Oh Gag Me With A Spoon
Since this is from the Washington Post, I can’t tell if they are serious in this barf-inducing profile or not; but I fear they actually admire this creature and what she represents
The chairman beams.
So many people just dying to see him, the business guys, the pols, the lobbyists — lots and lots of lobbyists. They circle Charlie Rangel — birthday boy, Democrat and, of course, House Ways and Means chairman — circles like rings on a tree planted in the party room here at Tavern on the Green. Simple math: the more powerful the pol, the more rings on the tree. This is a very thick tree.
Not a problem, though, for Heather Podesta.
“It’s like doing the tango!” she says, all smiles yet all business.
The lobbyist tango: She glides right in her red D&G heels and her periwinkle stockings, cutting through the outer rings with a smile here, a kiss-kiss there, a “Great to see you!” or two. Some guy yells out: “The most beautiful woman in the world!” She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t linger. She wriggles left, gets blocked, reverses direction, gets blocked again, reverses direction again. She’s in.
“Great party!” Podesta tells the chairman.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Rangel gushes back.
The chairman pecks the lobbyist’s cheek, and they’re done. Thirty seconds of face time. Mission accomplished.
“Doesn’t get any better than that,” Podesta says, amused by the surreal nature of the ritual she has mastered. “A kiss from the chairman.”
Yes, here’s how the Change You Can Believe In plays out in the fetid swamp on the Potomac.
Media, People, Politics | Mr. Bingley | 
August 25, 2009 6:39 am
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I gagged, and I didn’t even need a spoon.
“The chairman sighs.
So many people just dying to see him, the business guys, the pols, the lobbyists — lots and lots of lobbyists. They circle Charlie Rangel — birthday boy, Democrat and, of course, House Ways and Means chairman — circles like rings of sharks around a swimmer in the party room here at Tavern on the Green. Simple math: the more powerful the pol, the more sharks are circling.
Not a problem, though, for Heather Podesta.
“It’s like doing the tango!” she says, all smiles yet all business.
The lobbyist tango: She slithers right in her mismatched red D&G heels and her periwinkle stockings, slipping through the outer rings with a smile here, a kiss-kiss there, a “Great to see you!” or two. Some guy yells out: “The most dangerous woman in the world!” She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t linger. She wriggles left, gets blocked, reverses direction, gets blocked again, reverses direction again. She’s in, a moray eel among the big fish.
“Great party!” Podesta tells the chairman.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Rangel mutters back.
The chairman pecks the lobbyist’s cheek, and they’re done. Thirty seconds of face time. Mission accomplished.
“Doesn’t get any better than that,” Podesta says, amused by the surreal nature of the ritual she has mastered. “A kiss from the chairman.””
And THAT is how the story would run if Podesta was lobbying for the NRA. Or if McCain were president.
Whenever you read about “federal funds” contributing to some local project remember this story. The only reason that money was sent to Washington in the first place was so a politician like Rangel could get his ass kissed in order to send it back.
I give Heather Podesta about a year to be indicted for something. She is the Dems’ Abramoff.