OK, so maybe Fleetwood Mac weren’t so rockin’. But Clinton did have groupies, which is more than I could say for William Tizzaft.
Senior year of college, my housemate John pulls me aside and whispers, “If you have any drugs or guns around, hide them. The Secret Service are coming to our house today.” Wha? Sure enough, that evening conspicuous black vans pull up at both sides of College Ave and guys in suits are hiding out in the bushes. Then I’m chilling on our disgusting porch with John and his friend Chelsea Clinton. I offered First Daughter a beer but she “wasn’t allowed.” Anyway, that’s my Clinton story. Good thing I hid all my guns.
Bill is appearing at B&N Rock Center today at 12:30. It’s sure to be a madhouse. Bush and Zombie Reagan wish they had that kind of buzz. Put “Dreams” on your iPod and try to get a book signed. If you’re like me you can’t listen to that song without thinking about burritos.