Peg can’t stay sober long enough to write a proper speech. She probably shares a bar stool with George Will.
Peg probably sits all afternoon in a darkened bar sipping white wine and writing voluminous, embellished, and flowery prose that no one will ever read because it never leads anywhere, getting drunker and drunker and dreaming of days that are gone forever.
Or sharing a bar stool, crying in their beers, with the .... dumped MoDo ...