Gabriel Schwartz And Instant Karma

I am generally not one to delight in the misfortunes of others.  But schadenfreude has never been more at home in my heart than in the story of Denver’s own Gabriel Schwartz.  The obnoxious, self-impressed, clueless lawyer did an interview on the floor of the Republican National Convention… I don’t want to just  dislike him for his worldview (although I do) – which mostly revolves around bombing and plundering Iran.  I also dislike him because he’s such an assface.  Think I’m being harsh?  Watch the interview and tell me you don’t want to beat him with a stick:

I’m not the only one who has issues with this guy.  The day after he gave that interview, he met a woman in the bar of his Minneapolis hotel and invited her to his room.  Once they got upstairs, the woman asked him to get undressed while she prepared him a drink.  That drink made Gabriel a very sleepy boy.  (Is there a bomb joke here?)

When Gabriel “Iran, baby” Schwartz woke up, the woman was gone, as was more than $120,000 in money, jewelry and other Schwartzy bling.  After that righteous plundering, Gabriel said;

as a single man, I was flattered by the attention of a beautiful woman who introduced herself to me. I used poor judgment.”

Poor judgment?  By the same Gabriel Schwartz I see in that interview?  No!

I can only assume she saw the interview, or had an equally maddening conversation with him in the bar that night.  Here’s what I wanna know: did she “plant a flag”?

LAPD Chief Bratton on the Paparazzi Issue

Chief Bratton, who feels the Paparazzi Task Force is a waste of time (I agree with him), just said on MSNBC:

“Since Britney started wearing clothes and behaving, Paris is out of town not bothering anybody anymore – thank God – and evidently Lindsay Lohan has gone gay, we don’t seem to have much of an issue.”

Hey, man, don’t blame me for Linsday – I tried.

Belated RIP to George Carlin

Carlin was inspirational to me, in some ways, as a teen.  He had a biting wit and was more a social commentator than comedian.  I saw him live a couple of times – once at the University of Maine where he autographed a dollar bill for me.  The fact that it took me several months to spend that money was as much about my respect for him as my flat-broke-ness.

One of my favorite Carlin rants is here – Carlin on Politicians – and I’ll miss that penetrating side of him.  He could make us laugh so hard that our guts hurt, and not always because what he said was funny, exactly – but because it was so sadly true.  In his later years, I was sad to see him move more toward aimless anger and jokes about death and poop, but I suppose that’s how things go.

He died at Saint John’s in Santa Monica – just a mile or two from my place –  at the age of 71.