My usual loathing and contempt for him aside, I kinda feel sorry for Sean Spicer this week. And it's only Tuesday.
All is forgiven though if he has a full-sequin drama-queen meltdown within the next 24 hours. And I mean FULL: smeared mascara, more-debilitating-than-usual incoherency, rended garments and visible evidence of vital organs hemorrhaging out of at least one above-the-neck orifice. Or no deal.
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