Mort!

! Gotta love those campaign ads! With lies, distortions and outright fabrications like this on regular TV, who needs Fox News?

My fave so far is the commercial where the CGI-rendered President Bush dives into the collapsing World Trade Center and emerges carrying no less than a dozen people stacked on the formidable, all-too-presidential biceps bulging from his fashionably ripped shirtsleeves--and on the way out of the smoking rubble, stops to amend the U.S. Constitution to ban same-sex marriage! Wow! And then there's the Kerry ad depicting his hardscrabble life as the son of a poor Latvian immigrant farmer, and how he dutifully read Alexis de Tocqueville late at night by the fireplace after a long day of baling alfalfa. Thumbs up! Not that I'm a huge fan of irresponsible, vitriolic, brain-melting propaganda, but boy do they ever do wonders for my allergy-addled sinuses. Goodbye Claritin, hello mudslinging!

Of course, your intrepid gossiphound has been doing much more than sitting in front of the TV all week, stubble-chinned and in a soiled bathrobe--who do you think I am, Joan Rivers between awards shows? We all know the signs that hail March: blooming flowers, longer days and green vomit that was, about two hours earlier, green beer. Yessir, Mortimer O'Larp took his wee bottom to this weekend's St. Patrick's Day parade downtown and partook of those curious Irish festivities that involve wanton drunkenness and acts of public indecency--ah, heck, why don't we just call it Pretend You're the Mayor Day?

Spotted at the party: Martha Stewart, Diana Ross and Whitney Houston (er, that was when the parade passed all the bail bonds places on North Main Street) and Jayson Blair (at least I think it was him hiding behind that giant race card); Richard Ziser was also marching, and in his green knickers and buckle shoes--how else do I say it?--looked totally gay. Otherwise, the beer was flowing, the party was jumping, people were having fun--which is why the FCC showed up and shut the whole thing down. And I didn't even get a chance to rip off Bob Beers' bra during our choreographed dance routine!

Oh well. In other news, spring is unofficially here--yeah, Karl Rove emerged from his creepy subterranean lair (only with the help of a fishing rod and Krispy Kreme) but didn't see his shadow--and you know what that means: another season of "Girls Gone Wild"! As for me, I just can't wait till it's warm enough to take a nice swim. Got my swim trunks, my sunscreen, my towels--now all I need is Water Queen Pat Mulroy's permission to use my own damn pool. Ciao!