You Can't Outeat An Elephant

I said it was going to be a treat and it apparently was. As an added bonus out there at Coney Island before this year's Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, there was to be another contest. A contest that would pit man against beast in a competition that most of the world has thankfully never had to hear of nor experience.

And it's just as well at this point. That's because in what could one day be seen as the first definitive sign of devolution (aka, de-evolution. The de-evolving of a species. Yep, made that up.) and what will likely be seen as a huge step back for humans everywhere (but mostly in the US, as we seem to not only encourage, but willingly participate in this sort of event), three competitive eaters were out-eaten by a trio of Asian elephants.

Good Lord, when did it come to this? Actually, I don't know if I care so much because my hero, the God-like national treasure George Shea was on hand to witness and emcee the event. And just as I expected, he did not disappoint. When asked to comment on the debacle, he replied, “Am I embarrassed for my species? Of course I am. This is as dark a day for humanity as the evening of the Hindenberg crash. But this time, my heart is screaming, ‘Oh, the pachydermity! Oh, the pachydermity!" See?! How can you not LOVE that!

The three elephants were on loan the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. I guess they gave them the day off from standing on one leg on those little multi-colored stools. How humane of them. The trio of Bunny, 42, Susie, 46, and Minnie, 48, weighed approximately nine tons. That stacks up fairly evenly to the weight of their three competitors which is right around 500 pounds. Sure. Totally even.

The News & Record gives us the lowdown on the three humans that mankind had selected to represent our species were a one Eric "Badlands" Booker, Tim "Gravy" Brown and Juliet Lee. Booker looks like he could have out eaten the elephants by himself. Even if you didn't know what the guy looked like, just perusing his list of records for eating obscene amounts of various foods in ridiculously short periods of time would be enough to have you wondering if maybe someone should have brought in an extra elephant just to keep up with this guy. He holds the record for eating things like:

Corned beef hash (4 pounds of hash in 1 minute and 58 seconds)

Doughnuts (49 glazed donuts in 8 minutes)

Peas (9.5 1 lb. bowls in 12 minutes)

Tim "Gravy" Brown can say that his claim to fame is eating 8.47 pounds of blueberry pie in eight-minutes. Hands free. Ugh. I don't even want to know how that's possible. I don't. Don't try to tell me!

And little (and kinda hot)Juliet Lee has proven that Gravy Brown isn't the only one that can set an eating record in only eight minutes. She is the cranberry sauce eating champion of the world. You earn a title like that one if you can eat (brace yourself) 13.23 pounds of cranberry sauce in eight minutes. And if you're not careful, pulling stunts like that will also earn you the title of "mentally ill".

But back to George Shea and the battle over which species could eat more hot dog buns in only six minutes. (That's right. Just the buns. Doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun there. Then again, none of this competitive eating stuff looks like a whole lot of fun. It looks absolutely disgusting.) Our friends of at The Brooklyn Paper remind us to consider than an elephant can eat an entire loaf of bread in under TWO SECONDS. With something like that you really need to psych yourself up to believe that your species even has half a chance at winning this thing. Enter George Shea for some encouraging words before the battle began.


"The humans are hoping that their superior intellect comes into play. For instance they can dunk the rolls in water...The human gustatory gladiators have another advantage over the gentle vegetarian giants. Perhaps the elephants won’t understand the word ‘Go.’”

And at first, Shea's speculation seemed rather accurate as the elephants seemed to get off to a slow start. Can you blame them? They were probably wondering what in the hell the humans had gotten themselves into this time. All of the pondering! It slows one down! (I should know!) At the halfway mark of three minutes, Shea screamed out, "They are eating with leisurely elan! Clearly, they do not have the competitive spirit of their human betters!” Oh, they were just toying with us, George.

I'm sure you will be shocked, just shocked, to learn that in the end the elephants won. And not by a little bit, either.

Hot dog eating pachyderms: 505 hot dog buns

Devolving humans: 143 pathetic buns.


Fortunately, George Shea took the loss as only a humble organizer could and lamented, "As you know, I have had two dreams in life. One is to see two competitive eaters enter a convenience store and eat it to the ground, with one starting in the chips aisle and the other starting at the Slushies. That dream remains unfulfilled. But my other dream was to have a sanctioned eating competition between man and another species — and today that dream became a reality.”

But don't think that he's done with the elephants and all of the eating. I have the feeling that this match-up will happen again. I base that solely on Shea expressing that "“When most people see elephants, they see the majesty of nature. To me, I see an arrogant animal that needs to be taken down a notch.”

Just don't let the elephants distract you from the REAL hot dog eating contest on the 4th. Whatever you do George, and you do it SO well, don't get distracted. Now, bring on the hot dogs!

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Hot Dogs and Asian Elephants to Celebrate the 4th

If you do nothing else tomorrow on the Fourth of July, Independence Day, make sure that you at least tune into ESPN around noon EST for the 94th (Yes! 94!) annual Nathan's Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog-Eating Contest at Coney Island. I swear. But I don't recommend it for most reasons that you'd probably think of.

Watching a bunch of grown men and a few grown women shove dog after dog after dog down their gullet in an attempt to be proclaimed the champion and take possession of the coveted award, the Mustard Yellow Belt. Oh, it's quite a sight. The belt. The eating. The whole deal. Behold!
As a seasoned veteran spectator of this spectacle, I'll give you a crash course primer on the things to pay the most attention to. (Trust me. It's such a disgusting mess at times, you really don't know where to look and your only instinct is to look AWAY! But if you do that, you'll miss some real good eatin'!) There are really only two names that you need to know. There's Takeru Kobayashi from Japan. Kobayashi came onto the scene in 2001 when the record from the year before was 25 hot dogs in 12 minutes. Kobayashi (pardon the pun) devoured that record by downing FIFTY dogs AND buns in 12 minutes. Why, yes, that's about one dog every 14.4 seconds, that is correct! He uses a technique I've dubbed the "Snap n'Cram" where he snaps the hot dog in half and as that's being crammed into his mouth, he's dunking the bun in water and then sucking that up.

He's the first guy you're going to want to pay attention to. (With any luck, there will be a shot of him lifting up his shirt at some point. You wouldn't know it to look at the guy, as he looks a bit scrawny, but he is incredibly muscular. Six pack abs and all! Behold!

Then there's reigning champion Joey Chestnut who hails from practically right down the road from my walled compound here in San Jose, CA (otherwise known as "The Valley"). If Kobayashi's technique is the "Snap n'Cram" Joey's technique is "The Cram n'Jump". And it's executed just like it sounds. He crams the hot dog and bun into his mouth and then kind of jumps up and down a little bit. It's sort of like how you shake a bottle of ketchup when the ketchup is all stuck in the neck, only it's in reverse and it's with a hell of a lot of hot dogs. Joey first beat Kobayashi in 2007 by eating an absolutely sickening 66 hot dogs and buns in 12 minutes. If you think that's amazing, in 2008, after someone discovered some handwritten notes dating back to 1918 that had to contest as being for only 10 minutes, the International Federation OF Competitive Eating (I swear) wanted to be true to the roots of the contest and shortened the time by two minutes. So what happened? Joey and Kobayashi tied at 59 hot dogs and buns each and they had to go to a five dog eat off. Whoever could eat the five dogs the fastest wins.

While 5 hot dogs might not sound like much, you have to keep in mind that at this point, these guys just ATE 59 hot dogs. And they've stopped eating for at least five minutes before the dog-off starts. By then, I'm thinking that the chances for a, um, a reversal of fortune, shall we say, are more and more likely. I can't imagine you'd even want to look at another hot dog again for the rest of your life, let alone try and shove five more in your food hole. By the way, an eight pack of Nathan's dogs weighs 1 pound. Thus, not figuring in the weight of the buns, 64 hot dogs would weigh eight pounds! Add the buns and the water and you're easily cramming close to ten extra pounds INTO your body in ten minutes. That's a pound a minute for you folks out there too busy trying not to vomit to do the math. Gross

So those are your two main players. But wait. There's more! You can't have an event such as this without someone calling the shots. You need an announcer. No, you need a color commentary guy. No, you need a guy with a love for literature. No, you need a wordsmith of the ages. A man who can take individual words and phrases and put them all in a proverbial hat, mix them up, pull them out and match 'em up as if they were Garanimals to construct and form the most utterly amazing sentences in the English language that you will ever hear in your entire life. You need George Shea.

George Shea is a national treasure. The man is brilliant. George Shea is the co-founder, along with his brother Richard, of the IFOCE and they both make the rounds on the competitive eating circuit announcing various events each year. And while I can't vouch for Richard's talents (and I have no reason to doubt that they're any less than formidable), I can vouch for George's skills and they are phenomenal. It's a combination between his love for language and love for watching and orchestrating competitive eating. The words that come out of his mouth are PURE poetry! A few examples from our national treasure, George Shea:

• They say that competitive eating is the battleground upon which God and Lucifer wage war for men's souls. (Um, WHO says that? WHEN do they say that?)
  
  
• For this is a battle of the ages. It's a battle of the titans. That man this is half God and half man and comes to earth only once!
  
  
• We arrive at this moment by the unswerving punctuality of chance! (I don't even know what in the hell that means, but I DO know that it's hilarious!)

• He is eating in an arena of pure emotion! This is about the triumph of the human spirit. It is nothing short of the triumph of the human spirit. As I said.
  
  
• It's like that song by David Bowie. Major Tom. You're enjoying it and then you realize how sad it is. Major Tom's not coming back. He's up in that tin can. He tells his wife he loves her very much she knows. But it's very sad. Major Tom's not coming back. But the belt may be coming back to Brooklyn!
  

Finally. A wordsmith our country can be proud of! So, Saturday. 12 noon EST. ESPN. A bunch of guys and a couple of chicks eating hot dogs really fast with a guy doing beautiful and nutty commentary. It's sure to make you proud to be an American! But if you're still not convinced, there's an added bonus this year! Yes, an added incentive for you to tune in and feel your body awash from head to toe in American pride. According to the folks over there at CNN (who really screwed up the story about the Michael Jackson funeral, so I hope and pray that they got this story right) "As a lead-in to the main event, Major League Eating on Friday will hold a first-of-its-kind "cross-species" eating contest between three competitive eaters and three Asian elephants. Shea described it as the realization of one of his two lifelong dreams, the other being a scenario in which a dozen competitive eaters eat the entire contents of a convenience store."

God bless America! Land of the free! Home of the brave! And the place for eating competitions pitting humans against pachyderms! Two outta three ain't bad!

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Technically, It's a Landing Strip

No one likes it when their flight is delayed. But I'd imagine that it's more miserable when one's flight is delayed because of some jackass on the plane who's making life difficult for other passengers. You've heard the story. The drunk. The disorderly. The disrobing. The disruptive. The...um...hey. Wait. What was that one? Right before 'disruptive'? Yeah. The disrobing? Uh, what now?

According to the LA Times a man identified as a one Keith Anthony Wright, age old enough to know better at 50, was aboard a US Airways jet that originated in Charlotte, NC and was on the way to Los Angeles. For some reason, Mr. Wright decided that all of the clothing that he was wearing was suddenly too cumbersome or something. Whatever the reason, it rendered the clothing unnecessary for Mr. Wright, who shed every stitch that he was wearing mid-flight. Seriously. Behold!

Look, I'm all for someone not talking during the flight. I can only stand to hear about the life and times of someone who, if all goes well, I will likely never see again in my life. You don't want to talk? Fine with me. You don't want to talk, but you DO want to take off all of your clothes and just sit there like nothing's out of the ordinary? That's not so fine with me, you fruitcake.

Of course, flight attendants (and I'm sure screaming passengers) requested that Mr. Wright put his clothing back on, but to no avail. The thing is, from what I can tell, he wasn't doing anything other than being naked. Granted, that's enough! I agree! But it just makes it so odd. I mean, there are plenty of completely disgusting things that he could have been doing as he sat there unclad. But he just appeared to be sitting there. That is, until he got into a fight with the two off duty cops who were on the flight. Then he was a bit unruly.

Fortunately, the guys with the clothes won and managed to subdue him to the point where they could put those plastic-tie handcuffs on him and attach him to the seats. Oh, and cover him up with a blanket until they made an emergency landing in Albuquerque where he was arrested and ordered to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. You think?!

If I were on that flight, as I've previously stated, I'd be annoyed. Perhaps that is what motivated a one Marius Langlete, who was seated across from the Naked Gun and helped restrain him, to take several pictures with his phone and immediately upload them to the Internet. Ah, technology. Is there anything it can't do?

One of Mr. Wright's family members who commented on his 'behavior' gave the excuse that he is "bi-polar", to which I say, "Please pipe down." There are a lot of fully clad people out there who are bi-polar. Being bi-polar has nothing to do with whether or not you keep all of your clothes on at all time throughout the flight. Just like you keep your tray table in that upright position, you keep your damn clothes on, got it? I don't care if you're bi-polar or homicidal (well, I do kinda care about the homicidal part, especially if you're in the middle seat next to me, because everyone in that seat is just cranky), the unsaid rule that society in general has agreed upon is clothing is MANDATORY regardless of your mental illness!

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You Are Here. Now Call 911

Speaking of liars, a lot of stuff coming out about the whole Michael Jackson death is proving to be false. About the only thing that seems to be for certain is that he's dead. Oh, and that his Dad is an A-hole. Other than those two things, it's hard to tell what's true and what isn't. But it's not hard to tell when something doesn't make sense. That doctor that was there when Michael stopped breathing? Yeah, he's not making a whole lot of sense.

I'm referring to a one Dr. Conrad Murray. He was the guy who was there when Michael stopped breathing. For some reason (and I'm thinking it's a reason other than the one that he's giving) it took the guy almost 25-30 minutes to call 911. Why so long? According to ABC News, Dr. Murray said that "...none of the phones in the home (were) working "for privacy reasons" and he "...tried to dial 911 on his cell phone but did not have the exact address of Jackson's home." Um, what?

None of the phones worked? What? I suppose that would be fairly easy to ascertain as to whether or not it's true, thus it would be one of the stupidest lies that someone could come up with if they were actually lying (which I'm not saying that he is) about something like that.

But the 911 thing? Now that I have a problem with. According to a one Matt Alford, an attorney who is representing Dr. Murray, as quoted by the Associated Press, " He didn't know where he was, didn't know the physical address. There was no land line, no phone in Jackson's room that would have allowed him to call. It was all happening so fast." Wait. What now?

How did you get yourself to work every day, sir? Hadn't you been working for him for a while? At least a month, if I recall other reports correctly. You didn't know where you were driving yourself to every day? I know that he drove himself there because the LAPD towed his car the evening of Michael's death. How could you not know the address?

The article also cites Mr. Alford as saying that "doesn't know how long Murray performed CPR on the singer before rushing downstairs to find someone to call 911."

I'm really not trying to second guess the guy in this situation. After all, he allegedly just found Michael Jackson not breathing. Sounds stressful. But why wouldn't you yell for someone? Why would you leave him there to go and find someone? THAT I don't get.

"The first person Murray encountered was the chef, who then got one of Jackson's security guards. The security guard went with Murray to Jackson's room."

So....wait. He goes wherever in the house and finds the chef. Rather than having the chef call 911 or telling the chef to get someone to help him up in the room or asking the chef what the address is, he hangs out or whatever until the chef shows up with a security guard and THEN he goes back to the room? Why did he wait? If the chef was going to get someone else, why didn't he go back up to the room and resume doing CPR? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Again, I realize it's a stressful situation, but this guy is a cardiologist. You'd think that they'd be able to handle some stress.

According to Dr. Murray and his attorney, Dr. Murray was performing CPR on Michael and had the security guard call 911. WHY he wouldn't have called 911 AS he was running around to find someone so that they could tell him the address is beyond me. Even if I'm going to believe his story of he didn't know the address (and I don't think I'm believing that at all right now) why he wouldn't have called 911 as soon as possible from his cell phone and handed it to the chef or the security guard when he got there doesn't make any sense. It seems like a lot of time was wasted with this guy doing whatever it was that he was doing.

When you listen to the 911 tapes, the 911 operator asks the person who called (presumably the security guard) where Jackson is and the security guard tells him that he's on the bed. CPR is supposed to be performed on a solid surface. That's why at that point the 911 operator instructs the guy to get Jackson (whom he didn't know was Michael Jackson at that moment) on the floor. Why wouldn't a cardiologist already have him on the floor? If he was doing CPR for whatever amount of time it was (before he decided he should find someone to tell him the freaking address or the house he drove himself to that day,) why in the world was he doing it with him still on the bed? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Although, if the doctor had something to do with why it was that Michael stopped breathing in the first place, then his behavior seems a bit more understandable. Again, pure speculation, but if someone were to administer a medication to someone else and that other person suddenly stopped breathing, your first instinct, depending on how big of an a-hole you were, might be to run around and get rid of anything that could possibly connect you with being partly responsible for the other person's death, should it come to that. That sort of situation might cause one to forget how to do CPR procedures correctly. Perhaps it could even cause one to forget the address of where they had gone to work that morning. Who knows?

While I can understand all of the people that are saying that Michael Jackson wasn't hooked on prescription drugs or painkillers, it seems highly unlikely that they're telling the truth. Go back to 1993 when Michael cut a tour short and announced that he was going to go into "treatment" somewhere for an addiction to painkillers. You never heard a word about it after that, though he did disappear from public view for about a month (even though treatment was supposed to take about 8 weeks). That was in 1993. Fast forward to 2005 where court documents detailing his financial situation for some court case he was involved in give an example of some of his bills: "...a charge of $62,600 from the Mickey Fine Pharmacy, in Beverly Hills". That covered the two prior years worth of prescriptions filled. Then fast forward to 2007 where Jackson is sued by that very same pharmacy because they claimed that he had made his last payment to them in mid-2005 for prescriptions filled over last two years. In 2007, that lawsuit claimed he was once again behind and that he owed them $101,926.66 for prescriptions filled. So the difference between the amount of prescriptions filled between 2003-2005 and 2005-2007 was around 61%. From $62,600 to $101,926.66. That doesn't sound like someone without some sort of a dependency on something.

I don't know what went on there that afternoon, but I do know if the doctor's story is that he didn't call 911 right away because he "didn't know where he was" that it raises more questions that it answers. (One of those questions being how in the world someone so dense was able to become a doctor in the first place?) If the toxicology reports come back and there isn't anything abnormal in Michael's system, I will be shocked. (Who are two of his closest friends? Liza Minnelli and Liz Taylor. They've been known to overindulge in the feel good substances from time to time. Like 1968-2004.) My bets are on at least three different narcotics. Oh, I totally hope that isn't the case, but it's not looking like it is. Not from present behavior and not from past lawsuits.

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You're Not Hiking, You're Having An Affair

When did people become such bad liars? Or maybe the question is, when did people stop caring if they were bad liars? At the very least, when did people start going with completely implausible scenarios and acting as if they expect the public to believe them? Then again, when did the public start believing them?

I do know when people who were prone to lying started altering the content of their lies to conveniently leave out key information that would likely be interpreted by people in a certain way, only to find out that it really wasn't that way at all. But because of the way that the lie was phrased, it allows the weasel to say that he didn't lie and that what he said was "taken out of context". "Taken out of context" is BS talk for "caught lying". That all started with the whole I-did-not-have-sex-with-that-woman Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinksy fiasco. And the liars haven't looked back since.

So when I hear South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford speak in relation to the newly discovered affair that he was having with a woman in Argentina, I notice that there are some details left out and that they're details that most people will just assume they know what they are and fill in the blanks with that assumption. But I prefer to speculate wildly about what could fill in those blanks. And I shall do so right now.

(By the way, I wouldn't have to speculate about anything if the media would just do their damn job once in a while and have the "reporters" actually "report". A reporters story should answer the questions that the reader might have about what they're reading. It's a pretty basic concept, but sadly, it's one that has been lost in so many areas of the media lately. I just wanted to make clear that I'm not out to make the folks who did these interviews at the Associated Press look bad. I'd prefer to just comment on the idiocy of Gov. Sanford. But when the Governor's answers seem to imply rather than answer, the AP should pick up on that and if they don't, I'm left speculating all over the place.)

A brief recap: Gov. Sanford left on June 18 for Argentina where the other woman, a one Maria Belen Chapur, lives. The thing is he didn't tell anyone where he was going and led folks to believe that he was hiking the Appalachian Trail. He says he didn't check his voicemail for four days and that's why he had "no idea" people were wondering where he was. He's the governor. Doesn't he have a state to run? Did he really think that would be a) OK with people and/or b) a smart thing to do? If he thought either one, that would make it clear that he's too inept to be a governor. Whether or not having an affair is a reason for a politician to be called upon to resign is debatable. But not telling anyone where you're going and being completely out of touch for four days and then lying not telling the truth about where you were when you're the governor IS reason enough for someone to be compelled to resign. Because not only does that say "I lie to my wife and I cheat on her", it also screams out "AND I'm a dumbass". Dumbasses should not be governors.

For some reason, almost a week after he had held a press conference admitting he was having an affair with the woman from Argentina (Why Argentina? Is that because it's another one of those jobs Americans won't do?), he did three more hours of interviews with the Associated Press that took place from his Statehouse office over a period of two days. The interview was written up as a narrative and the exact questions that were asked of the governor are not completely clear to me because they're not stated. While you can infer what the question was, there's an issue being danced around that makes the question very relevant. The interview and/or the results of such begin like this:

"Sanford also said that he "crossed the lines" with a handful of other women during 20 years of marriage, but not as far as he did with his mistress.
"There were a handful of instances wherein I crossed the lines I shouldn't have crossed as a married man, but never crossed the ultimate line," he said."

Um, OK. See, I really need to know what the question was. I need to know if the question was along the lines of "Have you ever had an affair before?" , "Was this the first affair that you've had?" or if it was along the lines of, "How many other women have you cheated on your wife with?", "Have there been other women you've had affairs with?" See the difference? It's hard for me to know if his answer is honest or very misleading. And if it is misleading, there's a HUGE reason it is so. Moving on....

"What I would say is that I've never had sex with another woman. Have I done stupid? I have. You know you meet someone. You dance with them. You go to a place where you probably shouldn't have gone," Sanford said, declining to discuss details. "If you're a married guy at the end of the day you shouldn't be dancing with somebody else. So anyway without wandering into that field we'll just say that I let my guard down in all senses of the word without ever crossing the line that I crossed with this situation."

He starts off by making sure that he says that he's never had sex with another woman. That's the last time that he uses the word woman. After that, he says "someone" and "somebody else". He doesn't say "you meet a woman" or "you shouldn't be dancing with a woman who isn't your wife". What a surprise that he doesn't want to discuss details either. I wonder why that would be? Granted, he's not real bright. But he's also a liar. And with the whole implying that he was hiking the Appalachian Trail story, should I really put it past him that he's not trying to do the same thing with this interview? What else, governor?

Sanford, at times crying and unabashedly emotional, acknowledged in the AP interview that he had casual encounters with other women while he was married but before he met Chapur. They took place during trips outside the country to "blow off steam" with male friends.

Now while I'm not a guy, I am familiar with the species. So while I know it is not unusual for guys to have their "guy time" together and when they do, it does tend to be in groups, I can't say that I know of any guys that are married, let alone married with four children, who take a trip sans wife (at the very least!) outside of the country. (Wait. Does Tijuana during Spring Break count? Yeah, I didn't think so either.) Hmmm.

While I don't know much about his wife, Jenny Sanford, but I know this much: I know that she didn't stand there by his side at his confessional press conference. Thus, I LIKE HER. Elliott Spitzer's wife, John Edwards's, the many, many other wives who stand their next to their unfaithful husband and listen to him tell a gaggle of reporters that he was having sex with a woman that wasn't her. I always wonder why those women are there. They never say anything. I'd understand if they were there and kept interrupting him and making sarcastic comments or continually reminding the press to make sure that they don't forget to print how tiny his penis is. That I could respect and understand. But silently pulling the Tammy Wynette "Stand by Your Man" gig? No way. So seeing ol' "Fled" Sanford up there solo was a nice change. Too bad there couldn't have been a non-cheating politician up there as well for another nice change, but one out of two is about par these days.

The point is that I find it hard to believe that she would condone her husband leaving the country when they have FOUR children (aged about 16, 15, 12 and 10) so that he can go and "blow off steam" with "male friends". Don't get me wrong. I have the feeling that there probably were "male friends" involved. I'm also getting the sense that there might have been something being blown, but I don't think it was steam. Unless that's what they're calling it these days.

That's all I've got. I have no idea what the question posed to Mark Sanford by the AP reporter was that would make it easier for me to interpret his answers. If the AP reporter did not specifically state that the questions that were being asked were referring to WOMEN then his answers leave a lot of room for interpretation. The man lies and then blows it off as if people just misinterpreted him. Like when he was asked why his staff said he was on the Appalachian Trail. His initial answer was, "I don't know." But later on "in fairness to his staff" Stanford said that he had told them he might go hiking on the Appalachian Trail. Might. Might! Hey! It's not his fault they took that to mean that he was hiking on the Appalachian Trail! He said "might". Might!

See what kind of guy he is? The weasely kind. The weasely, lying, cheating and throwing your staff under the bus while you're at it, kind of guy is what kind of guy he is. And guys that are that weasely are usually calculated in what they say. That's why I have no idea as to why he's admitting to previous affairs when, as far as I can tell, the question hadn't been raised. Do I think he had other affairs? Oh, totally. Do I think they were all with other women? Hell no I don't. And that's why I'm waiting for a gay male friend in another country to surface and talk about all of the "steam blowing" that went on between him and the Governor of South Carolina. I wouldn't have to wait if reporters doing interviews would just ask questions that are clear and then make it clear in the articles that they write that the clear questions were asked. Until then, I'm going to speculate that there's a gay male lover or two involved here somehow. Nice job, AP.

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