Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before. Bloggers, always getting down to work in their pajamas. With tacky, fluffy bunny slippers, quaffing ranch dressing right out of the bottle as they issue their diatribes. Okay, okay. I hear you shouting, “Enough already.” It’s a cliché, to be sure, but the last time I checked, a Google fight between “bloggers and pajamas” and “bloggers and three-piece suits with stylish wingtips” was a decided rout in favor of the hoary old chestnut.

So, to all of you out there in the blogosphere who are keeping things slovenly, consider how Washington DC’s most illustrious resident,
President Bush, raised the bar over the weekend. Hurried back to the White House from vacation in anticipation of a piece of legislation that would seek to prolong the life of the inert pawn in the right-to-die Deathmatch, Terri Schiavo, the President was awakened at 1:11 in the morning to make with the John Hancocking. The White House Press Corps, in the typical way they go after the big story, were quick to pounce on the notion that the President affixed his signature while wearing something with footies.