'Hillary was coming up the steps to my front door. In a panic, realizing I was wearing a big tin Obama button, I dashed toward the back of the house, yelling to my kids to waylay her. I didn't want her to see that I'd made the decision to support her opponent. I darted out to the back porch while hastily plastering something over my Obama pin so I could neutrally greet my high-profile visitor. As Hillary came into the front hall, I realized I'd pasted over my Obama pin with an Obama sticker.'
*
'I am inside a house, crouched behind a filing cabinet, rifle in hand. I rise up and fire, hitting my targets -- two women, one I can't identify, the other is Hillary. The first woman drops dead, but Hillary is only wounded and turns to me and returns fire. I duck, rise up again and discover I am out of ammo. I spin away, panicked. Hillary comes after me, stalking me. Then it occurs to me that I can run. I escape out the back door, relieved but not completely. I have a sense that the fight is not over.'
*
'Last night I dreamed my head was resting on Hillary Clinton's thigh, her left one, as we were riding in the back of her car. She was wearing sunglasses, the big, round kind, and didn't take them off even though I wanted her to. She brought her hand down to my cheek as I nuzzled into her jeans.'
-- from i dream of hillary: real dreams people have had about hillary clinton.
-- michelle tea, the chelsea whistle
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