By Count Friedrich von Olsen
You don’t have to be crazy to be a newspaper man, but it does help…
I put the feed bag on at a local bistro, one where the food is very good and which also features a lounge, a piano, a chanteuse and a dance floor. I kept my ears open while I enjoyed the victuals. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to identify the chophouse because if I were to do so, I might not be allowed to return. I overheard a few things…
A father was recently arrested and brought before a judge, charged with spanking his 18-year-old daughter. His honor, a loyal Republican, dismissed the charge when daddy explained he did it to prevent her from taking part in a sit down strike…
And here’s a tip for the police: the bookie office of the local bet taker has been moved from its old quarters to a similar set up just across the street…
Speaking of fast horses, what local frequent denizen of Santa Anita, Hollywood Park and Del Mar will not be making his frequent flights to Florida for the next three racing seasons after authorities there learned he had doped up a horse at race track in the Sunshine State?
I see Mrs. William Stanton Frieden III is on a diet again, that is champagne and caviar….
What billionaire playboy with wedding bells in his beret would tune them out pronto if he found out his nightclub canary still has a legal mate?
What coffee king is going to be crowned a slave when his wife finds him holding hands with the manicurist at Louis Christie’s instead of getting his locks shorn at the Palace Barber Shop?