I have never understood Maureen Dowd, neither why people read her, why she has a regular spot on the Times op-ed page, nor why she writes what she does.
At last, The Editors explain it. And the explanation involves furries.
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She just bought two pairs of new shoes.
Yesterday was the funeral for my great-aunt Mildred, known within the family as "Auntie" (first syllable "ont" not "ant"), who fell and bumped her head last Friday, and just never woke up.
I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Suzette. She's a very nice girl. She likes to talk - something, it turns out, she's very good at.
Today, I had to take care of some cats for a vacationing NYCer, so this meant that I had to brave the snow, slush and Lake Erie-sized mud-puddles in the process.
You read a web page that's headed with a banner which puts Hilary Clinton between Hitler and Mussolini?!