Last weekend: Boston. Gorgeous spring weather, crispy-cool, great food. My god, the food. Papa-razzi for wonderful Italian food, Legal Seafood for, duh, seafood, and a Thai place I cannot recall the name of. Our fearless leader introduced me to the best Chardonnay ever, made by Cakebread. Lovely stuff. I may never be able to drink another Chardonnay again.
I spent Saturday afternoon at the Boston MFA, a fine institution with some excellent American art and a large terrible Gilbert Stuart painting of a horse's ass:
And when I say "horse's ass" I mean that literally, as you see. The picture is hung so the horse's ass is eye-level, right next to the Presidential Camel Toe, also eye-level. All of which is damn near life-size, so it's a real freakin' eyeful, I tell ya what. It's most unfortunate and really inexplicable. Fortunately the MFA holds many other much more enjoyable things to counterbalance the Early American Horse's Ass.
Russiagate, the timeline.
7 hours ago