Bachmann Seizes Bush: Even I Think That's Disgusting
Everybody's sending me disgusting pictures of my Congresswoman feeling up the President of the United States and grabbing him and shmooshing his lips and spreading herself all over him--yuuchh!
Please, no more! No more pictures like that in my mailbox, it makes my skin crawl... Trying to fulfill her sexual fantasies at the State of the Union speech; how weird is that? There's a "Letter To Penthouse" I never wanted to read:
"
"Dear Editors:
"I always thought your Letters to Penthouse Forum were made up until I had the most erotic experience of my life last week."
I hold a position of great responsibility in Washington, D.C. (My advisers say it would not be wise to tell you exactly what the nature of my job is.) Anyway, I had just finished delivering my State of the Union Address and was walking down the aisles, glad-handing Congressmen and signing Senators' programs, when all of the sudden this really hot fifty-year old in a tight white cocktail dress reached out and grabbed me."
"Even though I am married and have kids, this gave me a hard-on you could drive a nail with! A hot grandma, grabbing me in public, with the nation's news cameras rolling on us--and this aging mother of five biological kids and twenty-three foster kids just refused to let go! She gotta have it! As my good friend Tony Blair would say: "YEAH, BABY!" She was comin' on like she wanted to do me right there on the Capitol floor! It was a little embarrassing, because my wife and her husband and constituents were watching."
"But I was never so hard in my life, not since I stopped doing coke. Then this chick--I'll call her "Maybelle"--grabs a hold of me and rubs up against me and gives me the hottest lip action I ever got from any elected official, anywhere (except maybe Norm Coleman.) It took all my self-control not to shoot my wad right there and then, all over Daniel Webster's old desk."
"She slipped her phone number into my mouth with her tongue, the horny little minx. I know it's wrong, but maybe one night soon I'll give her a call and we'll get in the back of the Presidential limo and I'll whip out Little George and the Twins so she can--"
EEeeeyeeew! No more, no more, please. Get me out of here, now, let's talk about economics or something.
posted by Prendergast @ 9:30 PM
8 comments
8 Comments:
I swear, she's an aggresive one! Maybe George has a secret fetish for dominant chicks, Laura doesn't seem like she'd be too passive in the sack...
Please, stop it, you're grossing me out--the mental picture of Michele and George doing the nasty--it's just...Eeeyew!
I don't care for Bachmann in the slightest but I care even less for your crude characterization of the whole ridiculous event.
Seems you have this fixation about talking about genitals - first the thing about your dog taking advantage of you and now this?
Might want to think about that a bit more. 3 such articles in a year (if you write another one) and someone might think your hangup is getting a bit out of control.
It IS out of control, that's why people come here.
If Bachmann grabs the President of the United States or if my dog bites me on the old Sperminator, that's news; and making fun of the news is why I'm here. This is not Op-Ed page of the New York Times, you know. People have genitals here.
If it makes you feel any better, my other dog also bit me on the cock this week and I let that pass without so much a murmur on this blog. But now that you've raised the subject, I will tell you quite candidly that it hurt this time, too.
The bite I received some months ago from the first dog, Dante, resulted in a trip to the emergency ward and a course of anti-biotics. This time around the offender was my second dog, Mr. X, who was playing with a chew toy in my lap while I was watching reality TV.
Mr. X bit down hard on the toy and (entirely unintentionally) penetrated my trousers as well, treating the encased viands as roughly as if they were dried leather. My startled cry as I ejected him was heard in the streets of New Orleans, a city still reeling from the horrors of Katrina. No treats for Mr. X that night.
Thank you for reminding me.
I think if Bachmann wants to impress moderates, she needs to stop kissing presidents and start finding a cure to this dog-on-groin violence.
Nobody cares about us dog-on-groin guys. All the big money goes to breast cancer and AIDs research. We don't have a "pride parade" or "survivor" support groups.
I don't write to my Congresswoman about this because I already know what her answer would be: "More government is not the solution. The free market will eventually take care of it, if only big government would get out of the way."
Get some professional help. If not for you, then at least for your sexually abused dogs.
And you're critisizing Bachman? Whoa.
The best you can seem to come up with is a lot of preoccupation with your dogs and your crotch? No wonder you got booted from the Gazette.
Why don't you grab the situation squarely in hand (and in private), relieve a little tension, fantasize all you want about Bachman and then find something worthy to write about?
Hey, get it straight!
1)It's the dogs that are "abusing" me, not the other way around.
2) I didn't bring up the subject of the dogs and my crotch, that was another anonymous reader who was mad about the letter Bush wrote to Penthouse, where he refers to his private parts as "Little George and the Bush Twins."
3) And it's "Bachmann", with two "n's", not "Bachman". And she spells "Michelle" with one "l".
4) Contrary to your snide insinuation, I never wrote about my dogs or my crotch when I was at the Gazette. That would have been in bad taste.
5) Most of the material on this blog has nothing to do with dogs biting me in the crotch, and you know it and I know it and everyone knows it. Look through our vast archives, you'll find a preponderance of the items--indeed, the overwhelming majority--have nothing to do with dogs biting crotches. I refuse to admit to your patently unfair characterization.
6) Your suggestion is disgusting. I would never "seek relief" in the way you suggest, by fantasizing about any serving member of the United States Congress. Not with these dogs hanging around here all the time, that's for sure.
Well, I guess I told him off.
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