Dear John,
I don’t know what has happened to me, and I’m embarrassed to ask my friends.
Opinion
Squawking about the nation’s debt after your party spent like drunk sailors on leave is like eating a rib-eye at Ruth’s Chris, then planting a fly under the bone to get a free meal. You ordered and ate the steak, sir. Yes, but I didn’t order the fly that came with it, and don’t you think your prices are obscene?
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