Hot, flat, and dickish

Fosco always suspected that self-involved neoliberal know-it-all Thomas Friedman was kind of a dick. Now we have proof! From his most recent NYTimes column:

I go into restaurants these days, look around at the tables often still crowded with young people, and I have this urge to go from table to table and say: “You don’t know me, but I have to tell you that you shouldn’t be here. You should be saving your money. You should be home eating tuna fish. This financial crisis is so far from over. We are just at the end of the beginning. Please, wrap up that steak in a doggy bag and go home.”

Yeah right, like Thomas Friedman would ever say "you don't know me" to anyone. More likely he starts off with "you may remember me from such awards as the Pulitzer Prize and such best-selling books as Globalization Orgasm!."

Of course, Friedman can still eat at restaurants--he's got all that money from mustache rides.

Count Fosco Salutes...

Another Sunday with no Dan Harper column. But you know who might cheer you up? A gentleman named Michael Attree. He loves the ladies and he loves his facial hair. And he is apparently some kind of Edwardian supervillain.

How much do moustache rides cost in the UK?

I don't know why this guy makes me feel so happy. But he does.

[N.B.: check out the thrillingly-moustachioed aviator in this post by Fosco's new blogopal kungfuramone. I like what's happening in the world.]