The Other McCain

"One should either write ruthlessly what one believes to be the truth, or else shut up." — Arthur Koestler

Nap-Time News

Posted on | July 16, 2011 | 7 Comments

OK, this afternoon I had a 45-minute phone interview with Andrew Breitbart, for a long article I’m writing for an upcoming print edition of The American Spectator. This means it’s time to . . . procrastinate.

And I just ate a foot-long turkey sub sandwich for lunch and now the tryptophan is kicking in, so I’m thinking my procrastination will take the form of a nap.

Fortunately for you, Reaganite Republican has an excellent headline round-up that ought to keep you amused while I’m snoring on the sofa.

Don’t blame me. Blame that turkey sandwich. I’m a victim.

UPDATE: My nap got interrupted because one of my 18-year-old twin sons has bought a five-month old “puppy.” I put that word in quotes, because it’s a boxer, an ugly gigantic bulldog-looking thing and, although the people who sold my son the dog swore it was housebroken, it keeps peeing in my office.

So there was a lot of yelling between my sons over who was going to clean up the mess, and it woke me up. Then I decided to rattle off a few paragraphs of this American Spectator profile of Breitbart while I was awake, and next thing I knew I was 800 words into what will surely be a 3,000-word story before it’s finished.

When I got to what seemed like a good stopping place, I sent a Tweet to Breitbart to update him on the progress — I’ll need to call him back tomorrow or Monday to double-check some facts — and then guess who pops up asking questions? Sissy Willis:

Will that forcoming Breitbart article be print ONLY? I don’t DO print.

See what I put up with, dear readers? Do you see why I sometimes get depressed? A dog pisses on my floor and then my “friend” Sissy Willis tells me she can’t be bothered to pay $5.95 for a copy of The American Spectator even when she knows in advance it’s going to include my brilliant profile of Andrew Breitbart.

It’s at moments like this that I’m tempted to Mapquest directions to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, get in my car and go jump off. But summoning forth my instinct for survival, I instead went to my Amazon Associates account and found that you can get a full year’s subscription to The American Spectator for just $49 — and, if you want, you can get a year’s subscription to both the Spectator and the Weekly Standard for a mere $109. Either way, I get a 4% commission via Amazon Associates, which will help compensate me for my interrupted nap, if not for the dog pissing in my office. So now I’m going back to sleep, depressed by the humiliation of realizing that I’ve been reduced to hustling magazine subscriptions to make a few extra bucks.

Woodward and Bernstein never had to do this, you know.

Oh, the shame of it all . . .


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