Sanford's Presser: Instant Classic
Mark Sanford's press conference. Did you watch that performance? Wow. He just... he just kept going. How did it compare to some classic political meltdowns of the past? Favorably! He was 24 minutes late to the podium and then he rambled, just straight-up rambled, apologizing to literally everyone he's ever met, talking about dinosaur sheets and "Adventure Trips," becoming tearful, and wasting a full ten minutes of rambling before finally admitted to cheating on his wife. He cheated on his wife for a year with some friend from Argentina, and his wife has known for five months, and the affair just continued, while he worked on his marriage, and it was not until he disappeared on Fathers' Day (to spend "five days of my life crying") and the media caught wind that something might be up here that he decided it was time to apologize to his family and maybe stop the affair. It was a bravura live political meltdown. Though it was dissimilar in tone, it was a cousin to Blago's classic presser. Not the first one, with the poetry, but the classic Friday afternoon performance about the children with cancer. Or maybe the one about cowboys? But while Blago filibusters and mugs and grins, Sanford just bared way, way too much of his soul. It blew away Spitzer's one minute apology—He took questions! His wife was at home!—and Clinton's initial denial and eventual apology were, in comparison, boring. It was Terrell Owens-esque, actually. Sure, he could've blamed outside forces, like when Mark Foley's attorney blamed booze and priests. But no. He had no excuses. That made any sense. It was reminiscent, especially with the wife's glaring absence, of the pre-9/11 Rudy Giuliani classic, "I am telling the press about my separation from my wife before I tell my wife." Sanford didn't have a single sound bite as classic as Nixon's "last press conference" (well, maybe "the biggest self of self is indeed self"), but it will provide us with many days of joy, until Tim Pawlenty's "I am addicted to meth" conference next month. Sanford's instant classic in full: MORE >>
Help Make a Young Man's Megan Fox Fantasies Come True
Have you heard the tragic tale of the Boy With the Yellow Rose, the teen who was swatted away by Megan Fox as he tried to hand her a flower? Well now the hunt is on to find the lad. The backstory: Megan Fox, the shapely Transformers star and current objet d'onanism for straight males everywhere, was leaving that film's London premiere when a portly and hopeful young lad—eyes gleaming with wonder, palms hairy in adoration—desperately offered her a single yellow rose to show his undying affection (though, son, a yellow rose means friendship, not love, so...) Well, Ms. Fox was so blinded and overwhelmed by the crush of paparazzi and well-wishers that she cruelly ignored him, as captured indelibly at left. The sad picture made the rounds and Fox was criticized for being callous and cruel to the wants of a child. She's since apologized to the boy on tape, and says she'll personally apologize to him if she finds out his name. A personal apology from Megan Fox? Better bring a change of pants, boy-o! Now a kindly major international corporation called Kodak (they make portraiture devices) has intervened and offered REWARD MONEY for the identity of the would-be swain: Kodak will offer $5,000 to the first person who can provide verifiable information that enables Kodak to make this connection happen. Kodak will also cover travel costs for the young man and his family to help allow destiny to take its course, and provide cameras for him to capture the moment. Please send us an email at yellowroseboy@gmail.com [oh, and cc tips@gawker.com, though we won't pay you] if you have any information or can help turn the rose boy's dreams into reality. You guys!!! Find hiiiiiim! Photo via WENN MORE >>
Mark Sanford: A Very Strange Man
Gov. Mark Sanford, whose surreptitious international wanderings—and possible affair!— have captured the nation's attention, is a deeply strange man. He's so cheap he built his dad's coffin, and digs holes to relax. Here's a rundown. UPDATE: Sanford has been cheating on his wife and was with his mistress in Buenos Aires, a blogger reports. Oh, well, it's just some blogger, right? Nope. It's Sanford's former spokesman, who runs a South Carolina political blog. First, the hole-digging: According to this American Conservative profile, an 8-year-old girl wandered onto Sanford's property in Lady's Island, S.C., and died. How, exactly, isn't clear, but Sanford paid her family around $300,000 in a settlement. She may have fallen into one of the holes Sanford dug on his property to clear his mind: During Sanford's first gubernatorial campaign in 2002, an 8-year-old African-American girl wandered onto a Sanford family property on Lady's Island and drowned. A source close to the governor said she fell into a "retaining pond." Her family's lawyer, Manning Smith, called it a "pit." Other sources claim that Sanford, who owned a hydraulic excavator at the time, digs holes on his property to unwind. Sanford's spokesman, Joel Sawyer, told TAC at the time that it "was a tragic accident, and Governor Sanford did everything he could to do right by the family involved." Second, how cheap is Mark Sanford? This cheap: "During his six years on Capitol Hill, he slept on a futon in his office, even though he's a millionaire who easily could have afforded a small apartment," says the National Review. "Then there's the one about Sanford's going to the movies with a couple of his fellow congressmen. He offered to buy them drinks at the concession stand—and came back to their seats with a big cup of Coke and three straws." When his father died, TAC reports, "the Sanford family buried him under a pair of oak trees overlooking a river, according to his wishes. Mark built the casket." Sanford refuses to turn on the air conditioner in the governor's mansion in South Carolina, where it is always oppressively hot and muggy. His wife must love him. And finally, from his former spokesman, Will Folks: "He'd pick up change from the street during an event. If he found an index card in the garbage and saw that only one side of it had been used, he would explain to the staffer,'This is how campaigns are lost'," Folks says. Employees were sent to return supplies Sanford deemed too expensive or reimburse the campaign for their mistake. Even today, Sanford gets his hair cut at Supercuts-and brings a coupon. Does this sound like the type of guy who would buy a last-minute plane ticket to Buenos Aires just for "exotic" kicks? Also, Sanford's wife Jenny, who kicked off this whole mess by acknowledging to reporters that she had no idea where her husband was or what he was doing, and yesterday added that she's just "being a mom" and still hadn't heard from him, is no... MORE >>
NYC Prep: You Don't Know How It Feels to Be Me
Well, great TV spirits be thanked/damned, it finally arrived. NYC Prep! The show about Real Life rich kids who are real life Girls who sometimes Gossip. Even the two boys, Sebastian and PC, are Girls. Who Gossip. Let's talk. It's hard to recap a first episode, because we're just meeting all the youngsters—getting to know their peculiar BO stink, the weird way their tight little faces try to make facial expressions, their cockly eyes, their billowing girl-magnet manes. One thing we can be certain of, one constant like the Pole Star, is that teenagers fucking suck. Teenagers are horrible creatures whom nobody likes and who like nobody. Well, OK, that's not exactly true. Teenagers like each other in fits and starts, sweaty lusting and sad desperate clawing towards one another, the kind of thing that makes you glad that, even though you are feeling old and cancerous and haven't left the house for two days, you escaped that age. That you busted out and figured out other people at least somewhat, at least halfway, and so nothing is as fraught as it once was. Nothing is as exciting, either, but that's the compromise of growing up. Anyway. We met these kids in media res. PC the urban dandy and his trusty and loveless assistant Jessi met to discuss things like boys and girls and dating and loving each other. This was supposed to establish their rapport as friendly but sharp, with PC as the witty-but-mean dilettante and Jessi as the hardened New York fashion lover with a tiny pinhole prick in her heart for this dark, caustic Oscar Wilde. But mostly we saw a young boy trying very, very hard. Every little cock of the head and withering smile so practiced and childish, his face and limbs still lanky with baby fat, everything squirming in those trussed-up fashion garments. And Jessi was just sad for PC, sad in love, sad in loss. She looked at him as best she could and she knew he was gone, but it didn't matter, dear Diary. It will never matter, never ever. She'll always keep chasing. The pair discussed going to some sort of fashion-art event and they both agreed it would be good to be there, to network as 18-year-olds, to make a go of it. Deep inside Jessi thought And to kiss! To hug and kiss and let the rest of the world fall away! Oh, just once! But she buried it down and talked to the camera about fashion. It is very important to her. Clothes are like her children. And, in the future, her children will be like clothes: boring after a few years. Anyway, let's leave them in their leather banquette corner for a bit. Over to Kelli and Camille, two best bitchy friends who never know what the hell they're talking about. Camille is the glass-eyed go-getter, a girl as driven-yet-purposeless as any of those lonely Tracy Flicks you knew in your high school. Right now the plan is Harvard, then Genetics (right?), then at 40, kids and a hubby. As if nothing gets in the way! I bet it'll be Middlebury, maybe, and she'll study drama, and then she'll bounce around... MORE >>
Apparently You Are Allowed to Say 'Pearl Necklace' on MSNBC
Joe Scarborough's genial sausage-and-Starbucks-fest Morning Joe took on even more of a frat-dude vibe this morning as all the guys snickered about a "pearl necklace" while the lone lady, Mika Brzezinski was left wondering what was so funny. Poor, Mika. See all the dudes were just yukkin' it up about White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs sporting a man earring in an old high school yearbook photo. A couple of the other beer-warmed and bloated college buds copped to wearing earrings in their salad days too. So, of course, crazy Mike Barnicle thought this was all hilarious and asked if they wore a "pearl necklace," too. All the boys laughed while poor Mika just didn't get it. So she kept saying "What? What?" like she was standing by the door of the house, clutching her little purse, wondering why every time she came to visit her boyfriend all his brothers were snickering about something. Sad. Though, at least she didn't try to set the place on fire again. MORE >>
Where in the World Was Gov. Mark Sanford? Argentina, Of Course
Mark Sanford wasn't nude-hiking the Appalachian Trail. He was chilling in Argentina. He's just a regular-folks governor who jets to Buenos Aires for a week without telling his wife, abandoning his kids on Father's Day while his staff lies preposterously. South Carolina's The State caught Sanford arriving at Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport this morning: Sanford, in an exclusive interview with The State, said he decided at the last minute to go to the South American country to recharge after a difficult legislative session in which he battled with lawmakers over how to spend federal stimulus money. Asked why his staff said he was hiking the Appalachian Trail, Sanford gave two different answers: 1) I have no idea, and 2) Because I told them I was going to hike the Appalachian Trail. When asked why his staff said he was on the Appalachian Trail, Sanford replied, "I don't know." Sanford later said "in fairness to his staff," he had told them he might go hiking on the Appalachian Trial. One thing we know for sure about Sanford is that he hires idiots. His spokesman Joel Sawyer told The State yesterday that Sanford had spoken with his office, and continued to maintain that he was hiking. These are obvious lies—if Sanford checked in, then they would have known he was in Argentina, and if they knew he was in Argentina, then they knew he wasn't hiking—and it was entirely predictable that they would be revealed as such when Sanford returned. You can smell the panic. Did they not think that reporters would be staking out the Atlanta airport? The State says Sanford returned a day earlier than planned, which would suggest that he had been in contact with his office at some point and been called home. The newspaper also said that he was originally supposed to fly into Columbia, S.C., but arrived in Atlanta after bumping up his return by a day. This is of interest because CNN reported finding his car in the Columbia airport parking lot last night, and a local television station reported finding another of the governor's security-detail SUV's in the Atlanta airport parking lot yesterday. Why would there be cars at both airports? Given the circumstances, it wouldn't be out of order to speculate wildly: Did the governor's staff plant a car at Columbia's airport to make the Appalachian Trail story appear more likely? After all, it makes little sense that he would drive to Atlanta, about 80 miles from the trail, and then fly to another point on the trail. It does make sense that he would fly from Columbia to Atlanta and then go hiking. So did a panicked staffer, after seeing the report of the governor's car in Atlanta, plant another one in Columbia and leak it to CNN? Who knows. Sanford also said he was alone on the trip, which no one believes. MORE >>
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