Never mind the tawdry story of yet another politician caught in yet another lie about yet another affair, and continuing to lie even as he prostrates himself over the first lie (It's not my baby! That's just sleazy tabloid trash -- how could possibly believe it?) The scary thing is the type of woman a major politician would find sexy:
The first time I laid eyes on Rielle Hunter, I could tell she was a story. She had frizzy blond hair with DARK roots, wore bright nail polish and moved like someone who knew how to work a room.
[. . .]
I struck up a conversation with the woman at the next event, as we waited outside. She told me her name and asked me what my astrological sign was, which I thought was a little unusual. I told her. She smiled, and began telling me her life story: how she was working as a documentary-film maker, living with a friend in South Orange, N.J., but how she'd previously had "many lives." She'd worked, she said, as an actress and as a spiritual adviser. She was fiercely devoted to astrology and New Age spirituality. She'd been a New York party girl, she'd been married and divorced, she'd been a seeker and a teacher and was a firm believer in the power of truth.
[. . .]
I would soon learn that there was no such thing as small talk with Rielle Hunter. She told me that she'd felt a connection to me when we'd first met, that she could tell I was a very old soul. This meant a lot to Rielle. Her speech was peppered with New Age jargon—human beings were dragged down by "blockages" to their actual potential; history was the story of souls entering and escaping our field of consciousness. A seminal book for her had been Eckhart Tolle's "The Power of Now." Her purpose on this Earth, she said, was to help raise awareness about all this, to help the unenlightened become better reflections of their true, repressed selves.
To think that this woman could have ended up being First Mistress. And Edwards probably at
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Like I said before, ...
She told me her name and asked me what my astrological sign was, which I thought was a little unusual.
Sex must be geographical.
Seems like where I lived in the 1980s, every third woman I ran into told me her name and asked me what sign I was. That includes meter maids, people in line at the supermarket, nurses, lawyers, nuns, cashiers at fast food restaurants, and real estate saleswomen.
Come to think of it, they mostly were blondes with dark roots, too, and they usually wanted to jump my bones. I don't really any named Rielle, though.
Makes the whole Monica thing seem so innocent by comparison
"I am and have been willing to take any test necessary to establish the fact that I am not the father of any baby, and I am truly hopeful that a test will be done so this fact can be definitively established," Edwards said.
Translation: "Heh, you want me to say that I am willing to take a paternity test, but Rielle and I have a paid-for agreement where she will refuse. Why are you bothering me anyway? You would think that I was a Republican who had played footsie with a cop in the Twin Cities airport."