Betcha’ thought I’d disappeared . . .

I’ve been really busy the last few days.  Busy good — as in, spending time with the family and measuring lots and lots of windows for window treatments! 

So because of the busy state of my life right now, I’ve not heard much news.  Until today when I heard that ultra-super-duper classified documents had somehow inadvertently jumped into Sandy Berger’s jockey shorts.  With no help from Mr. Berger, those devilish documents managed to skinny their way right past his belt and into the most unusual briefcase I’ve ever heard tell of.

Of course, the libs are putting their usual spin on it, whining “Foul! Foul!” and claiming suspicious timing in relation to the release of the 9/11 commission’s report in a couple of days.  Of course, there was nothing suspicious about the timing of Clinton’s overseas bomb raids and the Lewinsky matter here at home.  No, siree . . .

Maybe the Republicans are playing dirty pool, and I say, “It’s about damned time!”  A huge part of the party’s problem is that they’ve always played by the rules, gentlemen’s rules, and they always get burned.  While I have to confess that I would prefer that we could all behave like gentlemen and women, some of the folks across the aisle just won’t allow it.  And so I say, take off the gloves, and let’s have at it!  Knock some of that snide attitude out of Daschle and his ilk and get on with the business of the country . . . confirm some judges (I hear that yet another has been blocked, and this one because he didn’t sit around the environmental campfire singing Kumbaya . . . ), do away with our insane tax code and come up with something that doesn’t have a majority of the tax department’s employees as puzzled as the rest of us.  There are many more things I could list, but I have to go now.  I’ve got appointments tomorrow and I need to get some sleep!