10.03.2008

Furthermore, Sarah Palin...


I have a sort of fetish for Sarah Palin and it is not because she is hot, because she is not hot. It’s not because she’s potentially powerful, either. I have the same fetish for the like-minded idiot moms I see picking up their kids at school while I am there to get my kid. I want to fornicate with them because it would be the realest, dirtiest, nastiest, most pathetic piece of sex that they would ever have.

I have this weird suspicion that “soccer moms,” or on a more racist tip, “hockey moms,” have an actual living person deep in their gullets; a person with likes and dislikes that come from a place far beyond which reality show to watch and Jennifer Aniston. Deep down lives that girl who used to write poetry in her diary with amazing imagery and metaphors pulled from her backyard, and she didn’t care if it sounded corny because it came from an honest place inside of her and nobody was ever going to see it because it was written in her diary. A real, actual person made up of unprogrammable feelings and intellectual thoughts pulled down from unintelligence. It’s her carnal representative that gives her the raunchiest of her masturbatory fantasies—the ones where she gets invaded by a nasty whore of a dude who might have diseases and probably would steal some shit before leaving, but bones with such a lack of concern for her well being that she wouldn’t feel self-conscious about spraying him with all kinds of vaginal juices. Basically, a real individual not trained and tamed by years of social conditioning.

Whenever I talk to these women I feel like I am being judged for being pasty and tattooed (not badass tattoos like eagles or American flags or tribal arm bands, just stupid tattoos that actually mean something to me) but deep down they’re storing my image for when their husbands go to pool league and they’re left alone to drink half a bottle of Merlot, pop a few Xanax, and rub one out. They think of me coming to their house, eating the roast beef sandwich from husband’s lunch tin, and then whipping my dick out and saying some shit like “Get crazy.”

Also, another reason why I think I wanna bone down with Sarah Palin is because I am too poor for her politics to hurt me, at least so far as economics go, and so while she can’t really fuck me, I could fuck her. I didn’t have shit to begin with so the fact that the economy is fucking up only increases the already insurmountable probability that I will never get shit. But there’s no way I’d vote for Sarah Palin. I would never vote for someone with poor enough judgment to think of me when they masturbate.