There are plenty of places near DC to hold secret conferences about prostitution scandals. But on Friday, I found myself driving all the way up US Route 95. On the outskirts of Baltimore are a number of nondescript, inconsequential and mostly unknown municipalities. One of these is named Glen Burnie, Maryland. It’s truly a place… Continue reading Dial M for Madam
Shortly after three o’clock this afternoon, I was working at my desk. The telephone rang. I answered it. Scooter: Tom, this is Scooter Libby. Tom: The Scooter Libby who was convicted in federal court today? Scooter: What other Scooter Libbys do you know, Tom Collins? Tom: I don’t remember. Scooter: Come on, Tom, I was… Continue reading Will Libby, Libby, Libby Get The Slammer, Slammer, Slammer?
My dear sister Rose Lotus dropped by last night, her eyes red from crying. It’s some kind of pattern – the men screw up and their wives contact me for help – I guess it’s my basic animal magnetism that makes them identify me with salvation; although I am aware that sounds a bit kinky… Continue reading There’s an Investor Born Every Minute
After spending three days going over a stack of redacted photocopies concerning some kind of aircraft, I finally met with a couple of shady fellows who ostensibly represented some organization somewhere that wanted my advice about avionics. It surely wasn’t Deltana Associates, Inc. – no, DAI had “front company” written all over it. We met… Continue reading Go Fly With Them
The Obama fund raiser called me just minutes after the one who works for Hillary Clinton. Could he visit me this evening? Sure – I had both of them show up at eight, figuring one would arrive enough in advance of the other that they wouldn’t meet on my lawn; and if they did, what… Continue reading Watch Out Obama, Here Come Chelsea’s Momma