You mess with Harpo Marx, you get the horns.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Driving Ms. Huffington: or, the evils of muscadine wine.

It was recently reported in the blogosphere (I’ve always wanted to use that word) that the maven of environmental snobbery and SUV detractor Arianna Huffington was seen leaving a Sierra Club meeting in a Suburban. Not that this was shocking to anyone here at DOUI we did still find it strange that she would do such a thing in broad daylight. Taking it upon ourselves to solve the mystery, we had the photos enhanced and discovered the answer to the question and can exonerate Ms. Huffington. Under electron microscope we were able to determine the driver of the vehicle was none other than our old friend Lukas P. Short, you can’t miss his trademark Stetson. It seems that Lukas has opened up another business, a limousine service to the stars and lesser personalities in the greater San Francisco area.

I called Lukas and in regard to the situation with Huffington he admitted that the Sierra Club had requested a hybrid only and that is what he provided. Seems the SUV in question was converted to run on Lukas new fuel Grassoline which as you may or may not remember is a mixture of cattle manure and bourbon. Lukas told me that he has a hidden microphone to record all the conversations of his drivers for legal purposes and has sent me the tape. When Ms. Huffington arrived all of Luke’s drivers were on calls so he took this one himself.

[Static]

Lukas: Testin’ one, two, three. Time is 4:45, making a pick-up at the Sierra Club. Must be a group of Alfonso Bedoya fans.

Arianna: Thank you darlings, bye bye. What is this, an SUV… where is the Prius I ordered. Stan, it’s your ass if anyone sees me in this! (crosstalk) Whatever, YOU… DRIVER just get me to the airport, that private jet is burning fuel.

Lukas: Howdy ma’am. Any bags?

Arianna: No, other than my Gucci. (Lukas starts driving) How can you drive this behemoth? Don’t you know how much gas you’re wasting?

Lukas: Well little lady, this particular machine is running on a little invention of mine called Grassoline. It’s a powerful concoction of cowpie and red-eye.

Arianna: What is that smell?

Lukas: Well, I topped her off before I left so she might be a peck wiffy. Jerky?

Arianna: What?

Lukas: I got a bag of muskrat jerky and some muscadine wine up here. Don’t be shy, sidle up here and grab ya some.

Arianna: No Moet or foie gras?

Lukas: No spreche espanol little lady.

Arianna: Just give me some of the wine, I need anything after meeting with those hypocritical, pain in the ass metro-sexuals.

Lukas: Here take the whole bottle.

Arianna: These seats are pretty comfortable, what are they made of.

Lukas: Gopher pelts, I thought about faux marmot fur but didn’t want to get too ritzy.

Arianna: What’s your name cowboy?

Lukas: Lukas P. Short, but my friends call me Luke.

Arianna: Can I be your friend Luke?

Lukas: You’re not trying to seduce me, are you Miss Huffington?

Arianna: Do you want me to?

At this point Arianna’s speech became too slurred to understand but Lukas told me he was a perfect gentleman and poured her into the plane when he got to the airport.

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