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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham “I feel terrible,” I said, to no one in particular, except that Ralphus heard me. No matter. Because I did, you know, feel terrible. I had the flu, or so I thought. I mean, I probably did. I felt bad, and all. I had chills, and a fever…
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham My agent, Harvey D. Shyster III, Esquire, called me up over the weekend to tell me about this great idea that he had. This is never good, I remember thinking at the time. He had an idea to help me through my short-term budget crunch, he said. The…
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham “Not even close.” That was pretty much the answer I got when I called People to see why I hadn’t been included in the most recent edition of the magazine’s annual “50 Most Beautiful People” list. Again. I mean … Talk about snubs … “See, I noticed my…
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham Something ba-a-a-a-d’s going to happen to me. I just know it. And I’m thinking, for the record … it’s going to be really ba-a-a-a-d. Really, really ba-a-a-ad. Because I’m due. Overdue. (Make that way, WAY overdue.) Don’tcha hate how you get that feeling sometimes – that something untoward…
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham I can understand why members of the House of Delegates are so interested in commissioning a portrait of now-former interim House Speaker Lacey Putney, I-Bedford. You know, so that they can then hang it on up on the wall. Right there in the Capitol. Because Putney … Um…
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham You’re out flying around the nation’s capital on a pleasant, sunny Sunday afternoon, minding your own business. And then out of the blue (literally), an F-16 sidles up next to your Beech 35 – thinking you’re some sort of terrorist or something. Aha. Very good. Yes? No ….
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Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham Three years ago this month, I did just about the stupidest thing I think I could have ever done in my life. I proposed to my wife. Wait a second. That didn’t come out right. (I’m in the doghouse, big time, and I’m what? Like, 50 words into…
