From McBeal to McDreamy

MoDo slept through another deadline, apparently watching television.

Maureen Dowd: From McBeal to McDreamy

As the administration has gotten more hypermasculine and martial, prime time is getting more feminine and seductive.

I hope the N.S.A. isn't tapping my phone at The Times, or tracing my calls, or whatever it calls its maniacal military-industrial civil liberties transgressions.

I'm not worried that it'll overhear meaty — or fishy — exchanges with sources at the Bush White House. I don't have any sources at the Bush White House. If I'm talking container problems, it's ice cream, not ports. If I mention Scooter, I'm merely making plans for a Saturday Vespa picnic.

Alas, I fret that Gen. Michael Hayden and Crazy Dick Cheney will not hear anything to make all their illegal snooping and Caine Mutiny-style hunting for leakers worthwhile.

Ummm, Ms. Dowd, I'm sure your phone calls were monitored, as were all journalists that the NSA could find.

Since I don't really watch television, I have no idea what Dowd goes on about, sorry. Look elsewhere

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This page contains a single entry by Seth A. published on May 17, 2006 7:44 AM.

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