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Wednesday, February 20, 2008


A LOVE LETTER TO AMY HOLMES

We haven't even cleared February yet and not only am I bored with the presidential election, I'm bored of writing about it. Of course, this will likely change by the end of the week when somebody gets me good and pissed off.

I'd like to write about the not-particularly stunning departure of Fidel Castro from the political scene, but I'm too tired to think that much. Besides, my thoughts on Cuba would probably infuriate pretty much everyone and would certainly involve my saying "Oh, grow the fuck up" about 32 times.

While I'm bored with the election, I can never grow weary of the television coverage of it. And for that coverage, you really can't beat CNN. And I don't say that just because I'd really enjoy punching everybody on FOX News in the face. The fact is that you just can't beat watching Larry King getting all confused and giving shout-outs to Abbott and Costello when he interviews Barack Obama.

Mostly, I love CNN's election coverage because CNN hired Amy Holmes and I am in love with Amy Holmes. There, I said it. And I feel better for having said it.

As I write this, I'm watching Larry's panel essentially burying the hopes and dreams of Hillary Clinton forever and I find myself with a broken heart and a painful erection. And not just because Hillary's dream has essentially died. No, my body and soul have been rendered asunder because Amy Holmes is reading the eulogy. Unless you're a man, you'll never know how it feels to weep as you beat off, so I won't bother explaining it to you.

Ms. Holmes is one of the most stunning women around. Firstly, she's got incredible eyes I think that I've ever seen and a mouth that makes mine water. She's also pretty goddamn smart and knows her way around an electoral map. Just seeing Amy Holmes keeps me up and night thinking of ways to be a better man while wanting to die because I know that I never will.

I'm a fairly quirky guy in that in I love to argue about politics with beautiful women, mostly because it makes them think that I'm not actually retarded and therefore more than just a piece of meat. Of course, I could stop the man-meat perception by not parading through my day in nothing more than a gold g-string, but I'm awfully stubborn sometimes.

I have three distinct disadvantages when arguing about politics with beautiful women.

Firstly, I'm not especially smart.

Secondly, as an exceptionally ugly man, I'm not particularly used to beautiful women paying very much attention to me. When they challenge me on a point with any amount of vigor, I get confused and invariably ejaculate in my gold g-string, which inevitably ends the debate.

Thirdly, I love beautiful women a whole lot more than I love politics. I'm not going to deny that I've laid awake at night masturbating to Watergate tape transcripts, but that doesn't mean that I'm necessarily proud of it. But I really do prefer women.

Here's how most of my political arguments with beautiful women go;

Me: "Ahh, but you forget that during the McKinley-Bryan race in 1896 that...

Beautiful Woman: "Your meaningless rhetoric has grown wearisome. Shut up and lick me."

The debate remains unresolved, but we usually end up happier than two people can be without schedule one drugs.

I don't think that a debate with Amy would even last that long. I think all it would take for her to win would be for her to lock those gorgeous eyes on mine and my soul would be destroyed and my heart would stop. I'd be dead by the time I hit the floor and she would likely take a valedictory pee on me. The CSI unit would be initially confused, but once the case was resolved, the city would hold a parade for Amy Holmes.

Also, Ms. Holmes graduated from Princeton, whereas my greatest academic accomplishment was being the only person I know to drop out of both high school and college.

But I would have one advantage over Amy. You see, she used to be a speechwriter for Bill Frist.

Frist was a good man, don't get me wrong. As an accomplished surgeon, he was the go-to guy if you found yourself in the Capitol having a coronary or getting shot in the chest. The problem was that he wasn't very good at leading the senate majority, which was sort of his primary job.

That alone wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. The history of the United States Senate is littered with horrible majority leaders who often did well for themselves. After all, Robert Byrd still has a job.

However, somewhere along the line, Dr. Frist got it into his head that he could become the President of the United States through a mechanism other than that of multiple assassinations. At that point he started doing crazy shit like diagnosing Terri Schiavo using nothing more than the magic of videotape. As I remember it, he actually cleared her to be on the starting line-up of the '95 Miami Dolphins.

The fact that the team of doctors who had been treating Mrs. Schiavo for years disagreed mattered not at all to the great man. And now I don't think most reasonable people would take an aspirin from Bill Frist.

That would be the coup de grace in any political debate I had with the lovely Ms. Holmes. I could look deep into her perfect eyes and end any dispute with the simple phrase "It is my considered medical opinion that Terri Schiavo is a perfect candidate for the 2008 Olympic gymastics team!"
To be sure, it would take any number of hours of licking to make up for winning so dirtily, but I'd gladly do it. Mostly because I love Amy Holmes, but partially because I would at long last be victorious!

Amy and I would be so happy together if only God didn't hate me so much.

By the way, am I the only one who has noticed that people in the Capitol stopped having heart attacks and gunshot wounds once Frist left? Just a thought.

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Hate it When You Leave By: Keith Richards & the Xpensive Winos From: Main Offender




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12:36 AM