Tiger v. Phippy. Las Vegas. Snorting, sniffing, heavy breathing caddy disgusting. Nobody told them to turn off his mike? That would have been the most smack the talk got. Neither Woods nor Mickelson had the personality ever or the talent anymore to make the post-Thanksgiving pay-per-view event slightly compelling. Bad golf. Loud snot. Boring coverage. All for $19.95. Unless you got it for free on the Bleacher Report website. Please let it be over soon!
Cory Booker claimed I Am Spartacus during the Kavanaugh confirmation hearing. More like Dorkacus. At least pronounce the name of the ranking member of the Judiciary Committee who has been in public life for over five decades. Dianne Feinstein. Not Fein-steen. Pathetic.
Nicolle Wallace & Steve Schmidt on MSNBC today rationalizing hiding Sarah Palin’s obvious mental health issues when she was John McCain’s running mate. The excuse not to out McCain’s politically expedient yet negligent pick? That he’d lose the election after the financial crisis of 2008. So much wrong about that by all concerned.
Oh and Tiger shot a 62 at the BMW. So did Rory. Woo hoo.
Sizzling in the City. Weeks of air conditioned whirring leads to wondering.
How can Catholics continue to go to church? Where are you Francesco? Don’t say you’ll hold those accused or covered it up accountable. Boston’s Cardinal Law just died in the Vatican’s lap of luxury. A generational epidemic with no cure-ate in sight.
Why would Broadway talent & Melania impersonator Laura Benanti take part in the Luann de Lesseps Real Housewives Countess Cabaret Show? Sad.
Why do professional women on television continue to dress like they are at the beach or going to a hoochi afterhours club? If men wore muscle shirts would you take them seriously?
Will Tiger ever win another major? Still mourning his runner-up finish at the PGA a week ago. Broken record alert! He needs new blood on the bag. Ditch Joey. And. The driver.
Why is Trump having a Hamptons fundraiser in the middle of the day on a summer Friday? Because he is Trump the ultimate traffic troll. And. For a hot dog.
British Open at Carnoustie in Scotland. Down the road from Trump’s Turnberry. He should have stayed there and never gone to Helsinki. But. Back to golf. Nick Faldo’s former winning caddie Fanny Sunnesson will be on Adam Scott’s bag. That’s a pair to watch. Nick picks Jon Rahm to win. Others are going with Rickie Fowler, saying it’s finally his time. Could this be Tiger’s true return to greatness? Probably not. Hope springs. Rory. Rosie. Phippy. Dustin. Justin. I say a random unknown will take the claret jug.
So. Set the DVR for 1:30 AM. Coffee and pot bunkers await.
A Tiger woke this morning. Lots of circles on his card. 6 under through 9. And he barely made the cut. Still. The island green always looms large. Phippy did not. His tighty white dress shirt strangled the swing. J-Rod jinxed the Bronx Bombers by showing up at Thursday’s game against the BoSox. But. They are pretty. Mother’s Day lobster shopping between squalls. Yay.
Make America laugh again. Journalists are such easy prey. They take themselves so seriously that any jab puts them into supercilious overdrive. Get a grip. Stop swinging at low hanging fruit and do some real reporting. Stormy. Really? And. Of course. Dennis Rodman would love to join the Rocket Man summit. Why not?
Speaking of light. Two out of three books so far fit the bill. The Wife Between Us, by Greer Hendricks, Sarah Pekkanen. Not sure why this took two women to conjure it. Disturbed families. Vulnerable adults. Worth a few hours on a wintry Saturday. Mrs., Caitlin Macy. Upper East Side moms. Nothing more than trite. However, The Woman In the Window, by A.J. Finn is not light at all. Dr.Husband reports depressing and tedious. So nope. Won’t read that one.
Apologies to Archie Bell & the Drells. Go Tiger!