On the day he announced he’ll be campaigning hard for Mayor of New York City, this tool spent it hiding from reporters. Must have been busy tweeting or something. But hey, he did graciously order pizzas for reporter camped outside his luxury apartment. Sausage was conspicuously missing.
Shame-faced, prickly and evasive, Anthony Weiner stayed in hiding yesterday, the day he announced he’s running for mayor.
But the disgraced ex-congressman materialized on the telephone — so terrified of talking to me, a known pussycat, that he refused to speak unless another reporter was on the line to deflect hard questions.
Weiner camped out inside his Park Avenue South luxury apartment yesterday with his wife and toddler, leaving his chirpy spokeswoman alone on the street to explain he wasn’t coming out.
She tried to keep the press literally eating out of Weiner’s hand, buying them three pizzas. Cheese pizzas. For a man who rose from relative obscurity by texting photos of his package, it was an easy call: Yo, Bravo pizzeria, hold the sausage!
On the phone, Weiner was surly, and he couldn’t even come clean about his well-photographed lust for reading America’s favorite newspaper.
“I don’t read the New York Post,’’ he stated, proving that he’s guilty of the planet’s three biggest lies — I never cheat, never fib and I never read The Post.
Then he ran back to the safety of his script.
Even given the lack of qualified candidates on the Democratic side, it’s almost inconceivable people would be stupid enough to support this loser. But underestimating the stupidity of New Yorkers has plagued us for years.