“How can you take care of other people?” Dad asked me. “When you can’t take care of yourself.”
It was 1989. I was living in New York City, on the corner of 12th Street and 3rd Avenue, my floor littered with freeloaders while Dad was paying the rent so I could get through NYU Film School at Tisch School of the Arts.
“They should call it Tisch School of the Farts,” Dad said. “If I had to do it over again, I’d let you go anywhere but there.”
It’s 2013. We’ve had this fight a thousand and three times. He’s not off the mark.
He’s brutal because he’s an Italian from the Bronx who thinks he knows everything. He would know everything. Unfortunately, Dad doesn’t know how to be wrong.
Speaking of people who know everything but don’t know the first thing about knowing when to back-off, how can Anthony Weiner take care of New Yorkers when Anthony Weiner can’t take care of himself?
It’s embarrassing, beyond embarrassing.
When it comes to Hillary Clinton, the love I have in my heart runs deep. When it comes to Hillary Clinton, the love I have in my heart runs deep with admiration. Her advice is coveted by presidents, world leaders and scoundrels.
But this is one of those times when Hillary Clinton’s advice to Huma Abedin, the wife of Anthony Weiner, was misguided, deeply misguided.
Unfortunately, that’s my advice. And I’m no Hillary Clinton: in stature, worldview or stamina for sticking with someone who hurts me, time and time again.
Anthony Weiner is an embarrassment. Elliot Spitzer is a hypocrite. Kermit The Frog is a mensch.
In a video that went viral, Kermit The Frog and Miss Piggy welcomed Prince George to the Royal Family. It’s fitting, since only a puppet can fully appreciate what it means to be born attached to golden strings.
This is how we teach women, around the world, the value of being a Welfare Mom.
I’d call her a jobless woman who’s squeezing out babies so she can take advantage of the system. Kate is a Welfare Queen, an International Welfare Queen, cashing-in on her Welfare Baby, gaming the system, scamming off the Royal Tit.
Too much focus on something a woman can do without any thought. On the other end of the gender spectrum, in the case of Anthony Weiner, it’s the exact same thing, minus the afterbirth.
Gross. Not the discharge. The disfunction. Why? What were you thinking? Why you gotta hate, hater!
Incidentally, I never understood the lyrics to “God Save The Queen.” The Queen doesn’t need saving. She’s doing fine, just fine, more than just fine, splendid.