Being my private secretary is not a job for the faint-hearted, and mine is as tough as nails. But even she has her limits, and those were nearly breached on Friday afternoon, when, between meetings, she knocked on my office door with a well-controlled “Mr. Collins? May I come in?” that was, nonetheless, just a… Continue reading Al-Maliki and the Forty Thousand Thieves
Author: tomcollins
Reverse Poll-ish Conflation
I was preparing for orals on a proposal this morning when my private secretary rang to say that Miller from the Pentagon desperately needed to talk to me. I didn’t have much time, but Miller’s organization has been a pretty good client, and, as they say, a bird in the hand is worth two in… Continue reading Reverse Poll-ish Conflation
Rat Deserts Sinking Ship of State
Usually, I make my own coffee in the morning, but on nights when I sleep over at Cerise’s place, we get our breakfast pick-me-up at an espresso bar near where she lives. She had just hurried off to work and I was almost finished with my quad neat espresso and a decent almond croissant, when… Continue reading Rat Deserts Sinking Ship of State
Baked Brains Sink Campaigns
We have a saying here in the Nation’s Capital that the difference between Hell and Washington, DC in the summer is that Hell has dry heat. Truth be told, thanks to global warming, the winters here have been getting warmer for decades and, with that strange paradoxical quality with which that phenomenon affects such things,… Continue reading Baked Brains Sink Campaigns
At Least He Can Pronounce “Nuclear”
As has been usual for a while now, my brother Rob Roy and my nephew Jason dropped by at eleven on Saturday and I proceeded give Jason his weekly cooking lesson. The lad’s been picking it up quite well, I must say. Last week, for example, he made mayonnaise from scratch, using organic eggs, yellow Umbrian… Continue reading At Least He Can Pronounce “Nuclear”