![]() Breitbart could have gotten Kim Jong Il inducted into the group if he’d have wanted to. His word was the word of God in that circle. I wanted to add, “and indeed, that’s one fine penis,” but I refrained.Īndrew Breitbart didn’t run FOA, but he might as well have. “Hey David, nice to meet you” Baio said, his voice vibrating from the effort of shaking the last bit of dew from his member. He and Sinise had to put up with this vulgar creep because he was Breitbart’s boy. Still, it was worth it to hear the phrase “nice penis, Baio.” Poor Chachi. The tension in the bathroom was thick enough to crush a urinal cake. If the quip was an attempt to break the ice, it had a cringingly opposite effect. Neither Sinise nor Baio wanted to jibber-jabber while they pissed, and everyone but Romano seemed uncomfortable that I was just standing there like I’m looking for a glory hole. ![]() “Baio, you know my friend Stein? He’s gonna be a big player around here.” Lookatus, we’re pissin’ together,” he belted out. We went into the bathroom, and Romano took the middle urinal, in between Gary Sinise and Scott Baio. But okay, I’ll go in with you, you annoying Goombah. “Whatdafuck, Stein? You don’t wanna keep talkin’ to me as I piss?”Įxactly. “Uh, you know, John, lemme just go wait at the . . .” I mean, if I don’t like seeing people touch food with their hands, why would I want to see . . . Even if I wasn’t already disgusted by his constant orifice-picking, I still wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him when he’s pissing. “Fuck you, Stein, come into the shitter with me, you fag.” Oh crap, he’s one of those guys, the kind who like to share moments of bodily function for “male bonding” purposes. Okay, I told him, I’ll see you at the bar. On the way, he said he had to take a piss. So Romano and I decided to head to the bar. Abe membership got you a free dinner, but not free booze. The speakers that night were David Mamet and Michigan representative Thad McCotter, who’d go on to become involved in my own Republican Party Animals group. But I knew Romano, and he was still in good with Breitbart, so I was okay. And my first formal dinner would include an uncomfortable moment with Scott Baio’s penis.Īt my first formal Abe event following my initiation, there weren’t many people I knew. It was the same deal as with “Friends of Dorothy,” but in this case, it was a code to help conservatives find each other while on set or at a party.Īnd now I was in. “Friends of Abe” refers to Abe Lincoln, the first Republican president. ![]() A “yes” answer would mean “your place or mine?” If two men who thought the other might be gay met at a Hollywood party, one would ask the other, “are you a friend of Dorothy” (referring to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz). The name “Friends of Abe” was a play on the term “Friends of Dorothy,” which was a code for being gay used by homosexuals in the film industry in the ’40s. And I’m glad I did well, because, from the way the Abes were surrounding and judging me, I kept having the nagging concern that being rejected would somehow involve banishment to the Phantom Zone. I told a few anecdotes, stated my views, and the best part was, I didn’t even have to feign sincerity. The Abe leaders were sitting behind tables arranged in a square formation. I was “initiated” into Friends of Abe in 2009. The Sicilian hummingbird was true to his word. The following excerpt picks up right at the moment that Cole had been invited to join FOA: And here he tells it, warts and all, the first-ever exposé of the secretive Hollywood far-right underground, “Friends of Abe” (FOA). until it all came crashing down when a vengeful former girlfriend outed him publicly. Condemned by those who had previously lauded him, Cole was left with nothing but his story. The following is an excerpt from Republican Party Animal, by David Cole (Feral House, 2014).Įditor's note: A strange guy who harbors a dark secret and a bounty on his head becomes a leader in Hollywood’s secret right-wing underground. David Cole was working with major GOP power players and far-right Hollywood A-listers, creating huge private events for the West Coast GOP elite.
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