T'was the night before the election and all through the house
All the eyeballs were rolling at poor Ann Althouse.
All the bloggers were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of linkfests danced in their heads.
When in The New Yorker there arose such a clatter
The bloggers all sprang to see what was the matter.
When what to their wondering eyes did appear
but a drunken law teacher and eight tiny "hear, hear!"s
She was blond with a page-boy, a right jolly old prof
And I laughed when I saw her in spite of myself.
She spoke many words, going straight to her work
And filled all her posts with ideas from jerks.
And then tipping her wineglass to empty last drops,
she blogged that Obama will persecute sops.
And I heard her exclaim as she faded from sight,
Obama is wired! I saw with my sight!