I Heart Roger Clark

The subject line of this post - with it's implications of Le Clark in a prison porn flick - doesn't even begin to capture the bizarro nature of yesterday's Roger Report which I'm only writing about now because a) today's report featured The Man himself in a coat and tie talking about something universally boring and b) it took me a full 24 hours to process how weird yesterday's report was. Leave it to Roger to find himself a story only a few blocks from his home, and strategically located near the local bakery. Apparently, the Riker family owned a home in Rog's fave borough back in the ye olde 17th century. After changing hands and falling into disrepair it was purchased in the 1960s and restored to its original glory in the 1980s by The Smiths, a couple who look not unlike Morticia Addams and The Skipper from Gilligan's Island if he happened to dip into Mr. Howell's closet for the day. I've got to admit, the house is quite a jewel especially considering the fact that its closest neighbors are the prison and LaGuardia Airport. Roger, looking ruddy and relaxed (undoubtedly from his quick commute and quite possibly a pastry on the way over), really turned it on for these folks who returned the favor. Even while talking about how her husband courted her back in the 70s by showing her his "graveyard" in the backyard (There is actually a graveyard and showing that kind of thing on a first date was apparently quite a turn-on back in the Me Decade) , Mrs. Smith flashed Rog some heavily botoxed bedroom eyes. Roger seemed impressed, if only by the house, and Mr. Smith - wearing a stunning ascot for that hour of the morning - was none the wiser. Spot on, Clark.