I can't control myself.
Tammy Bruce, introducing Ronna McDaniel tonight, as I'm listening to news:
"Chair of the Republican National Committee, Ronna McDonald."
I'm visualizing Golden Arches and thinly sliced french fries.
I'm alone, washing dishes, Maggie Rose and I almost roll, laughing. Even after a commercial break, I nearly snort, wondering how Tammy controls herself, because me? I would've had a very difficult time. But then again, I'm one who can be at a funeral or in church, and a thought runs through my brain, and I shake, trying not to laugh. So bad.
Cheeky broad.
There's bound to be a psychological condition in which this irreverence is addressed.
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