I think about Herman Cain damn near everyday. I am pretty sure a lot of people in Florida do. I can’t help it; I live by a Godfather’s Pizza. Say what you want about him, but Godfather’s is damn good pizza. When I first moved from Brooklyn to Miami, I laughed when people told me that I can get the best pizza in Florida at a gas station. But it’s true, the stuff is like crystal meth (I am tired of crack metaphors and similes-you know sentencing disparities and all).
NOTE: This blog was written before I read the news about the new sexual harassment scandal this morning.