I slept in, while Tam chortled over the hooting and posturing on This Face The Press/Meet The Nation-Week, one of those dreadful, over-lit, pundit-haunted temporary hells that dissect current events with the same degree of insight and wit as a basement huddle of cow-college sophomores in very recent possession of their first fake ID.
It's nothing I can face unfortified by coffee and carbs, so I pulled the intervening doors nearly to and burrowed back under the covers with a pillow over my head. When I awoke, it was all over except for the faint whiff of ersatz brimstone, a rusty and slightly bent campaign button for Mr. O---- and a few white feathers floating in the blovaited air.
Whew! That was a close one!
Update
3 days ago
1 comment:
Roberta,
Watch out for danger signs, some of us are little worried that Tam is spending too much time abusing her brain listening to that soul sucking brain mashing zombie logic. Her Snark-Fu is strong, but their Zombie-Fu is infinite, and she's vastly outnumbered.
A day or three of hiding under the pillow is a Good Thing.
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