Hot damn. Looks like my Valentine’s Day dreams are going to come true, thanks to the top-notch management staff down at Pete’s Poontang Emporium.
First, a bit of background. Like most red-blooded G.O.P. males, I have an immense, boner-popping crush on the woman who shall surely be America’s 45th president: former Alaskan Governor Sarah Palin. Talk about the complete package — taut buttocks, pillowy breasts, seductive smile, whorish wink, and a hatred for the liberal agenda that knows no equal. And those glasses. God, how I long to splash those things with…
Ahem. Got a little out of control there. Anyhow, it turns out that the Emporium was able to track down not one, but two Sarah Palin impersonators for my entertainment, and they should be here any minute. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to gobble down a large dose of Viagra.
Not that I’m afraid I won’t be able to perform without it, mind you. I just want to make sure that both of those beauties go home feeling as if they’ve given birth to little retarded babies of their own. Ciao.