Thanks to Dewey, it has come to my attention that my blog has been "sucking lately."

For this, I sincerely apologize. I understand that you are all paying good money for my insights and have come to expect a high standard of qua-OH WAIT YOU'RE NOT BITCHES.

Well if that's the way you feel about it, fine. Just remember, you think the blog sucks now? It could be a lot worse. I could always write like a six-year-old, bitches:

Today we met Mark Shields. It was nice. I liked it a lot. He had a lot. Of good things to say. He wore a nice tie. He wore glasses. He said John Kerry was Viet-nam veteran. He said this made a lot of people uncom-uncomf ... "uncomfor-table."

He said President Bush fought the Battle of Ama- Ama ... "Amarillo." Amarillo. While John Kerry was in Viet-nam. He made me laugh. It was nice.

He said the fill- the fill ... the fili- the fili-buster will be OK. It will be OK if Lin- ...Lin-coln Cha-fey if Lin-coln Chafey vot-ed for John Bol-ton. And if V-v-Voin... Voinovich vot-ed for Bol-ton. Then they can vote. For the filibuster.

I like Mark Shields. He is nice. He said there were no weapons of mass destruction. He said people tried to tell President Bush. But he said Mr. Bush wanted to go to war. He said one man in the Senate had a son. The son was in the army. He said nobody else in the Senate had a son. Who was in the army. But they made a lot of other sons go to the desert. They got hurt.

It was sad.

Then I went to the Mong- the Mong- ... the Mongerson Prize.

I saw my dean. He never comes to see us. He made me feel weird. He asked us how much we paid for the lunch. He thought he was funny. He made me feel mad. My friend Hugh told him "we paid tuition." He made me laugh.

They talked about Newsweek. They said it was bad. It made me sad.

Then I met Tom Rosentiel. It was good. He wrote Elements of Journalism. He wanted to make journalism good. I was in a elevate-or. With Tom Rosentiel. It made me scared. I felt throw-uppy.

Just remember this the next time you talk about my blog sucking, bitches. As any of my exes can attest, six-year-old Dickie is never too far away...