Agga-New, New, New

But where did we get those excellent dry martinis that produced the photographic effects? Why, the lobby of the Fullerton Hotel, the biggest old boutique hotel we've ever been to. Featuring actual violinists playing from an alcove, just like in Coming To America, only real. It did have the fine cocktails, the high ceiings, and the gentle haze of tab smoke we always associate with a fancy joint. It was also full of check-shirted limey bankers sort of half looking to pick up local secretaries.

We have also been mighty amused by the Republicans' whole obedience to Tom DeLay thing. Standard Republican procedure was that it was bad for business if you were led by someone under felony indictment, so by and large you stepped down. But not in an age when felony indictments are apparently devious political manoeuvres, and stories of poor Texan businessmen being shaken down by The Hammer be damned. "We're not changing the rules because we like being led by a crook, or because we're all hopelessly in hock to his PAC. It's because we reeelly hate partisanship." Spiro T. Agnew must be weeping at the unfairness of it all.