Wonkette
Mark Sanford is sick, just sick to death, of Hypocrisy. First America was intolerant of true love and basically demanded that he pretty much ignore his own heart. Well, guess what, now everyone is angry that he has been spending time with his family! Specifically, everyone is criticizing him for using South Carolina’s money to fly to disparate low-budget hair salons and to attend his son’s soccer tournament, activities that are the actual diametric opposites of feasting on pre-sex carbonara with Maria, his Argentinian Roman candle.
The AP is reporting that since 2003, the governor’s private jet has been instrumental in Sanford family bonding activities such as keeping dentist appointments and attending something called the “Greenville County Bronze Elephant Dinner.” And now because Sanford had the decency to bring his sons along on such adventure trips, all of a sudden he is The Bad Guy, again.
In South Carolina, governors are able to use aircraft run by different agencies: a King Air twin turboprop run by the Aeronautics Division that can seat nine passengers, and smaller, slower propeller-driven planes managed by the Department of Natural Resources.
As governor, Sanford has flown 353 hours aboard the larger plane and an additional 73 hours on the smaller, propeller planes — a total cost of nearly $373,000, according to Sanford’s office and other state records.
Sanford’s children spent more time on the bigger state plane than the children of the past two governors, records show. At least one of Sanford’s sons was aboard 43 flights during his first term alone. That compared with 11 during Hodges’ single term and 12 during David Beasley’s one term.
Well, uh yes, of course. “Hodges” and “David Beasley” did not also have to balance TRUE LOVE with occasional bad-faith appearances at various children’s athletic competitions. Things are a lot less complicated and expensive when you ignore the poetry of your own soul.
[AP]
Well, I think he got the moniker “The Bag Guy” because of his well-documented love of Hermes handbags.
Jesus should save him soon, right?
We New Yorkers welcome the governor and his twin turboprop King Air to the Hudson River corridor anytime. Y’all come up.
When you ignore poetry it is bound to repeat itself. Such as.
The real question here is what would King David do? And the answer is that King David would have his enemies killed and make it look like an accident — because, dammit, they’re interfering with the LORD making him a better person.
Watching him is like watching a comic strip unfold before your eyes: you don’t know EXACTLY how it will happen but you’re certain that total disaster is coming in the last panel.
I think in cartoonist jargon it’s called “the death panel”.
Wait, I thought Sanford had 4 sons. In this picture, I only see 3. (I assume the two boys with the bags are just local beggars.) Did his fourth kid go jetting off to Argentina? Like father, like son, I suppose.
I am so glad when there is proof that the Wonkette team loves me and brings me stories of Mark. I am still waiting for his resignation, Snowbilly’s divorce or the death of any major Fox news figure but I take what I can get. Thank you, Ken, Jim, Sara, former intern Juli and current intern Riley.
Maria Bartiromo will only “explain economics to him” if he takes her on the jet.
He’s like Sky King aboard the Songbird, always doing good wherever he goes.
What, so now propellor planes are bad too? First jets, now props? We are left with what, helicopters, blimps, and hot air balloons? I demand to know how one is supposed to get around Arizona?
He just wanted to soar like he’s never soared before…
Isn’t it time for this fukknut to get backed over by a garbage truck?
I think the shocking thing here isn’t all the jet use but that he has a son who plays that pussy Euro-Socialist sport of Soccer. Conservatives hate soccer as much as they hate giving welfare to poor minorities, gay people, and Michael Moore
Hooray For Anything: Not actually true: Children are welcome to play soccer in America. Adult men who play soccer, though, are teh gey.
Vacation Without Hats: In the ancient days of radio comedy, this would be accompanied by a muted trumpet going WAH-WAH-WAHHHHHH..
Another god-fearing loverboy turns into a walking-talking Shakespearean tragedy waiting to play out his final scene. I was never much for theater till now.
Many of his plane trips were from his home in Charleston to his home in Columbia and vice versa. It takes 2.5 hours to drive from Columbia to Charleston…more realistically 2 if you don’t drive like my mother…why the heck did he need to fly?
also, I frequently ride up to work in the elevator with ex-gov Jim Hodges (D)…today I held the door for him. I have been trying to get the nerve to ask him what he thinks of the luv guv but hard to think how I can say it quick enough to get asked and answered in 4 floors.
I’m calling bullshit on that article. There’s no way in hell South Carolina has an “Aeronautics Division.”
With all this talk of “True Love”, is anyone else picturing Sanford tumbling down a huge hill, shouting “Aaaaaaaas youuuuuuu wiiiiiiiishhh!” to his Latina Princess, just before she hurls herself down after him?
Mahousu: Actually, all the kids on that street are his (now abandoned)
children. He parades his current family down this street once a year and checks on how everybody’s doing. The route’s been getting a bit long lately, so he may have to cut back in the future to get just “the highlights”.
“Bronze Elephant Dinner”
First a Muslin president, now we find out that that the governor of South Carolina is a Hindoo!
I would also need some kind of incentive to get me to go to Greenville.
SayItWithWookies:
“The real question here is what would King David do?”
King David would walk to his dentist appoitments, elephant dinners and soccer practices.
Man
his arms must be tired.
right?
right??
Buzz Feedback: All this drama for a little Argentine Anal (something his wife would never do… again)… ¡Qué lastima!
The Station Manager: Nope, but now he totally brings Prince Humperdinck to mind!
Perhaps someone should bring some pigs on the plane to teach ol’ Mark a lesson.
Sounds like South Carolina has a bigger Air Force than some countries.
SC Governor Stanford and His Wife Are Slicker Than Greased Pigs.
http://msmpost.com/news/127/ARTICLE/1348/2009-08-06.html
ChernobylSoup v2: Planenutz?
Vacation Without Hats: WIN!
“There’s absolutely nothing out of line here. The governor was out practicing his landings on the Appalachian Trail.”
bamaboy: Yeah, like pre-invasion Iraq. Such as.
Sanford and Sons, so is this the sequel? I’m a comin’, ‘Lizabeth!
Oldskool: Oh no, this is Shakespearean comedy at its finest. It’s like Midsummer Night’s Dream, only with Oberon sleeping with Hippolyta, Puck resigning in disgust, and Titania storming out of the forest, dragging Mustardseed and the other fairies with her.
Well South Carolina is so large, the only way to get around is by small private plane. I mean, how do *you* get to the dentist?
“ignore the poetry of your own soul”
There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
And he said with a grin
As he wiped off his chin,
“If my ear were a cunt, I would fuck it.
Arkansas had to buy cargo jets to ferry around the ‘plus-sized’ Huckabee clan.
I’ve had it with these muthafuckin’ kids on this muthafuckin’ plane!
gurukalehuru: Her name is ELIZABETH, not ‘lizabeth. She is NOT HAPPY. When will you learn?
orange: Jesus said: “Make to yourselves friends of unrighteous mammmon, for the children of the world are wiser than the children of G-d”(Luke 16:19). Then he told a story about a guy who’s unemployment insurance was making friends through bribery.
Zhu
finallyhappy: Seriously, I would have killed myself years ago had it not been for stories such as those you cite. So when someone asks me who provides my health insurance, I reply, “Wonkette.”
Quelle coincidence, I just stumbled across these previously unseen (by me, at least) pics of Maria Belen Chapur. Tried sending them to the tip line, but I’ve been having problems with my email (don’t know what I’m doing). So here you go
Argentine sparkler carrying groceries:
http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/gallery/stars/maria-belen-shapur/
In all honesty, if you can’t abuse state owned aircraft privileges, what the fuck is the point of even being governor in the first place?
In this case noboby wins, the people of South Carolina, Mark Sanford’s wife, and espicially Mark, as he would much rather be doing something else.
queeraselvis v 2.0: Hehe. I’d think he’s Romeo with a Hamlet complex.
queeraselvis v 2.0: Bingo, we have a winner! Woo me with your sword!
Gah. I’m pathetic. I can’t think of anything funny to say about a multi-millionaire governor married to a multi-millionaire heiress who refuses money for his crap crap crappy public schools & unemployment benefits & etc just to make points in his stupid party while also being too cheap cheap cheap to pay his own way.
Ass.
sbored Socialist/Communist: Wow. Just looked at those argentine sparkler photos. What in the world does Sanford do that makes the women in his life shrink themselves down down down in size? Gah! He’s poison.
Vacation Without Hats: “Watching him is like watching a comic strip unfold before your eyes: you don’t know EXACTLY how it will happen but you’re certain that total disaster is coming in the last panel.
I think in cartoonist jargon it’s called “the death panel”.
Brilliant. But I think we all know how this is really going to end. With a sex tape of Sanford & his mistress that proves she’s a chick with a dick (my fag-dar is never wrong: that man has major gay-face), Mrs. Sanford weeping on Oprah, his kids in a sexting scandal (that middle boy looks questionable: he’s probably sending nude pics to Mark Foley disguised as Zac Efron as we speak) and Sanford himself on a VH1 show, probably on “I love New York 3″. Which I will watch, also.
El Bombastico: You mean he was really visiting a Mario?
I can see Birthday, Anniversary and International Harvester in that picture. But where’s Stabbed in Jail?
That munificent man in his flying machines,
He goes up diddley up-up, he goes down diddley down-down (on his sparkin’ Patagonian firecracker)!