InstaPunk Returns

The Boss White Dude Bradley Whitford When I first heard the name “White Dudes for Harris” I thought immediately of Bradley Whitford. It was the role of his lifetime. Playing White House power behind the scenes Josh Lyman, who bullied his secretary to make things happen for the righteous presidency of Jeb “Martin Sheen” Josiah Bartlet, a little guy with MS who was in every way a precursor of Obama but for being physically small and weak and gloriously intelligent like no one else who could talk Christian while being the smartest meanest man in the room.  Bradley Whitford himself went to Wesleyan University, one of the ‘Little Three,’ who always knew they were smarter than Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. Are we cool enough yet or what? I always despised the smug self-hagiography of the West Wing. The longest running political propaganda as soap opera entertainment in the history of American television. Bradley got himself Emmies and Golden Globes pushing his own inane political agendas.  T

  My wife? Long walk. I’m not a nice guy. Neither is my wife. Neither is Trump. We are all assholes. But we’re the right kind of assholes. My marriage is a kind of duel. I’m a drunk genius. My wife is a control freak, like Melanie and Linda before her.  I could actually do this. Think about it, My wife loves me. She also hates me. Feel lucky you’re not involved in that kind of marriage. I’ve never had any other kind. All about control. What women want, need, must absolutely have. Except I cannot be controlled. Because I’m a fucking genius, Drives them nuts. See, I love strong women. Why I do get involved with the smart, ambitious, impossible ones. You can ask yourself, Why am I in yet another situation where she has to own me, beat away at me, make me pay for everything she doesn’t like about me? Because. That’s what makes it fun. It gets boring that I never lose arguments with lawyers. Women, on the other hand, you can’t ever win arguments with them. It keeps life interesting. I’ve wr

Another has-been life ruined beyond repair. Trump Curse writ large. Rosie O’Donnell still can’t get over the fact that Trump won the Republican nomination in 2016 by blowing off Megyn Kelly’s gotcha question about his mean tweets to women, using her as the completely understandable punchline.   Millions of men, and even some women, said to themselves, “I would do that too.” She’s a sad case. But this latest outburst got me to thinking. Maybe I’ve been unfair to The Donald myself over the years. With my wife and others, I’ve taken the position that I admire Trump as a President and would-be savior of the Republic. I’ve also said I wouldn’t have him in my house for dinner. Or, less pompously, that I have never had any desire to meet him in person. I have fought strenuously for his political life and fortunes. No one can deny that. But I also fought for George W and Mitt Romney when they were running. Didn’t want to meet them either. They were simply the best alternative to the pure

  Yes, it really is possible to have a kind of 6-pack when you’re wasting away. Weighed myself today. 5’ 9”, 128 lbs. Let’s think about what this means. Not what you imagine. My whole life is contracting, and I tend to think of it in terms of focus not loss. I have always been an Alpha.*  Now I am structurally a Gamma.* Physically crippled to the point where I have to take a hundred-year old cane to my cigarette and vodka runs in Delaware. Have it down pretty well. I can do the cigarette outlet on my own two feet. At the liquor store I park the Jeep almost all the way to the next strip mall so I can use the cane to mount nothing tougher than a slope. Oh gee. Vodka?! Hell yeah. You don’t want to hear this? You wouldn’t without the vodka. Why it’s still a part of the regimen. Being Anonymous was never a part of my destiny. Sorry, Bill. Things you would never know. Like, I drank in all kinds of bars, white and black, for 40 years and never got into a fight. I once stopped a cabbie in fron