Amici:
Russel McLean (a.k.a., Laird McLean; Where am I (?) McLean; Staten Island Ferry McLean and the always popular, Sonny Jim McLean is lost AGAIN), has a distinct fondness for the Staten Island Ferry. Monday we were supposed to pick up the Laird near the Principessa Ann Marie’s school on Chambers and Greenwich Streets, but (truth be told) we gave him a single block mis-direction and told him Chambers and West Broadway (one block east of his actual destination—although we did tell him “in front of the McDonald’s and ASSUMED, the Laird being Scottish and all, he wouldn’t have trouble finding a Scottish hamburger joint with big Golden Arches, across the street from a SCHOOL, etc.).Where the Laird wound up, however, was at the Scottish hamburger joint across the street from the STATEN ISLAND FERRY (about 1.2 miles) from the assigned destination.
It took several gulps of the ugly one’s favorite sauce (Chivas) to calm the nerves once we made it back to good old Fords, New Jersey and casa stella.Like all Europeans, Russel blamed the NYPD.
If yous get a chance to see the Laird himself, he’ll be at Murder by the Book in Houston.
We’re hoping the author of Money Shot (above) Christa Faust can straighten him out (and if anybody can, it’ll be Christa) when he’s put on a short spiked leash over on the left coast in LA later in the week.Frustrations to the left of me?
TK says it’s ABOUT FRIGGIN’ TIME the left showed some exhaustion. President Obama has ignored the left from the get-go and now that his back is against the wall, the left needs to show him the two alternatives he faces: a possible extended contract or unemployment ... sort of like what the rest of us have been going through (minus the Martha's Vineyard vacations ...).
—Knucks
