This is a cool story involving beer, sangria, [—censored —], guitars, an epic faceplant, and enigmatic synchronicity.

It begins in the WGSO studio, right there in the Booth of Truth, after our January 25 show. Our engineer, Rudy Dixon, told us about a new show on WGSO called "The Flip Side of the Coin," hosted by Gerard Rodrigues, Monday afternoons at five.

Rudy said that Gerard talks about a lot of the same issues we talk about on "Baldy and The Blonde."

Gerard, evidently, is brilliant.

Fast forward to last Saturday evening. A friend of mine called and said he met someone he would like to introduce me to. Some guy, get this, with a new show on WGSO called "The Flip Side of the Coin." As my friend tells the story, before he told Gerard that he knows yours truly, Gerard told my friend that he likes the "Baldy and The Blonde" show  and wants to meet the hosts.

As I said, Gerard is brilliant.

     -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    He should have come up plenty bloody with a
    busted face and a smashed guitar, but man and
    guitar arose like a Phoenix, unscathed, if not
    from the ashes, then from a slick linoleum floor.
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So that was cool, but it gets better.

My friend also invited me to go with him to some guy's house to drink beer and play some music. That is, the other guys would drink beer and jam on their guitars while I drank beer. I accepted, despite the conspicuous and unfortunate absence of Scotch.

At some point, someone broke out some cheap sangria. A little later, a couple guys disappeared outside for a few minutes, during which time, I am pretty sure, they [—censored —] some [—censored —].

It was around this time I learned one of life's valuable lessons. I learned this: Beer, sangria, [—censored —], flip-flops, and unfamiliar stairs do not mix. At least not well.

This was cool: One of the musicians, while carrying an expensive guitar, attempted to negotiate said unfamiliar stairs while wearing flip-flops, shortly after partaking of said beer, sangria, and [—censored —]. And he executed the greatest faceplant of all time that did not result in serious injury or property damage. How he escaped tragedy, I have no idea. He should have come up plenty bloody with a busted face and a smashed guitar, but man and guitar arose like a Phoenix, unscathed, if not from the ashes, then from a slick linoleum floor.

Oh, the miracles of cheap alcohol and [—censored —].

Toward the end of the evening, more than two hours after I promised myself I absolutely, positively would leave, my drunk friend mentioned that I host a radio show. This intrigued the other drunks, who asked me what the show is about. When I told them what topics we cover, the girlfriend of one of the drunks said, " So you're like the Flip Side of the Coin."

Again?

"Oh, yeah," I told her. "But he's on Mondays at five. We're Wednesdays at five. Same station, though."

Blank look, followed by confused look. So I went on: "You know, the show: 'The Flip Side of the Coin.'"

And here's what she said (I swear): "I don't know what show you're talking about. I just made that up."

Enigmatic synchronicity, indeed.

South Carolina Republicans have spoken, and it's Newt they want.

Nice pick, if you think about it. While many of Gingrich's Republican competitors have shown themselves to be serial flip-floppers, Gingrich has been consistent on at least one issue: marry, cheat, divorce, marry the mistress, cheat, divorce, marry the mistress.

Newt has not confessed to cheating on wife number three. Yet. Maybe he's given up cheating. If so, the most likely explanation is not that he has flip-flopped and become honorable, but rather that he fears wife number three would behead him, ala Goldfinger's henchman Oddjob, with that freaky thing on her head that sort of resembles hair.

Some would argue that Republicans have given up the moral high ground and can no longer bash Bill Clinton for his affairs, foreign and domestic. But those people are wrong, of course, because while Clinton cheated on one hundred percent of his wives, Gingrich has cheated on only sixty-seven percent of his. Officially, that is.

Republicans who are considering future runs for the White House should right away begin focusing on the Gingrich formula of marry, cheat, divorce, etc. After all, Newt didn't build up his impressive collection of wives, mistresses and ex-wives overnight. Phil Lander in 2016, anyone?

Then there's the issue of Gingrich's age and health. If Gingrich were to be elected, he would be a few months shy of seventy at the time of the inauguration, making him the second-oldest to reach the White House. Why no questions about his age? We hear plenty of questions about Ron Paul's age (he's about eight years older than Gingrich), but Paul exercises regularly and is physically fit. Gingrigh probably hasn't laced up athletic shoes since he first started chasing after mistresses in the mid-1960's, which, it is rumored, is the last time he could see his feet while showering (to those who just threw up their mouths, I apologize).

President Kennedy, according to legend, once infamously declared to a crowd in West Berlin that he was a jelly donut. Now, I did not know Jack Kennedy, and Jack Kennedy was not a friend of mine, but this much I know: Jack Kennedy was no jelly donut.

Gingrich is.

Gingrich and Paul are perfect examples of Baldy's Law, which states that for each of the Republican candidates for president, w + x = c, where w equals number of current wives, x equals number of ex-wives, and c equals number of chins.

Why does this soft, doughy, overweight, 68-year-old jelly donut get a pass from a silent media when it comes to his age and health? Do we really want a president who looks like a cross between Julia Child and Paula Deen? How is it that marry, cheat, divorce, marry the mistress, cheat, divorce, marry the mistress has become the formula for success? Perhaps the corporate media are partial to his foreign policy, which advocates that the U.S. commit acts of terrorism in Iran and lie about it, followed by full-on war if necessary.

Gingrich recently recommended "maximum covert operations to block and disrupt the Iranian program, including taking out their scientists, including breaking up their systems, all of it covertly, all of it deniable." And if our acts of terrorism don't have the desired effect, "you have to take whatever steps are necessary to break (Iran's) capacity to have a nuclear weapon."

Is it a coincidence that "South Carolina" is an anagram for "Iran Holocaust"?

Here's a joke:

As a senior citizen was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang. Answering, he heard his wife's voice urgently warning him, "Herman, I just heard on the news that there's a car going the wrong way on the interstate. Please be careful!"

"Hell," said Herman, "It's not just one car. It's hundreds of them!"

The Louisiana Republican Party is Herman.

While other states jockey to be among the first to hold their primary or caucus, Louisiana, which has  a primary and a caucus, is racing toward the end of the line. What's the importance of being an early-voting state? I'll answer that question with a question: If Iowa and New Hampshire voted  say, in late April, after three-fourths of the states had voted, would you pay any attention to the results? Also, late-voting states practically disenfranchise their voters if one of the candidates has secured a majority of delegates to the national convention.

The candidates pay a lot more attention to early-voting states, too. In Iowa and New Hampshire, it's common for candidates to mingle face-to-face with regular Joe and Jane voters at local diners. This has many advantages for Joe and Jane. Imagine having the opportunity to dump a plate of spaghetti on Gingrich or Santorum.

In 2008, the Louisiana Republican caucus was held January 22, seventh in the nation. Not bad, seventh.

In 2012, some of the early states got a little antsy and moved up so as to be even earlier. Not Louisiana, though. Remember, Louisiana is Herman. Here's what the geniuses in the Louisiana Republican Party just announced: The 2012 Louisiana Republican caucus will be held April 28, putting Louisiana thirty-seventh in the nation. Not so good, thirty-seventh.

So, Super Tuesday is March 6. The Louisiana Republican primary is March 24. The caucus is five weeks after that.

Nice job, Herman.