Anyway, Newt proudly announced to me that I and a few million others on his purchased e-mail list were in that inner sanctum, that tight coterie of those closest to his heart:
..got the knock-out babe trophy wife up there and all that, don't he? (Remember Mrs McCain?) Sure looks like a winner; the type of guy we want to flush The Pantload in 2012, right?
Well, pols do not tickle the electrons of your in box unless there's a reason to do so and here's the kicker:
I don't know if you can read that, but basically old Newt and his ravishing bride want me to advance them some folding green against the chance that he might throw his hat in the ring.
Say what?
Upon hearing this, my neighbor, Tim the Brit, told me this morning about Spike Milligan (one of the Goons) announcing to the audience at one of his shows that he would like to read some of Byron's poetry..
..then after the smattering of applause died away, he continued, "..but then again, I shan't. After all he's never read any of mine at his shows."
See me next January, Newt.
