I think I heard someone say “a litre is smaller than a quart”.
Actually I think a ltr. is about 33 oz., which is slightly
more than a quart. There even used to be a series of public
service announcements, “Take ten (minutes) to learn the
metric way” and one line said “it’s (a liter) a little more
than a quart”
(Just looked up: 1 ltr. = 33.8 ounces)
How about this? Ingraham (on WTKK) tonight did not start at 10:07 pm; I presume a tech. difficulty. Well it was a whopper of a problem as there were ads
upon ads; finally it starts but Mark Levin is
running along with it! Finally they abruptly go back to ads; I think the 10 pm hour was about
85 per cent ADS. Yeah, tech. problems do happen but they didn’t have a backup show to put on?
Or were they taking care of “make goods”—making up for ads that for some reason didn’t run when
they were supposed to?
column ping
No worries, Carm, you’re the cheesiest
By Howie Carr | Wednesday, May 14, 2008 | http://www.bostonherald.com
The Cheeseman turned around in court yesterday and looked directly at me, his blubbery arms out in a plaintive manner.
“I thought you liked me, Howie.”
But I do, Cheeseman. You’re the best story going right now - Carmen DiNunzio, 400 pounds, the reputed “boss” of the Mafia in Boston, under arrest for trying to sell dirt to the Big Dig. For sheer amusement, this beats the hell out of Sal DiMasi’s “I Am Not a Crook” tour.
The Cheeseman was back in federal court yesterday, trying to get himself sprung. The feds, happy to find a Boston Mob figure they can beat like a pinata, are trying to paint him as the new Raymond Patriarca. The reality is, if the Cheeseman jumped into the Intracoastal Waterway in Florida, he would be protected under the Endangered Species Act, as a manatee.
In court last week, the Cheeseman looked dejected. Yesterday, there was a swagger in his waddle. His mother may yell through the front door of her East Boston house that I’m “crucifying” her son, but my bet is the Cheeseman is reveling in all the publicity.
I’m telling you, if he makes bail, forget Paul Revere and the Old North Church - his Fresh Cheese shop on Endicott Street will be the biggest tourist draw in the North End this summer, if the Cheeseman is behind the counter.
In court yesterday, the poor fed with the shaved head, Peter Levitt, didn’t even realize he was cracking up the courtroom with his overwrought Cheeseman lines.
“His lawyer is going to tell you he was trying to make himself look bigger than he was.”
Believe me, there is no way the Cheeseman can make himself look any bigger than he is.
“The weight of the evidence in this case is overwhelming.”
Surely Levitt meant to say, the weight of the defendant in this case is overwhelming.
“In 1993, when he was in Las Vegas, working for the Chicago family, he was the muscle.”
Surely Levitt meant to say the Cheeseman was the fat.
Yesterday it was revealed that the Cooperating Witness, the CW, who set up the Cheeseman, pleaded guilty to “federal financial crimes.” He made sure the Cheeseman met the undercover fed, who DiNunzio thought was a crooked Mass Highway hack he needed to bribe to corner the Big Dig dirt racket.
How did the CW know the Cheeseman? He had loaned him money, Cardinale said. So the Cheeseman is the big boss, but he’s borrowing money from crooked businessmen, and he’s bribing Big Dig inspectors? Then he gets stiffed on his $10,000 bribe, and the CW starts egging him on, telling him the hack is badmouthing him behind his back. This is Cardinale’s reconstruction of the conversation.
CW: “He’s laughing at you, Carmen. He says you’re nothing, you’re all done.”
Cheeseman: “He must have been drunk.”
CW: “No, he really meant it. He says you’re an idiot. You know where he lives? Right near my bar. He’s in there all the time.”
One of DiNunzio’s codefendants is another Mensa member named Anthony D’Amore, a disciple of the late Revere thug Sonny Boy Rizzo. Ironically, when he was trying to set up the deal, D’Amore was trying to sell the same image of the Cheeseman the feds were peddling yesterday - a fearsome cross between John Gotti and Haystack Calhoun.
“This ain’t a regular bleepin’ hoodlum setting this up, this is the Cheeseman. Nobody says his name.”
How could the big tub of lard possibly think I don’t like him? Keep talking, Cheeseman, and I’ll keep writing.
Article URL: http://www.bostonherald.com/news/opinion/columnists/view.bg?articleid=1093867