There is a fort in the South were a few years ago a murder was committed. The participants of this tragedy were: two officers, a soldier, two women, a Filipino, and a horse.
— Reflections in a Golden Eye
We need more Petraeus scandal. It can’t be over yet. It just can’t.
We’ve got the fort in the South, MacDill Air Force Base.
The two officers, Gens. Petraeus and Allen.
The two women, Mmes Broadwell and Kelley.
Fred Humphries, the Shirtless FBI Agent, killed a crippled Vietnam veteran with PTSD at the gates of MacDill in 2010. So there’s a soldier, if not a murder. (Humphries wasn’t charged with anything.)
We have a jealous adulterous, reams of flirty emails, a fake cancer charity, two doctors named Scott (one or both cuckolded), and a visit to the Republican National Convention by MacDill’s unpaid “social liaison” to sell South Korea clean coal.
We have a Tampa socialite, a twin sister, an ugly divorce and a “date” with Charlie Crist.
At the end of last week, we heard about Jill Kelley’s three touristy visits to the White House, and the time she dropped a general’s name to get the mayor of Tampa to stop a DJ from deep-frying a Koran.
(The DJ in question, Bubba the Love Sponge, appears to be at least tacitly involved in events leading to his wife being secretly videotaped having unpleasant, workmanlike sex with professional wrestler Hulk Hogan.)
(Hogan, post-coital: “Fuck, I just ate too. I felt like a pig. I gotta put my Bubba shirt back on. Can’t believe I just ate like a pig 10 minutes ago. I feel like I just got off a fucking roller coaster. I’m out of breath.” Take that, “Lay your sleeping head, my love.”)
But since then… nothing.
Where in the name of Carson McCullers is my Filipino and my horse?