Al Franken, literary exposer of lies and the lying liars who tell them, has picked up and moved to the fly-over state of Minnesota in pursuit of a possible Senate run. (CoD? aside: Should Jesse Ventura be given credit for starting the Minnesota gold-rush of washed-up celebrity/politician wanna-be?)
I take a sick sense of satisfaction in this only because you know Franken can't be comfortable in that state. (Nothing against the fine people of Minnesota mind you. I've driven through the state and was really impressed with the size of your "Welcome To..." sign and the average daily temperature you guys got going on in late October. Mint, both.) But in regards to Franken's "comfort zone", compare the worlds of St. Paul or Minneapolis to Manhattan's Central Park West and you'll start to understand where my tiny bit of schadenfreude stems from.
Of course, I also have to relish in the fact that, should Franken actually run, there's a chance the people of that great state (God willing) may actually send this man to be one of their representatives in the U.S. Senate....
Now, if we could just convince Sheehan to get back into national politics, Republicans would be all but set for life.