A first lady, two stalkers and a pothead walk into a Korean restaurant....

True, the wicked witch of the west [or east] is gone. But in her wake, we can savor this tidbit about her marriage/business partnership:

"During the early Clinton years, political adviser Paul Begala, who had spent countless hours on the road with the couple during the 1992 campaign, told friends he had discovered the secret of their relationship: Both looked at each other in mystery at how the other person had married someone so undeserving."

In quasi-related political news, I trekked up to Memphis recently at the invitation of a friend who had taught at the same "University" [deliberate quotation marks] that I did when gathering my M.Ed. Said "University" was located in southern Poland, spread out over two campuses, one in Czestachowa and one in Gliwice. Serenly looked upon by myriad statues of Catholic figures (such as the Virgin Mary) and presided over by a crooked priest who tried to sell us on a really excellent tax evasion scheme, the "University" was endowed with a library that didn't allow books to be loaned out and an administration that had no idea what scheduling classes meant. Still, a good enough time was had by all, especially the young lady who called me at 4 AM one morn to confess her love for "teacher." Adorable in a certain psycho way. In a few years she may be fatal attraction material.

And speaking of fatal attraction, Glenn Close proved timeless when my former hometown's Congressman, Steven Ira Cohen [Yes. Really] compared Glenn's character to Hillary Clinton. I always adored how socially malfunctioning Steve was. When not showing his pot plants to reporters or comparing himself to black women on national tevee, Steve is always up for a Hillary as murderess analogy. That man rocks.

But not nearly as much as Korean food, which is one of the few (maybe only) foods to taste better outside of Korea. This was proven by my friend and I visiting a Korean restaurant on Mendenhall in southeast Memphis and lunging for tasty grub. I still refuse to eat kimchee unless it's been grilled, but the rest was outstanding. It's just that this stuff was way different in Korea because a) I had to eat it 3 times a day and b) Korea and health inspectors don't go together. (I refuse to elaborate).

The Memphis visit concluded with a trip to an excellent blues joint called Wild Bill's which is in North Memphis, exactly the kind of neighborhood where it should be. Anyhoo, good music, good grub. A fetching young lady, who only outweighted me by two hundred pounds or so, and had pupils the size of grapefruits wanted to get me on the dance floor [and in other places] but I was too flattered and terrified to move. Good thing too. Didn't we already discuss what happens with me on a dance floor?