Late on a stormy night, Sister Margaret Ellen Noonan wandered, brooding, along the long hallway she called the “Hall of Heroes” in her proper Republicanpied-à-terrehigh above Manhattan. The portraits on the walls, oil paintings of dour old white men in three-piece suits, glowered at her. All the great Republicans were here: Reagan, of course, but also Ike and Coolidge and Teddy Roosevelt with his walrus moustache. Thunder crashed outside, and lightning flashing at the windows gave her heroes’ feral eyes a masculine cast. Oh, these were men, all right! Great men, colossi, who once strode the purple mountains majesty and the amber waves of grain!
There was more than one Taft? Oops.
Whiteboard cleaner.
I'm going to see a production of that tomorrow night! Charge!!!!!!
Funny, that never works for Conrad Black...
William Lyon Mackenzie King?
It's not much of a stretch from Taft to just daft.
gold fleck spray paint
take another hit of ether, Pegs- it's wearing off and you sound almost coherent
JUST KIDDING- you're as full of shit as ever.....
"Age of Lois Lerner"? Really?
Let it GO already.
The Tea Party's policy platform isn't inchoate, it's incoherent.
Getting advice from an imaginary Bob Taft? Was imaginary Henry Cabot Lodge too busy?
Even Lois Lerner says so, and she had the audacity to actually check!
Nah, once Nancy's finished gobbling ghost Ronnie's Little Saint, Peggy will be reinserting her cranium forthwith.
He was more like a rhino than a RINO.
It was a dark and stormy night in the cerebral cortex of Peggy Noonan.
Ether is a bit high brow. Maybe gasoline?