Thursdays With Tina: Are You Looking At Me? Edition

Wonkette's weekly service to our readers: Translating Tina Brown's Thursday column in the Washington Post. We understand it so that you don't have to.

Tina saysWhat it means
All the hype about Condi Rice's new rock-star persona is just because politics has lost its fizz. God, I miss Oval Office cigar-fucking!
In this Eros-deprived administration, it gives the Sunday morning news guys something to fantasize about: two girls going at it.Mmm, I wonder if Martha went That Way in prison. How sizzling would that be?
For sure, it's great to see how Condi has changed now that she's out from under. Out from under what exactly? Hmm. Umm. Well, if I just put a period after under, that ought to do it!
British cabinet ministers who had no impure thoughts about Mrs. Thatcher when she was a schoolmarmy minister for education suddenly mused about the "whiff of her Chanel" as she swept into cabinet meetings as PM. You know, journalism was way more fun when I actually had to go out and smell politicians. I should totally go give Paul Wolfowitz a good sniff.
I hope we see the same frisky transformation in new U.N. Ambassador John Bolton, whose ornery Wyatt Earp mustache and professorial specs could use a "Queer Eye" makeover. I wonder what John Bolton smells like—probably Old Spice and amyl nitrate...

Condi seems to have shed gender, shed race, shed the need for any visible emotional life.

Have you ever noticed how she never even says things like, "You go, girl!" Wuzzup with that, girlfriend?
Nobody in politics, still less in business life, can afford an out-there personality. It's such a shame that Arnold isn't allowed to grope women anymore. He was such a cut-up!
Every word out of a public figure's mouth is a hostage to fortune. Every private e-mail is a bomb that could blow up your life. I can't believe Paris didn't save my number. I gave it to her like seventeen times.
Sex at the office used to be one of the things that made going to work worthwhile, but not anymore since a Boeing e-mail snoop caused the board to can the highly successful, 68-year-old CEO Harry Stonecipher for his lapse with a company executive who wasn't even in the same town. At Vanity Fair, we used to bring in runaway teenage whores by the truckload and call them interns! Man, those were good times...
We're always under surveillance; cameras watch us wherever we go; paparazzi make small fortunes snapping glamour goddesses picking their noses; everything is on tape, with transcripts available. What do you have to do get onto Page 6 now anyways? I was practically fisting my schnozz at Poste the other night!
All the timidity this engenders, all this watching your mouth has started to feel positively un-American. DID YOU HEAR ME? I HAD IT IN UP TO MY GODDAMN ELBOW, HELLO?!
That's why Condi is such a perfect star for the Eggshell Era. Eggshell Era —that is so fetch! God, I hope people start using it.

Hungry Media Fill Up on Rice [WP]

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