I can just picture the big man going down his to-do list between double quarter pounders: "....count my moles, perm the hair on my back, ah, here it is, give a rat's ass what Meghan McCain thinks...":
M&M is only over Double-C if she's been devouring triple quarter pounders with a backhoe, and I'm pretty sure McDonalds doesn't offer those, or they wouldn't have killed the Angus Third Pounder, the bastards. Although it does appear that she's been living on the dollar menu, at the very least.
I'd love to see if Piers Morgan actually asked Darth Queeg's Failure To Make A Run To The Drug Store just exactly how "pushing one's agenda" is automatically mutually exclusive from "supporting one's party," except for, you know, Piers Morgan. He probably spent the whole interview attempting his "Davie Jones in the Monkees era" impression. Because, you know, unlike British women, M&M doesn't have Ferengi teeth.
Okay, I can't completely bury M&M (unless I can borrow the governor's backhoe); her January 2011 crack to Lawrence O'Donnell about Michele Bachmann being a "poor man’s Sarah Palin" (and even more annoying) was pretty good. So much so that I'd be reluctant to break it to her that there won't be a 2016 election because Barack Obama is never leaving. Maybe just an urge to grab some Angry Whoppers while she still can; you can get those in triples.