As he lurches toward November, McCain’s Palin experience is the political equivalent of a lost college weekend—that wacky, self-indulgent party where you tied one on and spent the night with the wrong date. It’s fun for a moment. But then comes morning and a hangover and—oh no—the wrong person is still there.
You wake up with her head on your arm and chew your arm off to get away so you won't wake her.
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