“You go out there,” a friend of my father’s once related, “and you think you’re the surest thing ever. ‘Mayor,’ people everywhere start calling you, and you say to yourself, This is it. I’ve got this in the bag. Then voting time rolls around — and… nothing. Where was the love?”
Girl, for your consideration; I hear you’re looking to move up in that crazy world. You got cheek, though — I have to give you at least that, no thanks necessary.
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