “Loser! Loser! Disgusting! What kinda therapist is she anyway? What are her credentials? She’s just one of those loser elites who hate me and my dumbass inbred supporters.” He paused, as if hearing his own words. “Wait a minute, don’t you ****ers quote that last sentence, you hear me?”

John Kasich has been busy campaigning in New York State lately, working to shore up support before the convention, even if he is well behind Trump and Cruz. Republican party officials, desperately trying to find a way to deny Trump the nomination, might be looking at the governor as the lesser of three evils in a brokered convention. The governor, whose most recent gaffe happens to be minor- eating pizza in the wrong way- seemed optimistic in remarks to reporters out on the campaign trail. “I can tell you this- unlike Mr. Cruz or Mr. Trump, you would never see me launch a nuclear strike on Kansas just because someone in Kansas City criticized me. Maybe North Korea. That’s a joke, by the way.”

Hillary Clinton, the former senator and Secretary of State, long since presumed the front runner of the Democrats, has been busy fending off attacks on her credibility, questions about links to Wall Street donors, queries about where her husband happens to be, and suggestions that she’s behaving far too much like Gollum in her zest for the Oval Office. “It’s mine!” she screeched in a raspy voice on stage late one evening last week. “My own! My precious! I wants it! I must haves it! And no nasty Hobbits or Sanders can keep us from it!”

A campaign spokesperson, speaking strictly on anonymous terms, informed reporters that the candidate had a very long day and was tired. “In fact, it’s been a very long campaign,” she told reporters. “And a difficult one. Secretary Clinton is quite stressed out, so believe me... you don’t want to talk to her right now. She might rip your head off. Literally as well as figuratively.”

Senator Sanders continues to hit the campaign trail, seemingly tireless, meeting crowds, engaging the public, campaigning largely with a positive spin on his ideas- a change from the endless toxic nature of many of the other campaigns.  He refuses to descend into the proverbial muck of other candidates. Party officials appear oblivious, seeming to prefer Secretary Clinton as their eventual winner. “We’ll see what we see,” Sanders told reporters. “I think it’s more important to connect with people right now than to dwell on what the party’s thinking.”

Many voters remain undecided. With Cruz and Trump in front of the Republican list, and Hillary demanding a coronation among the Democrats, there is a sense of malaise and discontent among voters, perhaps looking at other parties. A suggestion has been made for another candidate- though she isn’t even human, and has already been on the record, thanks to cat to human translation software, as refusing to run. “No,” she insisted. “I don’t care.”

Ashley Madison Versus Ashley Madison

Hacking Scandal Continues; Unlikely Affected Individuals Speak Out

New York (AP) The Ashley Madison data hacking dilemma continues to play out throughout the world after the Canadian based marital cheating website was hacked and personal information stolen by a group calling itself The Impact Team. Cheating spouses- and their sexual kinks- are being exposed. Divorce attorneys are crying with joy at the blessing that has befallen them. In offices and workplaces across the world, guilty parties are hoping their names haven’t been exposed. Ethics specialists are debating the notions of invasion of privacy and the consequences of the theft- in terms of the marriages and the notion of being branded and shamed.

“We’re one step away from The Scarlet Letter,” sociologist Alexandra DiGianna told reporters, evoking the Nathaniel Hawthorne novel. “People are either being shamed or living in fear that their incredibly bad mistake having a one night stand is about to be exposed, and all thanks to a shadowy hacker group who refuse to identify themselves and act in the role of moral inquisitor. This hacker group doesn’t care about the potential consequences- suicide, violence, or just the emotional damage this can do; they’re acting as judge and jury and moral executioner. On the other hand, hey, cheating cheaters kind of deserve having their lives thrown into upheaval, don’t you think?”

The former American president Bill Clinton seems amused by it all. “All I know is I wish this company had been around twenty years ago. I had to do my own searching and looking for whatever hot young babe I wanted to score with tonight. Would’ve made things a lot easier. Wait, don’t quote me... Hillary will kill me if she ever catches me again... I told you don’t quote me!”

A spokeswoman for Avid Life Media, the parent company of Ashley Madison, was dismissive over the scandal. “Look, it’s very simple,” Melody LeClaire told reporters with a contemptuous tone. “We give our clients a chance to get away from their unhappy lives and screw around behind the backs of their spouses. Is that so wrong? No, of course not, what’s wrong is a group of hackers thinking they can mess around with our client list and throw us all into upheaval. Wait, are you people quoting me?”

While all this plays out, another group of people are speaking out about the website and its impact on their lives. They are, in fact, people all bearing the name Ashley Madison. Most of them are, of course, women, but there are male Ashleys. All of them have, for years, been annoyed by the site’s existence, and the fact that it degrades their own names. They have been organizing as of late into a group.

“It’s very simple,” Ashley Madison of New York told reporters at a gathering of Ashley Madisons in New York City. “It’s not an easy thing to go through life with the name Ashley Madison to begin with. To be frank, it’s an adult film star sort of name already.” She paused to let that sink in. “And really, to have a website devoted to letting unhappily married people find other unhappily married people to cheat with, and then have that site hijack your name, it makes it all the more insulting. We want Ashley Madison to stop using our name. Don't make us call in the lawyers.”

Ashley Madison of Montreal agreed. “I’ve been heckled and teased relentlessly,” she explained. “My friends and family treat this like a punchline and a joke, and to be perfectly honest with you, I’m thinking I need new friends and family. Because it’s not funny.”

One of the few males in the group, Ashley Madison of Charlotte, North Carolina, agrees. “It really isn’t a joke, and yet we’re left to bear the brunt of ridicule just because of our names. It’s only getting worse the longer this thing goes on. And for a guy, let me tell you, already having the name Ashley is bad enough.” Asked by reporters where the name comes from, Mr Madison admitted, “My parents were big Gone With The Wind fans. So my full name is Ashley Wilkes Madison. Imagine going through life named after a sad sack character stuck in a story featuring Scarlett O’Hara.”

“I’m a primary school teacher,” Ashley Madison of St. Paul, Minnesota told reporters. She sounded irritated. “For years, I’ve had to explain to parents that no, I’m not that Ashley Madison, that I have no account with them, and that I would never want one. And yet with this nonsense going on, I’ve got stuck up prudish parents demanding I be fired from my job just because of my name. What is this? When did this society drift into The Scarlet Letter?”

Strangely, the only big exposure thus far in the Ashley Madison affair has been the inexplicably famous Josh Duggar- former reality show star, sanctimonious self righteous hypocrite, and occasional molester of female relatives. The ugly twit (honestly, who would want to willingly shag Josh Duggar? He looks like he was hit by an ugly stick forty thousand times) from a dysfunctional family who had political aspirations before his particular habits were exposed to the press has his name among the list of users of Ashley Madison. The Duggar family, still desperately trying to get back into reality television with their small army of fundamentalist whackjob clan members, issued a brief statement on their facebook page. “We are shocked that anyone dares to criticize our righteous and holy family, that anyone dares delve into our private lives. Josh has made some mistakes, but the important thing is that’s in the past and he’s been forgiven and whatever damage has been done doesn’t matter anymore, because like we said, that’s in the past. By the way, we’re going to put a Duggar in the White House in 2024! Definitely a male Duggar, because the only thing girls are good for are breeding.”

Hollywood has gotten into the act. Director Penny Marshall is on board to direct When Ashley Met Ashley, a new romantic comedy about the hacking scandal reuniting the stars of The Hunger Games, Jennifer Lawrence and Liam Hemsworth. “It’s a great idea,” Lawrence told reporters. “Two misfits brought together by the fact that they have the same name as a cheaters website. We’re going to have a lot of fun. And I get to work with Liam again, which is good. Usually I’m cast alongside Bradley Cooper, and let’s face it, that guy’s a dirtbag.”

Reached for comment, Cooper, who’s currently filming The Hangover Part Four: Sleazier, Raunchier, and Uncut, sounded irritated. “She said what?”

The Ashley Madison matter has had at least one happy ending (not that kind of happy ending, get your minds out of the gutter). Ashley Madison, a doctor in Boston, came into contact with Ashley Madison, professor of history at Harvard. The two women hit it off, and Professor Madison proposed marriage to Doctor Madison. The two are getting married next spring, and spoke with reporters at the gathering of Ashley Madisons. “We’re very happy,” Doctor Madison said.

“It might sound very odd,” Professor Madison admitted. “Falling in love with someone and then marrying them, when both of you have the same name. And we’re probably going to have to figure out the mail thing- I mean, a letter could be meant for her, for instance, when I might be thinking of opening it.”

Doctor Madison shrugged. “We’ll sort that out. It’s strange, that our mutual dislike of having our names dragged through the mud by this sleazy excuse for a website led us to meet each other... who knows if we’d met otherwise?”

North of the border, and out west, reporters sought out a man who’s often been confused for someone else for his comment. Legendary Mountie Lars Ulrich was found at his detachment, seeming to be as cranky as ever when he noticed the arrival of a horde of reporters and met them outside. “If any of you ask me one damned thing about Metallica, I’ll rip you in half,” he warned in a low, angry voice.

It was quickly established that the horde of reporters were, in fact, real reporters who fully understood that the Mountie was an entirely different Lars Ulrich than the half deaf and slightly demented Metallica drummer. The Ashley Madison matter was brought up, and the inspector was asked about his perspective in going through life with a name that was constantly mistaken for someone else. The inspector pondered that a moment, and then said, “As irritating as it is to be mistaken for a demented drummer who doesn’t look like me, at least it’s not as annoying as this would be.”

There was a stir among the crowd, and another reporter arrived with a cameraman. “Lars! Lars! Skip Collins, Entertainment Tonight!” Inspector Ulrich looked irritated. The real reporters backed up, both for their own safety, but also to give the Inspector plenty of room to strike. “The question everyone wants to know... will Metallica be involved in the soundtrack for When Ashley Met Ashley?”

The Inspector threw his first punch, sending Collins flying. Five minutes later he was done, his annoyance satisfied. Collins is expected to be in a body cast for the next six months in hospital, no doubt having nightmares about an angry man in red serge.

Guest Blog: Norma Beishir ~ Please Spay Or Neuter Your Politicians

Today I'm handing the reins in my blog over to my partner in crime, Norma Beishir, who has what I think we all agree is a very reasonable idea. Well, maybe not if your name is John Edwards. Take it away, Norma!

Think about it. When you have a dog or cat who's spreading a little too much of himself around the neighborhood, what do you do? You take him to the vet and get him fixed. He stops roaming, stays at home. Now, if it works so well for the family pet, would it not keep our elected officials in line as well?

Since the men are the ones always in trouble, maybe we'd better focus on neutering. For now.

Italy's Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi is the poster boy for bad behavior these days. He's been charged with paying an underage prostitute $60,000. for sex. He claims he gave her the money to open a spa. Not since Caligula has the Roman Empire experienced such decadence! This man should definitely get the ol' snip-snip....

In Canada, there's a Harper cabinet minister named Maxine Bernier. He left sensitive documentation at an ex-girlfriends' place. She was notable for turning up at a cabinet function in a very low cut dress.  

There's a current scandal going on involving a former aide to Prime Minister Harper, a man in his sixties named Bruce Carson, who's engaged to a former call girl in her twenties. They're both being looked at for some shady dealing involving lobbying and influence peddling.

Lock up the Viagra. That should keep him out of trouble.

The US, of course, is notorious for politicians who have a problem keeping it in their pants. Thomas Jefferson fathered children with slave Sally Hemings. The tabloids gave us "proof" of John Kennedy's roving eye years after his assassination. Bill Clinton's Oval Office antics are well-known, making him a favorite target of late-night comics. 

And then there's the notoriously sleazy John Edwards, who was out making a baby with trampy Rielle Hunter while his wife Elizabeth was dying of cancer.

What really ticks me off is that I almost voted for him. He came off as being so decent, so honest. Hmmmm...now that his political career is dead, maybe he should try his hand at acting.

I'm thinking porn star. Aren't there already some videos out there...somewhere?

Years ago, CBS aired a soap called Capitol. A soap opera set in Washington DC, featuring a Joe Kennedy-like patriarch and the children he manipulated. Washington and soap operas--now that seems like a perfect fit, yet the soap failed and was cancelled after a short run. Why? The storylines were pretty tame compared to the real Beltway affairs. The show's big scandal was the young congressman Trey Clegg, in love with a prostitute who had also bedded his dear old dad.

Maybe if the writers had taken their plots from the headlines....