Full Moon Over Whackadoodle

If you attempt to meet with 5th Dist. Congressprotoplasm Virginia Foxx during her extended vacation, you'll be talking to yourself or to a heroically under-informed 20-something staffer who'll promise to pass on your concerns to the Congresswoman, just prior to throwing those concerns into the trash as soon as you leave the office. Meanwhile, Madam Foxx is allegedly loading and unloading her Maytag, doing several months' worth of dirty laundry.

While rolling stones gather no moss, a rolling log of right-wing nougat will gather every nut. As Foxx was not making herself available in her North Carolina district, or running backward at the approach of any little ole Democratic constituent who looks more or less warm to the touch, she had plenty of time to howl at the moon last night with fellow coyote Michelle Bachmann in Minnesota, where (thankfully) no one knows who the hell she is and she is free to scold women who open their legs and stoopidly get pregnant. "You're just going to have to have those babies, because The Pope told me so, you sluts!"

It's a burden, being an icon of the extreme right. So time-consuming. And a strain to your moral superiority.