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Eminentoes

Time on Her Hands

Hillary Clinton would like you to join her for dinner.

(Page 3 of 6)

pimped out . Fair warning, though: I’m a sissy teetotaler, so I’ll probably bug out before the shots begin to rest up for the inevitable pig wrasslin’, square dancin’ and cow tippin’ denouement typical of gatherings where the vanguard lets its hair down with the not-bitter proletariat — or, as Obama prefers, the Annie Oakley-wing of the Democratic Party. br>
During the campaign, I had the chance a few times to grab meals with supporters, but they were always rushed thanks to the frenetic pace of the campaign. This is my first chance to sit down and spend some real one-on-one time with you.
Like I said, sounds great. I’m going through my closet looking for pastels right now. And, to be fair, I hardly made time for you, either. In my defense, you recall John Edwards — A.K.A. Mr. Two Americas; A.K.A. Johnny The NOT Historic Choice; A.K.A. Angry McWhitebread — was in the race for a spell, right? Well, he and the Brothers Goof, Chris Dodd and
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topics:
Hillary Clinton, Iraq

About the Author

Shawn Macomber is a contributing editor to The American Spectator.

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