Finally, Gary Legum gets to Peggy Noonan—it was worth the wait, from:

She ground her teeth as she dumped Alka-Seltzer into her gin, sending waves of liquor splashing over the lip of the glass and along her wrist. She paid no attention as she lifted the glass and drops of gin ran down her arm, soaking the sleeve of her dressing gown…

to

She came to hours later, flat on the floor of her parlor, covered in shattered glass and gin. Her trusty Underwood still sat on her desk, a page of good American paper stock jutting up from it like a white flag. The remnants of a dream, something about having a conscience and making a choice, floated in her skull for just a moment before slipping off into the mists. She shuddered at the horror. Then she hollered for her house-boy Manuel. She was going to need help off the floor and a fresh drink, for she had a column to finish.

wonkette.com

Nobody does it better. (I’m sure Maureen Dowd will have some equally shrill screed this weekend, but for now…)