A two hour interview with this townie about the sheer hotness of Bill Clinton, about the Bill Clinton mystique. She was gushing in her seat, so I had to know. I probed and poked and danced in a fountain. We got pretty wasted and then parted ways. I have no idea if any of this will prove relevant, and really who cares. The important thing: I now know how a non-partisan chick feels, in detail, about the hotness of Bill Clinton. The bummer thing: I’m so wasted and I dread waking up tomorrow.