Mean Woman Blues

Don't you dare talk to Karl Rove about heartache. He knows all about heartache. You know that redheaded vixen Maureen Dowd? Huh. Sadly, neither does Karl Rove. I mean, really know her. "I actually went to an editorial board meeting at The New York Times," the man once semi-affectionately known as Turd Blossom tells FOX News, causing shudders throughout the newsroom. "[I] wasted a couple bucks on some flowers to give Maureen Dowd ... give her a smile on her face. And that didn't even work," he continues, his face the forlorn essence of his sadly spurned desire. "This is a dour, downbeat liberal." So sad. So lonely. So tragically forlorn with naught but pudding in his pants. "I think Maureen Dowd is a bitter, twisted, deranged columnist for The New York Times who misses no opportunity to show her disdain for the conservative side of the aisle," moans the crumpled man who once occupied the catbird cubicle on that aforementioned aisle, a cubicle whose gilded door the knocks now seldom sound. "You know, I feel like the late great Elvis Presley in that movie 'Loving You', where he goes to the supper club and sings his heart out and he dances up a storm, and you know, he still doesn't get the girl." Pausing, defeated. "Well, yeah, I guess he does, but it isn't until the very last reel."