My mother, a Quaker, likes to tell the story of when I was a baby and she took me to meeting (Quaker version of church) on Sunday. I fussed, she took me out for a minute and fed me, and then after she brought me back in I let loose the most uneuphonious fart that place has ever heard.

I mean... this isn’t isolated to Carly Fiorina. My boss used to be a consultant for Dems and progressives (including working with ACORN, once upon a time) and the other day I saw him walking out of the office with a hand-addressed envelope. Turns out one of his old clients finally got back to him to pay an invoice…