Why is it that after reading this column, I couldn't shake the image of an exhausted Rich Lowry, panting atop a freshly thrashed pile of straw, furtively glancing around to see if anyone was watching?
Why is it that after reading this column, I couldn't shake the image of an exhausted Rich Lowry, panting atop a freshly thrashed pile of straw, furtively glancing around to see if anyone was watching?
