Too, too funny: Back in the day when Gov. Krispy Kreme, er, Chris Christie was my CPWB (Chief Pretend Weekday Boyfriend), I would fantasize about my love gov and me “under the boardwalk, down by the sea,” the waves of the Jersey Shore caressing us with their Aphrodite-ish foam as we embraced like Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in “From Here to Eternity” – OK, more like two beached whales – to the soundtrack of Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road.”
Now, it has all come true. Sort of. ...
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Read MoreThank goodness I have Rafael Nadal as my BPB (Backup Pretend Boyfriend) since I may have to demote Gov. Chris Christie from CPB (Chief Pretend Boyfriend).
Gov. Krispy Kreme – as I affectionately like to call him – is in deep political doodoo after his henchmen (oh, sorry, aides) apparently sought revenge on Fort Lee, N.J. Mayor Mark Sokolich by snarling traffic on his city’s stretch of the George Washington Bridge after he declined to support their boss’ bid for gubernatorial reelection. It is a measure of how far our civilization has come, or fallen, that men now avenge themselves not by decapitation or declaring war but by traffic jams – although if you’ve ever sat in one on the GWB, you might be yearning for the guillotine.
More is at stake here, of course, than Gov. Krispy Kreme’s potential presidential candidacy. There’s the whole issue of a relationship that exists only in my mind. Ever since he burst onto the scene, I have felt that we were kindred spirits. Read more
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