Bachelor party crasher Bill Murray takes a flier on finding the right spouse

Bill Murray public sightings are as infrequent as Halley’s Comet.

But when the legendary comedic actor does wiggle free from his cocoon of privacy, he delivers more impact than golf-sized hail on a windshield.

This past weekend Murray crashed a bachelor party in Charleston, SC and rather than focus on the groom, the twice-divorced Murray gave some sage advice to the single guys:

“If you have someone that you think is the one … take that person and travel around the world … when you land in JFK and you’re still in love with that person, get married at the airport.”

Murray didn’t mention joining the Mile High Club.

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PA was more happening than LA on a newsy Tuesday

OK, what didn’t happen in Pennsylvania yesterday?

Outside of me not holding the Mega Millions lottery ticket with a $149 million jackpot sold in Pennsylvania, plenty!

We had lottery ping-pong balls bouncing as if they were on steroids, a primary election, and a judicial ruling that left some people feeling gay and others not so much.

In a lottery of human beings to be selected next month, the Sixers landed the third and 10th overall picks in the NBA draft.

But all Philly fans can talk about today is that the draft lottery was fixed because the Cavaliers landed the top pick for the third time in four years, thus screwing the Sixers — who had strategically tanked their season to embellish their odds in a lottery in which piss-poor teams earn a better mathematical chance as a reward for their ineptitude.

And don’t you wish your boss had a similar attitude?

Conspiracy theorists are a breed more paranoid than Joseph Stalin (anybody under 60 please Google him).

With plum franchises like the Lakers and the Celtics sentenced by suddenly plummeting fortunes to the lottery Gulag, why the hell would the NBA rig it for Cleveland, the mistake by the lake that now at least has Johnny Manziel in town?

The NBA, of course, wouldn’t and didn’t.

The NBA lottery, like the Mega Millions, is all in the bounce of the ping-pong balls.

And then there was the Pennsylvania primary election.

Granted, a big snore except for the gubernatorial race.

Actually, even that was a big snooze-fest since embattled incumbent Tom Corbett ran unopposed on the Republican side and Tom Wolf, as expected, smothered his Democratic opponents with all the money he spent on TV ads.

Corbett just could be the most vulnerable first-term governor since PA allowed governors to run for a second term.

The left would love to stick fondue forks in Corbett’s ears and stir.

His own party also sees him as toxic, with Lieutenant Governor Jim Cawley collecting 26,000 more votes than Corbett (rather remarkable because lieutenant governors couldn’t be anymore anonymous if they were in the Witness Protection Program) and members of the Corbett administration jumping like rats from a sinking ship.

Speaking of forks, don’t put a fork in Corbett’s reelection chances even if his Not-So-Good Ship Lollipop is listing (to the right, of course).

What put Wolf over the top in the primary — money — won’t be the case in the general election. Corbett will begin the general election cycle with nearly six times the cash that Wolf has.

Money Talks. Bullshit Walks.

Except at times in politics, where bullshit also is a valuable currency. So we shall see come November (and whatever happened to summer?).

Finally, a federal judge struck down Pennsylvania’s ban on same-sex marriage Tuesday, the latest judicial victory for gays and lesbians seeking to marry whomever they want.

Pennsylvania became the 19th state to allow same-sex marriage, joining eight others in the Northeast.

Corbett, who is opposed to same-sex marriage, said Wednesday he would not appeal the federal court ruling because his administration lawyers concluded that an appeal was extremely unlikely to succeed.

Left unsaid was that an appeal by Corbett would further alienate him from liberals who treat gays and lesbians like rock stars.

I would imagine that Corbett would draw the line on a judicial ruling allowing people of whatever sexual preference to marry their pet goldfish.

VA neglect of vets is barbaric brutality

America excels at paying homage to our armed forces, especially at high profile sporting events where they put military personnel on parade and unfurl flags big enough to cover football fields.

But when you hear the rest of the story, all that patriotic pomp sounds hauntingly hollow.

It’s a shame that our VA hospitals apparently don’t hold our wounded warriors in such high esteem.

A whistle-blowing doctor now claims that veterans with serious heart conditions, gangrene, and even brain tumors waited months for care at the Albuquerque VA hospital.

If true, it is inexcusable and inhumane to callously neglect vets, some of whom have shed blood and limbs defending our freedom.

Add Albuquerque to the growing list of VA hospitals accused of keeping secret waiting lists to hide delays for veterans seeking medical care.

One could conclude that our VA system is in essence raining friendly fire on vets who are painfully vulnerable.

Eagles’ first-round choice not totally Looney Tunes

It’s an understatement to say that Louisville outside linebacker Marcus Smith is the most polarizing Eagles’ first-round draft pick in awhile.

There are legions of Birds fans today who want to dangle Howie Roseman and Chip Kelly from Billy Penn’s hat.

They are incensed that the Eagles traded down to make a reach.

Not easy to do without popping a few discs.

The pick was about as sexy as Queen Elizabeth.

Marcus Smith might as well be named John Smith.

Even Kate Smith would have been a more digestible pick for Iggles’ Nation.

The only way Marcus Smith could have been more anonymous was if he had been in the witness protection program.

Most NFL teams considered Smith to be a late second-rounder or third-rounder.

So what’s up?

Well, while Smith is raw fix-me-upper project, the Birds plucked him because they’re desperate for a pass rusher and opted for Smith because of the promise he could deliver just that.

Sure, they could have taken Johnny Manziel, but with Nick Foles, Mark Sanchez and Matt Barkley, that would have been an exercise in quarterback redundancy.

Granted, they could have drafted a wide receiver, but there are plenty of good ones left to snatch in later rounds.

Meanwhile, pass rushers in this draft are scarcer than pacifists in Putin’s inner circle.

Evidently the Eagles had identified six players of first-round caliber they hoped to grab.

All six were gone before the Eagles’ 22nd selection. They could have traded back again, but they liked Smith and couldn’t guarantee that he’d be there when they picked 54th overall.

So they traded down to No. 26 and picked Smith, which suddenly had Adam’s apples from Wildwood to Bethel bobbing in disbelief.

Was it a pick that will live in infamy or immortality?

Only a fool could conjecture either way at this juncture.

Which is why they play the games.

Otherwise they simply could ask Nostradamus or Mel Kiper Jr.

Prom draft a gift from heaven for boys who aren’t teen heartthrobs

I did not go to my high school prom because I didn’t become impossibly handsome and an irresistible chick magnet until my college years.

It’s a shame my high school didn’t have the prom draft tradition that a Southern California high school has.

Administrators at the affluent Corona del Mar High are discouraging students from participating in a prom draft that involves male students ranking female students and then selecting a date from the favored pool.

Male students draw draft picks in a lottery but can pay to improve their draft number so they can pick the date of their choice.

Meaning a gangly, skinny, pimply-faced nerd with braces on his teeth can take the homecoming queen who would cause cardiac arrest in a yak to the prom if he gets the top pick in the draft or has deep pockets.

School administrators don’t like how the draft objectifies or judges girls.

But let’s get real. High school boys and girls objectify or judge each other with or without a draft.

It comes with their teenage DNA.

Blame it on young hormones surging faster than the rapids on Thunder River.

Cow flatulence could fry us all

Carbon dioxide levels in Earth’s atmosphere have reached the highest level in history, exceeding 400 parts per million in April.

No wonder Miley Cyrus is always sick.

Some scientists say increasing carbon dioxide levels could someday make the world hotter than hell … bad news for our children and grandchildren unless they open up lemonade stands.

Believe it or not, cow farts are a prime driver in higher carbon dioxide levels.

I kid you not.

So what’s to be done?

Instead of feeding livestock a predominantly corn and soy based diet, cattle people should mix in alfalfa, linseed and grass to reduce the amount of methane cows produce.

Granted, human beings could help out by cutting back their visits to Mexican restaurants.
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