But what I notice about myself only on reflection, Ann Coulter seemed to recognize and respond to in an instant, like a puma recognizes an injured giselle. For Ann Coulter is a predator. A predator with a hungry asshole.

'The Grapes of Wrath, huh?’

'Yes’ I said, faking composure. ‘It’s fantastic.’

‘It’s a fantastic primer for vacuous proto-Communists everywhere,’ she said dismissively.

‘I don’t know about that…’

She sighed. ‘I don’t have enough ink in my pen to keep a running list of what you don’t know. May I?’

Definitely on point.

Speaking of, she’s been very quiet during Trump 2.0. What’s she up to these days? And does she still return to that farmers market longing for the one who got away?