<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Sunday, October 03, 2004

WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT ... 

Spitbull shows up. How could we resist? It offered much in the way of assorted alcoholic beverages plus free Wi-fi. No, not the debate party: Keegan's Irish Pub.

Just as we suspected: we beheld a motley crew from the Northern Alliance at a corner table morosely nursing beers. Spent from a hard afternoon's work fisking Nick Coleman (sounds vaguely pornographic, doesn't it?) and giving away Jaguars. They perked up the minute they saw us. That's Spitbull. We're a portable party (also, a portable potty).

Hilarity ensued.

Mitch psycho-analyzed the appeal of lady-killing felons. Frater Saint Paul revealed how he booed Jay Benanav at a public meeting while wearing a clever disguise: a Wellstone t-shirt. Frater Elder regaled us with stories from Frater Atomizer's past and we all agreed his liver should be donated to science. The fetching Mrs. Elder admitted that she was getting awfully tired of all this blog blather. And she gets to hear it all again at tonight's Patriot Forum with Hugh Hewitt and Jason Lewis.

But she won't be hearing it from us.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment