The interwebs have been both agog and abuzz aboutMitt Romney’s fundraising exploits on the Hamptons. One of Romney’s supporters got impatient waiting in line and enunciated the post title.
A woman in a blue chiffon dress poked her head out of a black Range Rover here on Sunday afternoon and yelled to an aide toMitt Romney. “Is there a V.I.P. entrance? We are V.I.P.”
Joan Walsh had some fun with the “We are V.I.P” thing by pointing out that it could work to the tune ofWe Are Family the old Sister Sledge hit that was the unofficial anthem for the 1979 World Champion Pittsburgh Pirates. Yes, Virginia, Pittsburgh used to have a good beisbol team. Of course, that family was so extended that coke dealers joined in the good times and the team collapsed the very next season. Now where was I? Oh yeah, Mitt’s peers.
One would think that after all the bad pub Mitt Offshore has gotten for being a snooty, clueless, dressage loving plutocrat, his handlers would figure out how to stage an event such as this. His fellow second-generation plutocrat, Ronald Perelman, should have held the fundraiser in Manhattan at a fancy schmancy hotel instead; that way the donors would have arrived in discreet black limos instead of Ferraris, Bentleys and the like. I, however, am glad that they did not. We all need comic relief and plutocrats on the Hamptons are *always* funny. And the anti-Mitt protesters were even funnier but they intended to be funny. Hmm, I wonder if there were any nail ladies among them?
So, jump into your private jet and watch Rachel Maddow’s brilliant piece about Mitt doing the full Thurston. Howell, that is: