Double Date

Thank you for the warm welcome back, those of you were informed, those of you who dropped in unexpectedly, and you few who were passing by and wandered in. We owe a special thank you to the young lady who pointed out there was no way to subscribe to the blog. Now there is, at the very bottom of the page.

Some of you were annoyed that there was no place for comments. It’s not that I’m not interested in your opinions – you know how I hang on your every word (don’t you wish literally), but I never liked orgies. I like my contacts one at a time. I like a lot of space around us, we two, so we can get to know each other without being poked and prodded by the couple or trio next to us. And I’m possessive. I don’t like my contacts contacting each other – not in front of me, or behind my back. I like discretion, in the sense of separateness, apartness, not in the sense of good manners. But maybe they come down to the same thing.

I’m now about to throw manners out the window, and get down and dirty about something I want you all to think about it, and that is, Do You Really Want Hillary as Vice President? I know you think you do, those of you who want the party to continue (and you can take that party as the Democrats, or the blast they’ve been throwing for us. But think of the implications. Will Michelle be able to take hot Hillary as second in command? Won’t she resent their private rendezvous, their tete-a-tetes? Will the two little girls, fresh out of their baths and dressed in their jammies look at Daddy and say, “Daddy, are you going out with Mrs. Clinton again tonight? You have Mommy, don’t you?” Indeed. You have Mommy. Why do you need another second in command?

And there’s Bill. You haven’t forgotten about Bill, have you, because that would be a mistake. Bill is never quiet. He never rests. His brain is always in a ferment, always probing every situation to see how he can insinuate his big talent. Bill is, first and foremost, a ladies’ man. The man has no hang-ups about sex. He loves the dollies – black, white and yellow, and if they come in any other flavors, he’ll order up one of each right now. Hillary’s finding some excuse to be with her beautiful black boss every night. He pictures poor Michelle sitting alone in front of the telly, her long, lanky limbs draped over the chair…why not give her a buzz, ask if she’s got anything on tonight and whether or not it could be him. And why wouldn’t she go? Show that man of hers a thing or two, and let the blonde, brazen hussy know that two can play the same game. Like they’ve got such critical things to talk about. Who do they think they are?

Gotta happen, right? You know it. And Hillary will completely remake the boy wonder. She’ll be his new spiritual leader – the woman who knows more than he does and doles it out by the spoonful. Their first tour was a big hit. The second campaign would be another. My bet is, they’ll never stop touring. As a team, they’ll tour the globe, playing every major city in the world. When their terms are over, they’ll go to Vegas and play the big rooms for big bucks. When that wears thin, they’ll settle into a lounge show for a long retirement. That’s if they’ve managed to fix Social Security.