- $1000 in Fun Bucks at the Star Trek Experience in Vegas
- a personal trainer to get his sorry ass in shape so he can go and fight in Iraq like he really wants to
- a giant mousetrap and some rocket boots so he can finally put into action his brilliant plan to catch Osama bin-Laden
- a fun smiley-face mask with a Hitler mustache on it to wear at NRO's annual Halloween party
- a toothbrush, to clean all the shit out of his mouth
How about you, dear Clown Central Station porters, vendors, and shoeshine gals? What would you get Jonah Goldberg for his birthday?
*: For example, today, he gives us the gift of some snappy patter he's been perfecting on weekends at SCA swordfighting practice:
Damnable Twin Cities! We have been confounded by thy diabolically dual nature! Not knowing anything about where I am, when I talked to Scott Johnson yesterday, I told him I was staying at the City Center hotel, leaving out the crucial detail that I was in St. Paul. He thought I was in Minneapolis because that's where my speech was. But, again, I was not. He went to a different hotel in a different city to meet me this morning, and — fie on the ontological constraints of the space-time continuum — I was not there because I was here. So, now I'm waiting for him to come get me and take me straight to the airport, all because the cheddar-suckling Romulus and Remus of Midwestern cosmopoli have conspired to keep thy humble correspondent from meeting the Nordic blogmaster of the Great Northern Middle Kingdom.
2 comments:
Better a cheddar-suckling Romulus and Remus than a Twinkie-suckling homunculus.
Also, the City Center Hotel is one of the grimiest, shitholish-looking buildings in all of Downtown St. Paul. Apparently the Radisson and the St. Paul Hotel wouldn't have him.
Also also, I am imagining Scott Johnson wandering around City Center in Minneapolis (as popularized nationwide by the Hold Steady -- i.e. "City Center's over/no one really goes there"), stumbling out onto Hennepin in total bafflement, and finding himself attempting to locate the nearest actual hotel in the vicinity -- which, assuming he steers clear of the "clear criminal element" on Block E -- would be the Hotel Amsterdam.
So, even when the doughy one is joking-ish, he still writes badly?
How'd this guy get a book deal?
Oh. Wait. Never mind.
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