...and now she's waking up with a vicious hangover. The details of last night are kind of fuzzy- a national lapse in judgment- and in the harsh morning light, Obama does not appear as he did in her addled memory. He's not cute at all. In fact, he's gross! It's hard for her to reconcile the smooth-talking player who seduced her with the disingenuous and unsubstantial man she woke up with, and she wonders if the unfortunate events of last night have left the bastard child of tomorrow growing inside her. She asks, "What was I thinking?"
Eric Holder and all of this disgraceful business with the CIA are nothing but a hair of the Dog cure for the national hangover. He sees regret on her face, she's shaky and nauseous, he pours her another drink, "Remember last night?"
I say kick him out, sober up, and get yourself tested, America.