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Thursday, March 02, 2006

Don't pick up the soap, Congressman

As CHB awaits Rep. Randy Cunningham's sentencing -- the first in what promises to be a Niagara-like cascade of prison sentences coming down the Grand Old way -- he is reminded of an old story about the Dukestir's conception of self.

Soon after Cunningham piloted his way to a congressional seat, he took to dining out at House-side eateries and bars on the Hill. He relished his time at the head of such tables, enjoyed being the big man in D.C. And he didn't like to pay his tab. Even when a restaurant manager reached his congressional office to plea for remittance, Cunningham thundered ``Don't you know who i am?''

Soon, he'll be another convinct with a number. That's who he is.

Let's make sure the tide of corruption and lies is fully rolled back. And that means not being satisfied sweeping away merely the turdburglars like Cunningham, whose vanity and rotten soul played like nefarious drama on a high stage. There are still higher stages upon which even bolder acts of craven nogoodery were committed.


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