Those posts were absolute comedy gold!
One occasionally pauses to think about the Bostonian Drunkard Bill.
If one thinks about him long enough to form an image of him in one's mind, the sight becomes sadly winsomely poignant, bringing one very close to an increased secretion of the lachrymal glands.
Of course I did know Bill a long time, beginning when he was the press secretary for then-congressman Dennis Kucinich of Ohio in 2004. Then he made the mistake of trying to get a more lucrative berth aboard the Kerry bandwagon, hoping to buy a position in exchange for all the dark secrets he knew of the Kucinich campaign.
(Both were Democrats in 2004, but they were fierce competitors too.)
He told them all they wanted to know, after which they turned their backs on him, as they'd gotten what they wanted and couldn't think of anything else he could do for them.
After which followed more than ten years of bumbling, fumbling incompetence and stupidity.
Nowadays, he's a squalid flaccid fifty years old, still waiting to get the proceeds of the trust fund his grandfather left him. He'll get them after his mother dies, and his mother doesn't show any inclination to leave this time and place anytime soon. In the meantime, if he wants money, he still has to ask Mom for it.
Poor pitiful Bill.
