These days, it's not easy being the wife of a plutocratic sociopath who is seeking a political office. Consider the plight of Ann Romney...
Ann's husband Willard has had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week. To compound matters, this was supposed to be the week of Mitt's glorious reboot. Mitt's reboot week was derailed by a video surreptitiously recorded at a $50,000/head fundraiser, no doubt by a scurrilous, low-class server. Just imagine, a perfidious prole had the temerity to violate the confidentiality of quiet rooms, the Seal of the Boardroom as sacred as that of the confessional! Poor Ann had to take time from her busy schedule to inform the slack-jawed troglodytes that Mitt doesn't hold them in the disdain that they so truly deserve.
To compound matters, even though she'd never admit it in public, Ann can't be happy about her husband's lack of confidence in her appeal to human beings. One can't let a trivial thing like self-respect crack one's "Stepford wife" facade. If she can convince herself that Mitt doesn't disdain the poor, she can convince herself that Mitt doesn't disdain her.
As if things weren't bad enough, she also had to chide other Republicans, who should feel lucky that one so one Mighty and Strong would deign to run under the mantle of the GOP. Here's a word of advice to stupid Peggy Noonan- just drink and drink until Mitt becomes indistinguishable from the Sainted Ronnie Raygun. You owe it to Mitt, you antiquated hack.
If the media and the GOP establishment don't knuckle under and kiss Mitt's ass in public, Queen Ann's revenge is not going to be pretty. Already, things are building to a head- she's got so much smoke billowing out of her nostrils that she forced a charter plane to land prematurely.
POSTSCRIPT: I don't know what the hell is up with Blogger- I actually had paragraph breaks in this post. To get an idea of what the post is supposed to look like, it's cross-posted at Rumproast.