Miss me?
Not particularly, although I did hear through the grapevine that your fishing trip to Minnesota was more like ‘Deliverance,’ minus the banjos and buggery. Which is a shame. That the banjos and buggery were missing, I mean. But it can’t have been that much of an endurance test if a toffee-nosed worm like you managed to come back in one piece.
Not at all. Spot of rain in the air never hurt an Englishman, it makes the new cherry swing. And I had my punkahwallah along to do the hard paddling and keep the midges off me in the evening. All in all, a spiffing little trip. What have I missed?
Well, it’s always safe to assume Bevin is getting sideways with Beshear — but of course that’s about as surprising as Trump alienating America’s trading partners and allies for cheap ratings, right?
Of course. And are you still convinced Bevin’s going to primary McConnell?
Totally. McConnell thinks so too. You probably missed it, but McConnell commented about Kentucky for once and encouraged Bevin to run for governor again. Ergo, McConnell doesn’t want to get primaried by Bevin but thinks he’s going to be. It’s also probably the reason McConnell is sucking up to Trump by calling for Mueller to end his probe.
Can you imagine being McConnell, knowing that your place in the history books will be reduced to “Trump’s lickspittle”? Jesus, what a way to end it. I’ve got more respect for heroin addicts who rob sweet shops. At least their excuse is a chemical dependency.
Speaking of our esteemed governor, he’s also given advance notice that he’ll throw his toys out the pram when his Medicare work requirement gets bunged out by the courts.
Yeah, baby. Booting half-a-million Kentuckians off their health insurance was always the true goal and I couldn’t give a shit. Well, except for those who didn’t vote for him and for whom it’s very tough luck. But you can only bail people out from their own stupidity for so long; eventually you have to let them find out the consequences for themselves.
If only we could ensure that only Bevin supporters got chucked off I’d be more inclined to agree with you. But here we are and America’s paying the price for its atavistic addiction to capitalism and entertainment. Which reminds me, Fischer spent over a hundred grand taking mystery punters to the Derby, if pissing the public coffers up the wall interests you.
He didn’t invite me, so bollocks to him. I would like to know which toad-eaters he did take, though.
It’s not going to be anyone interesting. SCALA members, old donors and cronies … that sort of thing. Getting the mayoral campaign bankrolled one last time, perhaps? I assume he’s ultimately hoping for an Abrahamson-type deal. You know, get a President with a D after his name, get a cushy low-pressure White House gig in recognition for his unyielding support of upper middle- to high-income Democrats.
We should move on, too. This is supposed to be LEO’s Dining Issue, so what’s the No. 1 thing you miss about British food?
I’m not a foodie, as you know. For me food is basically functional — not that I’m not a bit of an epicurean when it comes to delicacies like Creme eggs and chips. All I can say is that the best British cooking today competes with anything the world has to offer.
Agreed. The weirdest thing about food here is how pricey it is. I used to think that stuff in America was cheaper than anywhere else, and Yanks wholeheartedly believe that themselves. It’s part of the American dream to think they have the inalienable right to stuff themselves with nosh that’s not only better but cheaper than it is anywhere else on the planet. And it couldn’t be more wrong.
Food here is fucking expensive, mate, even the cheap stuff. And don’t get me started on cheese. I may consider food a necessity rather than something to wank over, but I do love a cracking bit of Wensleydale. Still, it’s downright criminal how dear it is here. It’s almost cheaper to subscribe to Spectrum and not watch the World Cup because somehow Alexi Lalas is always around to ruin it.
Now you’re talking: The World Cup! But what a bloody waste of time it’s going to be this year. England’ll be lucky to make it to the second round — where they’ll lose ignominiously and traditionally on penalty kicks and head home with their tails between their legs.
Just this year? I gave up on the idea of England winning anything decades ago, so if they make the Quarters it’ll feel like victory. Ignominious defeat no longer feels like a letdown; it’s more like destiny.
The Cup’s coming here in eight years — if state-sponsored Russian hooligans and Qatari slavery scandals don’t put the kibosh on the whole thing by then.
The USA only had to beat out Morocco — even though it took a multi-billion-dollar bribe and partnering with two countries that now hate the USA. FIFA’s the most corrupt organization in the world run by the world’s most corrupt public official. Sepp Blatter’s blatant pocket-lining makes me wonder why he hasn’t already been offered a place in Trump’s cabinet. He could even teach Fat Nixon a thing or two about wringing every last golden egg out of the hen.
Who do you reckon’s going to win it this time around?
Not Russia. Not England. Absolutely 100 percent not the USA. And I hope to hell it’s not the damned Hun again. So: Final swan song for Messi — maybe the Argies?
I don’t know about that, chum. Their keeper had a Karius-scale mare against Iceland and their defence was even more porous than anything the Cohen-Guiliani team could ever come up with. I’m good with the Argies, though: It’ll make the British fascist right explode. Revenge of the General Belgrano and all that.
Argentina it is, then. Come on, let’s go to Molly’s and face our fate like men. Bring on the Belgians!
Welp. •