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Trying to find Mr. Right… is a fool’s errand. (A novelist phrased it more candidly: Looking for Mr. Goodbar.) As soon seek a diamond, in a field of wheat. But the wheat itself, each ear -- the wheat is good.
“Thou’st made an ill trade, Tommy my lad. A goose is a good, is a very good thing. But no Christian has ever discovered a use for pearls.
For some time now, in these essays and elsewhere, whenever the occasion required a metonymy or metaphor to signify ‘The World’s Worst Human Being’, I have been writing -- in all innocence, and without malice aforethought -- "Donald Trump".
I must here explain for the ladies, who would otherwise scarcely understand, that failure of one’s lawnmower to start, is humiliating for a man.
The forces of Sarkozy -- ahem, of Ouattara -- have taken Abidjan, and Democracy can breath a sigh of relief.
“Never before have I achieved such a mortgage with a man,” breathed the buxxxom American icon, breathily.