(Photo by Fred Askew)
Aw heck - I know I'm hardly the first or last 'Ho to express this sentiment, but gosh darn it - I love New York! Yes, yes, I know it's full of brigands and ne'er-do-wells and Katie Couric and waiter/actor/models who will just as soon soulfully emote at you as look at you (not to mention that if you happen to leave your hot Choco-Prune Krispy Kreme next to the sink in the ladies' room at City Hall, you will totally see Jerry Nadler walking by later sucking what you KNOW to be the jelly from it off his tie, and you just can't say anything, because he's all "I'm Jerry Nadler! I can have you hauled in for hard time at Gitmo, or turn your spleen to dust with my powerful electro-ray fourth-eye vision, for I am the mighty Jerry Nadler! Fear me, puny human!!!"), but Rovey and I got one heck of a warm reception when we popped into town last Wednesday night.
See, a bunch of Rovey's boss's friends (they're called the Mavericks, and I bet it's because they know how to steal a big, crazy deal when they see one!) paid $250 each to share a snack with my Cuddlenumpkins at a restaurant in Manhattan (and believe me - I'd shell out ten times that to have the privilege of splitting a fruit roll-up and some cole slaw with Rovey if I had to, but we trade off that for me doing chores 'cause he only lets me have enough walking around money to buy him his prescription socks and his monthly case of Feen-A-Mint), and there were a whole bunch of folks waiting outside risking chilblains just so they could let Rovey know how welcome he was! Some of them were a little loud and didn't smell very pretty (I got the impression that to join this "Sierra Club" street gang, part of the hazing involves not showering for the first month and eating a lot of library glue) but they seemed really, really excited to see Rovey, and it was really nice for them to come down from their treehouses and cooperative lesbian mung bean farms just to say hi.
But wowie zowie! The other bunch was dressed up so fancily with sparkly jewelry, pretty dresses, top hats and tuxedos. They said they were the Billionaires For Bush, and I was sort of intimidated 'cause I'm just a plain little RoveHo, so I fibbed a bit and told them my name was Miss Aureola Puffington of the Wisconsin Puffingtons, and that we were very prominent in dairy. Oh, how excited they were to see my Blubblenumpkins. They kept thanking Rovey for all he and his boss had done to benefit them and their friends, and had all sorts of exciting, helpful chants and signs about "Keep our country healthy - tax cuts for the wealthy!" and "Leave no billionaire behind!" and "Corporations are people, too!" I just thought it was so sweet that they took the time away from their spas and emu ranches and warm stretch Humvees to chat with Rovey about the needs of such a small and neglected minority, and letting Rovey know that the super hard presidenting work he and his boss are doing is not going unnoticed. They were even lovely enough to let me hold up a sign (see - there I am right behind my Babyboobum in the picture!) and let the whole world know what a darling little innocent lamb he is.
Sometimes, after I've watched five or six hours of hard-hitting Jerry Springer or Alton Brown news coverage, I can get a little blue about the frowny-face downturn the world is taking. Everybody is so "Me-Me-Me!", "MY baby needs daycare so I can go hog up three whole separate jobs!" and "What about MY dialysis and food stamps?" that it's nice to see folks taking the time to just stop and say, "Hey thanks, Rovey!". Gosh, I hope we see them when we come back in September for the GOP convention. They promised they'd look us up.
Plus - the New York Times thought the Billionaires were so kind to Rovey, they wrote a whole story about them. Wow, the media are such sweetiepies sometimes!
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