Well, Shanoah, I’d like to follow up on your post. But I can’t. Otherwise, I couldn’t share this.
“Oh yes oh dear sweet Jesus she’s going to the podium she’s turning around oh my God look at the political assets on her oh yeah Johnny boy likes him some back yeah he likes him that naughty librarian look and he loves him some vice-presidential badonkadonk oh yeah you mighta come in second for Miss Alaska but you’re number one in my pants!”
Methinks McCain’s contemplating a little JFK action in the Oval Office. (I’ll give that a moment to sink in… EEEEEWWWWWWWW! Old President Sex!)
And look at him playing his wedding ring. Is it a bit tight all of a sudden, John? Suddenly old whatserface Cindy’s looking a little long in the tooth? “If it wasn’t for the money, dammit, if it wasn’t for the goddammed money I’d pull a Newt Gingrich on the old battleaxe and run off with the first piece of strange that crossed my well helloooooo Mrs. Presumptive Vice President. Turn around so I can get a feel for your well-rounded, um, qualifications.”
Yes, we’re laughing at you, John. We’re laughing at you the same way we’d laugh at a sanctimonious, Bible-thumping friend if we caught him pitching a pup tent for Lindsey Lohan. You’re not a pillar of morality. You’re not a bastion of Family Values, whatever those are. You’re just another randy old married man who’s on the lookout for some strange.
You’re anatomically correct. You’ve got a penis and, theoretically at least, some balls attached to them pumping out testosterone. You’re human. You’re fallible. We understand. The Family Values crowd might not. But we do.
And yes, Sarah Palin’s kinda hot… in a weekend local news anchor MILF kinda way. Takes all kinds to perpetuate the species, and I think we just found out your kind, John… or at least your kind for this week.
Only for the love of the gods, John… not with the vice president. And please please please don’t tell me this is the start of some twisted harem hunt for you, with you filling your cabinet posts with the highly qualified women at SluttyLibrarians.com:
“Secretary of Education Bubbles? Assistant Undersecretary of State Foxxxy? We need to have a private conference… in the Lincoln Bedroom.”
Please John. The corpses of the Founding Fathers are already spinning so fast that half of them have disappeared into the Phantom Zone. I don’t need this. I don’t need George Washington and the Continental Army rising up, Night of the Living Dead-style, and laying siege to Washington, DC while you play Hide Charlie in the Tunnel with with your number two. Because they will, John. They were okay with JFK and Marilyn Monroe because she wasn’t the vice president. They were okay with Clinton and Monica Lewinsky because she was just an intern. This’ll just send them right over the edge.
And dude… if you must, please demonstrate a little more discretion, hm? Just sneak a peek. No head movement. No gaze locks over half a second. No itchy wedding finger. Women are already incensed that you chose some unqualified pro-gun pro-life “hockey mom” bimbo for your second-in-command. Best if you don’t let on why you chose her.