Foreign Affairs Minister
I don't know who's a dog. But I do know who's a pussy.
Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay, for one, presently licking his balls back in Nova Scotia — though not dolefully, in the midst of a potato patch, for which we are all extremely grateful — and denying that he ever growled a juvenile remark in the direction of Belinda Stronach, or at least her unoccupied seat in the House of Commons.
And — meow-meow — every one of the Liberal politicians who verily choked on their polemical furballs yesterday, constructing mangy furor out of what was no more than a fleabite, hardly the most offensive remark to emerge from the lowbrow discourse of Question Period.
Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay, for one, presently licking his balls back in Nova Scotia — though not dolefully, in the midst of a potato patch, for which we are all extremely grateful — and denying that he ever growled a juvenile remark in the direction of Belinda Stronach, or at least her unoccupied seat in the House of Commons.
And — meow-meow — every one of the Liberal politicians who verily choked on their polemical furballs yesterday, constructing mangy furor out of what was no more than a fleabite, hardly the most offensive remark to emerge from the lowbrow discourse of Question Period.
