Literary lions P+J look forward — with every ounce of our all-consuming lust for the written word — to the imminent publication of books by two of the towering geniuses of our time. We refer, of course, to the upcoming memoirs of the worst president in American history, George "Dubya" Bush, and a tome by Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi of the TV hit for the brain-damaged (or anyone from Johnston), "Jersey Shore."
P+J understand that the delusional recollections of the pampered Daddy's little boy, male cheerleader, and war criminal wannabe Dubya will be published on a series of flashcards — the major tools of the author's profound education. We can't wait to read the fabrications about his life and service to country, no doubt all recounted in one-syllable words, although we are sure with some editing help he can expand that into the occasional two-syllable mindbender. Bring it on!
Meanwhile, Snooki — for whom the old adage, "you shouldn't write a book unless you have read one first" was seemingly invented — is penning not some cheap ghosted autobiography like Bushie, but rather a "novel." It will contain "big hair, dark tans and fights galore," according to her publisher. Sounds like you can count on more graphics than text. Sur-prahz, sur-prahz, Gomer!
Keep twirling in that grave, Papa Hemingway.
GOODBYE, MRS. CLEAVER
A pall at Casa Diablo at the death of Barbara Billingsley, mother of America's everyboy from 1957 through forever, Beaver Cleaver.
Husband Ward, Beaver's brother Wally, Eddie Haskell, Lumpy Rutherford, Larry Mondello, and Whitey Whitney are also in mourning for the woman who wore pearls while vacuuming the rug in the Cleavers' pristine suburban home. For years, Billingsley couldn't escape that typecast role. But then she busted out in the famed Airplane! movie by informing a confused stewardess dealing with a very ill black passenger, "I speak jive," leading to one of the greatest bits of comic repartee ever seen ("Chump doan want da he'p, chump doan get da he'p").
Thanks for the memories, Mrs. Cleaver. And unlike Eddie Haskell, we really mean it.
P+J'S POLITICAL PICKS
With the election looming, Phillipe and Jorge present our endorsements. You can clip 'n' save this and take it to the polls with you for easy reference, or fill it with some superior weed, roll it, and do it up as a blunt. Either is fine with us . . . so long as you do go vote! Everyone with a brain and conscience — the 'utes of today especially — can make a big difference in the governance of the state and whether or not we want to continue to be a paragon of unchained greed and insider deals: i.e., the "I know a guy" state.
GOVERNOR: LINC CHAFEE. The budget numbers are plain: there will be pain! That none of the other major candidates will acknowledge this nor give the slightest hint as to how they'll perform a budgetary miracle tells you all you need to know. We're only disappointed that Linc hasn't more definitively driven home the fact that his sales tax proposal is the least painful, fairest way to dole out the pain. Elect Frankie and prepare for a Pontius Pilate act where, once again, the state washes its hands of the problem, drops it onto the cities and towns and your property taxes go up. That there appear to be more skeletons in the Caprio family closet than the House on Haunted Hill (and don't make it Smith Hill) is another recent to vote for Linc.