Today, just a quick little quiz.
After reviewing video evidence from Thursday night’s Rocco Recovery Plan, something becomes very evident: Won is smarter than the other Won. Can you tell which Won is which?
I’ll give you a few hints that I’ve gleaned from the archival footage of the big speech. See if you can figure it out:
Won of the Wons knows that just raising the cadence and inflection to the oratorical timber of a rousing Sunday morning sermon isn’t likely to create many jobs for Americans. Won knows that cynically asserting Republicans like Abraham Lincoln himself would support these proposals isn’t going to garner much support for another spending spree. And Won knows that insisting that “everything is paid for” when we still haven’t figured out how to pay for what we bought over the past three years makes it sound like we’re in the throes of deep denial. Won of them knows that it’s no longer sufficient to preach to the choir since we seem to have lost so many of them to the unemployment lines.
The other Won still thinks “Yes we can!” All we have to do is take the bread and circuses to the peeps.
“Here! Have a bag of my carmel corn!”
And Won of them is getting a little cocky about it all – and won’t listen to any one’s advice anymore, including ValJar and Lady M. Oh oh! Did I just give the answer away?
Let’s just say that Lady M, having once worked in a hospital, knows how to conduct triage better than Big Guy. She at least knows that when the patient is bleeding from the jugular you apply a tourniquet not a band-aide.
It didn’t take long for the the magic to leak out of the Capital and onto Wall Street. Yesterday if spilled over unto the floor of the New York Stock Exchange:
Butt forget about our Shoes For Industry speech for a moment – everyone else has. I don’t want you to read too much into Lady M’s body language. The real explanation for her dyspeptic look at the big read is far more mundane.
And has nothing to do with pain pills and alcohol. It was just due to a bit of gastro-intestinal distress caused by one of our own Big White organic veggies. Since she hasn’t been eating well lately, Chef mixed some baby carrots in with Lady M’s pre-speech bowl of Cheetos, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She didn’t, butt apparently they were rogue carrots that came from the “evil” side of our organic garden of good and evil; they carried a few unauthorized “organics” along with the usual. (Now I know why I’ve been dispatched to the Farmer’s Market this morning.)
Don’t worry though, as I’m sure you’ve seen, Lady M was in fine shape again by Friday morning for the “Let’s Move” tennis and hula hoop event in New York.
I know you’ve all been worried about Big Guy too. Butt again, no need. He didn’t seem to be effected by the toxic carrots. Maybe because he used enough hot sauce on his:
He is, however, just a bit cheezed with the R-words for not signing on to Rocco’s Shoes For Industry plan. So the Big White staff has gone into overdrive to take his message straight to the streets. More on that tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got to run to the market. I understand the organic veggies there all have to meet FDA guidelines.