I know, I know. There's the tax bill, and the whole Michael Flynn shitstorm. A world of horrors out there. The physical press sometimes exists in the spaces between the grinding gears of the modern news cycle. Say goodbye to Jim Nabors. Consider the complexities of transnational family life. We'll get to that other stuff tomorrow, I promise.
And if you really need to laugh at a picture of Michael Flynn being served up for dinner, I'll refer you to my drawing from 24 November.
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