![]() Good morning and welcome to the very special, extra-rare, never before seen, weekend edition of CCB. Why am I doing this, you ask? Well, the answer is easy, my friends – the California primaries are shaping up to be exactly what everyone expects…the end of civilization as we know it! We’ve pretty well settled into our massive three-bedroom suite here at the Beverly Hilton. We’re two floor below The Trump’s party, which is probably a good thing. Last night we had pro-Clinton supporters here in the suite. At one count there were more than 300 people in here. They were loud and boisterous. We had the televisions turned to the news channels and every time The Trump showed up on the screen, the pro-Clintons would boo and hiss and carry on. In fact, there were a couple of guys who showed up in dark suits and sun glasses looking over the crowd. I figured they were Secret Service types from The Trump floor. Speaking of which, Cousin Fred tried to sneak up to The Trump’s floor in order to see Gigi the other day. After a grilling as to who he was and why he was there…oh, and the strip search with accompanying body cavity inspection…they finally threw him off the floor and told him he would be shot on sight if he reappears. We had hoped that Gigi would be able to get a photo of The Trump’s gourd at its most vulnerable, with whatever that is on his head not on his head. Gigi told Cousin Fred that the paranoia has become such that The Trump now insists that everyone in the room when Gigi is working on his dead cat has to be naked so no one can conceal a camera. Reportedly, The Trump himself is naked too…he reportedly says he doesn’t trust himself. But, I digress…as I said, I figured the two were Secret Service types. As it turns out, they were scouts from The Curmudgeon’s campaign who were there to make their case for Super Delegates. But, the Queen of the Unindicted’s supporters weren’t having much of it. In fact, the drinking had probably gone much too far for anyone to hear anything. The two scouts finally sat down in a corner, looking sullen. I felt kind of bad for them, so we’re hosting a brunch this morning in honor of The Curmudgeon. That should be interesting, particularly since he made a speech here in L.A. on Saturday declaring that the Democratic National Convention would be a contested convention. This on the day before the Queen of the Unindicted is likely to “clinch” the nomination after the primary in Puerto Rico is held on Sunday. It’s all about the Super Delegates he claims. Perhaps the only thing that should be clinching is the Clinton campaign’s collective sphincter…this thing is far from over! The highlight of the events last night was when Clinton the 1st himself showed up. Her Majesty was up state somewhere (on the run from process servers, maybe?) and she left Mr. Bill alone in SoCal. Go figure. He kept wading through the crowd doing his best Curly (Three Stooges) impersonation say, “Loik at the goils, loik at the goils.” Very un-ex-presidential of him, I suppose, but it lifted the spirits in the room. Okay, actually everyone was far too wasted to even really care. At some point during the night, Clinton the 1st disappeared from the room. Maybe he found a goil…who knows. I was able to get some great quotes from him about how The Curmudgeon should really go home and give it up. Soon thereafter he began asking the females present if they wanted to see his heart by-pass surgery scars – one of which he claims "looks just like Prince." Like I said, it was a wild night. There are still a few people hanging on here in the suite. Guess I need to start working them toward the door so we can get the suite cleaned up for The Curmudgeonly brunch later this morning. Even if the nod goes to the Queen of the Unindicted in Puerto Rico later today, it’s no done deal. The Curmudgeon is making that well known. In fact, he’ll tell that to anyone who will stand still long enough to listen. Good for him, I say. Polls show The Curmudgeon and the Queen of the Unindicted in a dead heat here in the California primary. Anything can happen between now and the Democratic convention, folks. Pack your lunch and bring a flashlight. We’re going to be here for a while! Oh, by the way, The Trumpers will be in suite tonight for their reception and get together. As you may recall, when we did the same thing in Indianapolis, The Trump himself showed up. Okay, he actually just had a bowel movement in the powder room, but he was there! To her credit, Brooklynn, our minder, has been nothing but smiles as she signs the tickets for all of the room charges, which are racking up quickly. So far, she seems impressed that we were able to get, at least, Clinton the 1st inside the suite last night and conduct an interview. Life goes on here in the Golden State! More tomorrow morning. Comments are closed.
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