Please don't insult hardworking janitors. I was once one myself.
Rather, in some other life, Nancy would be a cheap, loud, guffawing floozy bellied up to the bar, smelling of cigarettes, drunk, with deep red lipstick smeared on her face.
Harry Reid would be in a sweltering, tiny non-air-conditioned office of a used car dealership, baking in the noon sun, in Searchlight, NV, desperately trying to cheat some poor, unsuspecting customer into buying an old beater car in which Harry had surreptitiously rolled back the odometer.
LOL (Pelosi): you mean like Maureen Dowd. A bitter old POS.
Perfect! You should be an author.
Pre-celebrant swines who prey on unwitting customers to make them celebrate honesty where there is none.
These peace and optimism swines are a blasphemer to true peace and God.