Last week a photo of Bill Clinton posing with some porn stars turned up.
In a related story, a photo has emerged of The Pope with some Catholics.
As some of you may recall, Bill Clinton was once President of The United States and became famous for splooging his man-spunk on hapless passers-by in The White House, notably a female intern and God knows who all else.
There are “sexual indiscretions” and then there’s your man-spunk flying willy-nilly through the air and getting on stuff.
Jizz globules dangling from The Presidential Seal in The Oval Office.
Man-goo run amok in high places.
Natural porn leader. Leader of porn.
There’s “keep that thing in your pants” and then there’s “keep that stuff in your thing.”
There’s a time to ejaculate, a time to refrain from ejaculation. A time to laugh, a time to cry. A time to legislate, a time to self-manipulate. A time to govern, a time to git it on with the governess.
A time to reap, a time to blow.
If the help regularly needs squeegee’d, it’s time to “curb your enthusiasm” so to speak.
A stain on your reputation shouldn’t really involve a stain. Secretions should be secret. A place for every spermatozoa, and every spermatozoa in its place. “UFO” should never stand for “Unspeakable Flying Object.” And some say this President is “spend-crazy?
“White House staff should be able to perform their duties without fear of “friendly fire,” if you get my drift.
Nor should they have to pay for their own Woolite.
Increasingly, Democratic administrations appear awfully preoccupied with seminal fluid in one way or another.
Keep Austin weird, not The Executive Branch. Keep your rocket in your pocket. We don’t want to hear about “Mah fuse iz lit!” Do that crazy hand jive on your own time. Make war, not love in your case.
Take your wife. Please.
There’s a time for going bomp shicka bomp she bomp bomp with some roadhouse gin-soaked floozy and a time for getting some bills through Congress.
Sploogegate ushered in a minefield of double-entendre on Capitol Hill.
“Mr. President, need you to familiarize yourself with your staff. NOOOOO!”
A skeeved nation would learn way too much about The First Schvantz. Far more than it’s ever known about any Republican’s shtüptagazoit.
Get a room. Or use the broom closet in The House Of Representatives.
Nor should the words “sweet, sweet jellyroll” or “hot petootie pie” ever be uttered in The Oval Office.
Nor should Barry White be playing.
The pages of The Constitution should not be stuck together.
There’s a time and a place to pitch a wang dang doodle all night long, and a time to tend to the matters that make this country great.
Mister President, tear down this porn.