Maureen Dowd’s latest entry begins with a lengthy, rambling, do-I-really-have-to-write-800-whole-words-this-week anecdote about how she can’t bear to be alone in public but had to in Paris recently and went out with an J. Crew branded onion on her belt which apparently isn’t the style at the time although she was assured that it was, which leads us to the most perfect Maureen Dowd sentence ever:
I was armed with a bunch of newspapers, so I could pretend to study up on the Brexit vote convulsing Europe.
Her terror of eating alone forced her to take an extreme measure she would otherwise never consider: reading a newspaper. But, don’t worry, she was just “pretending” to learn something about Brexit, which she then goes on to opine about by talking to some random people and finding out that they confirm what ever superficial theater-critic idea she had to begin with. Maurren Dowd is paid a six-figure salary, ostensibly to write about politics.