Although he is not built for it, Fred Thompson is sashaying down the Republican runway, dropping gloves and hints about getting naked for ’08.
He gave Democrats a knuckle sandwich in Connecticut the other night, accusing them, fittingly enough at an award dinner named for George Bush’s grandfather, of debating “a timetable for surrender” in Iraq. For an encore, he railed against the horrors of “pork-barrel spending and corruption” in Washington.
It’s hard to think of the portly actor-politician as a sex symbol, despite his recent admission that as a bachelor, “a lot of women chased me...and tended to catch me.”
But love-starved Conservatives, in no position to be choosy, seem ready to swoon over his “Aw, Shucks” appeal.
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