Obama, Biden, Boehner and Kasich to match syrupy sweet swings Saturday in a golf match that will determine the future of the Republic

They supposedly will lash lasers from the tee, strike iron shots with majestic trajectory and pristine precision, and putt like highwaymen.

Nah, I’m not talking about the U.S. Open golfers in the Washington suburbs, where Rory McIlroy is steamrolling over the field like the Democrats and Republicans would like to steamroll over each other.

For you sports fans out there, McIllroy set the record for the best 36-hole score in the 111-year history of the U.S. Open today with a 5-under-par 66 and sits at a startling 11-under 131 despite a double bogey to close his day.

Man, does anybody remember ol’ Tiger what’s-his-name?

But I digress.

The most consequential round of golf in the D.C. area Saturday will involve a foursome of President Barack Obama, Vice President Joe Biden, Speaker of the House John Boehner and Ohio Gov. John Kasich.

The match, at an undisclosed location, is being viewed by Washington insiders as holding the key to vital policy issues such as the national debt and a smooth, slow backswing.

Nothing spices a sport like a fierce, unrelenting rivalry, so this golf match should deliver excruciating and mesmerizing theater. And if the genie of golf were to grant us one wish, Obama and Boehner would arrive at the 18th hole dead even.

Talk about hysteria among the whispering pines.

You can't say there's no quit in this Weiner

Anthony Weiner had about as much of a chance of winning this fight as he did a steel-cage Texas death match.

After all, the assault on the New York Democratic lawmaker after he and his penis busted into the limelight made the attack on Pearl Harbor sound like woodwinds.

Man, how long can a guy walk on the lumps of shrapnel bursting around him?

Granted, it was Weiner’s uproarious appetite for self-destruction that smacked him down into the trough and had eyes and tongues fluttering everywhere.

So this afternoon Weiner admitted that he has been skewered beyond recognition and resigned from Congress.

The howl of the wolf turned into the bleat of the lamb.

Nobody but sleazy John Edwards smiles in a mug shot

Mug shots are coyote ugly. The faces generally look worse than Shamu’s uncle. Scary enough to curl an executioner’s toes.

But not if you’re pretty boy John Edwards.

The dude is facing six counts of grand jury indictments for conspiracy and violating campaign contribution laws for allegedly using campaign donations to support his mistress.

Nevertheless Edwards’ smile is as bright as radish red in his mug shot.

Talk about a crazed egomaniac!

While Jon Huntsman wants us to all hold our breath for a week over an announcement he already made today, Michele Bachmann proves she's the ideal presidential candidate for the 19th century

The sweet semantics of it all.

Former Utah governor and former ambassador to China Jon Huntsman declared today he’ll announce his candidacy for president against his old boss “a week from today.”

Excuse me, but didn’t he just do that today?

Actually, I’m no media dummy even if I am a blogger. Two announcements double your media exposure, of course.

Huntsman in the hunt squared!

However, Huntsman may be a day late jumping in, even if it’s just a prelude to the actual jump.

Because Michelle Bachmann already could be the skyrocketing GOP star after basically stealing the show at last night’s debate.

The lady is charming, charismatic, blunt and definitely easier on the eyes than Newt Gingrich. Bachmann turned her opponents into fried race as she announced her bid and passionately defended the Tea Party.

Yes, she is Sarah Palin with brains.

Of course, what Bachmann’s brain thinks sometimes doesn’t dovetail with reality. However, what doesn’t dovetail with reality frequently dovetails with Republicans. Just saying.

For instance, like much of her political base, Bachmann doesn’t believe in evolution or global warming, believes in the tooth fairy, thinks homosexuality can be cured, loves the music of
Bachman-Turner Overdrive and warns of a plot to merge the United States with Canada and Mexico.

By the way, she supports states rights on gay marriage, but also supports a constitutional amendment outlawing it. Much like a Ryan Howard home run, that covers all the bases.

Yep, the lady is a trip. And what a long trip it’s gonna be.

King James comes up small while trying to sit on the throne

LeBron James was elbow deep in hubris when he threw a big party upon his arrival in South Beach last year.
And now James is elbow deep in humility after he and the Miami Heat were knocked out in six games Sunday night by the Dallas Mavericks in the NBA Finals.
King James took his talents to South Beach but the Mavs kicked sand in his face. LeBron came up so small, especially in the fourth quarter, that earth worms were looking down at him.
Somehow the Psychic Helpline could have predicted that this wasn’t going to end well for James, who became the most hated man in basketball for his self-trumpeted exit from Cleveland.
For a guy who supposedly wants an NBA title like his next breath, James lacks a piranha’s appetite in the clutch.
Not saying that he chokes. But he does disappear like a guy swallowing Drano.

Paging David Mamet: Act 47 could use a rewrite

It took decades for Reading’s financial woes to swell up like a Macy’s float. So one year into Act 47 isn’t enough time to keep our town of out a Penn Street pawn shop.

Reading’s leaders are proud of their progress so far in the financial recovery plan aimed at stopping our city’s slide into bankruptcy.

However, critics will tell you Act 47 is not effective. It provides short-term solutions and treats symptoms without addressing the core issue of limited revenue streams that cannot keep pace with costs for services provided.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote that there are no second acts in American lives.

So what’s the odds there can be a 47th act?

Suffice it say, it’s a long shot that Reading will ever have Great Gatsby wealth.

But let us hope that our city finds some loose change in City Hall sofas.

Lasso Rick Perry and see if he's home on the range that is the White House lawn

Although most of the Republicans in the land already seem to be running, apparently having a Kentucky Derby-sized field in the presidential horse race isn’t enough.

Somebody always wants one more hot horse to ride.

Saddle up Rick Perry, pardner.

With Newt Gingrich now floundering like a flounder out of water, more folks are casting the eyes of Texas at Perry, who has yet to take the plunge.

I don’t know a whole lot about Perry, but I do know he has been a better Texas governor than George W. Bush. Of course, no big deal there. But at least Perry isn’t so dense that light can’t escape from his eyes (sorry about the double negative all you grammar teachers, but school’s out for the summer).

And I do know that Rick Perry is the son of spitballer Gaylord Perry and the brother of Aerosmith rocker Joe Perry.

Which obviously puts him in a deeper gene pool than some other Republican hopefuls.

Top aides jump ship on Captain Bligh, er, Gingrich

Evidently it was more like the The Bounty than The Good Ship Lollipop.
Not that good ol’ Newt had a snowball chance in hell before today because he obviously needed more distance off the tee and couldn’t afford a Big Bertha driver, but now Gingrich’s presidential ambitions definitely have faded like a sick flower
Gingrich’s campaign manager, senior strategists and key aides in early delegate-selection states all resigned today, a mass exodus that leaves his hopes in the dumpster.

Apparently there was a major squabble over vision, or the lack thereof. Blind’s man bluff I’d call it The fallout leaves Newt’s campaign covered with pyramids of hurt.

Guess Newt couldn’t put a muzzle on all the mouths that questioned him.

Pregnant wife plunges Weinergate to an even more abysmal low

I used to think that there was nothing more fascinating than a man whose life is circling the drain mistaking it for a Hersheypark amusement ride

Until Weinergate.

The rollercoaster that Anthony Weiner is riding would give the bends to a shark.

And now the whole sordid mess is making all of us yelp like bacon grease splattering on a hot stove.

It’s reported that Weiner’s unfortunate wife — Huma Abedin, a top aide Secretary of State Hillary Clinton (who knows a thing or two about wayward husbands herself) — is pregnant with their first child.

Poor kid, having a human turd for an old man.

If Obama wants the economy to accelerate, he first has to turn on the ignition

With the economy essentially a Tarantino bloodbath that could drown his bid for a second term, you would think that President Obama would be howling like a wolf instead of bleating like a lamb.
Despite several crummy economic reports, his poll numbers shrinking faster than Anthony Weiner and the announced departure of one of his top economic advisers, Obama insisted today that he isn’t worried about the nation falling into a double-dip recession but acknowledged that the recovery has “got to accelerate.”
Man, that’s a rather dry definition for something so wet with repercussions for him and all of us.