Last year, former North Carolina Senator John Edwards was exposed as having an extramarital affair with filmmaker Rielle Hunter during his most recent presidential bid. After repeatedly denying allegations and engineering a massive cover up to avoid scandal, Edwards recently admitted to fathering a child with Hunter, his former campaign videographer, conceiving their love child while his now-deceased wife Elizabeth Edwards was undergoing treatment for ovarian cancer.
Normally it’s hard for me to get worked up over a little extracurricular marital fling, especially at the risk of simplifying such behavior by labeling it “wrong” or “weak,” or perpetuating our culture’s puritanical, obsessive attempts to pathologize human sexuality. Further, I don’t blame any person for trying to cover up private carnal exploits, knowing how unforgiving the public can be.
But, tonight, a few Wild Turkey shots and PBR chasers deep, I find myself in the mood to, ahem, lay some pipe. To take a stand. To hold you accountable, Senator, for your irresponsible actions.
Let me be clear, sir. Fuck whomever you want, whenever you want, however you want. You needed a little loving, maybe blow off some steam during a grueling pressure cooker of a presidential primary? I understand. You lied to protect your image and shelter your family or the Democratic Party from negative publicity? I get it. You even allegedly filmed a sex movie with Hunter, who was noticeably pregnant in the video—hell, I’d vote for that.
I do have one simple request, sir: Wear a fucking condom!
Bare-dicking? Really? In this day and age? With an exploding population moving towards critical mass and all kinds of funky venereal diseases floating out there? You have to be fucking kidding me. What kind of example are you setting, sir? Did your parents not sign the permission slip for your junior high sex ed. class? (Or, perhaps they taught abstinence-only in the bible-belted southern community of your youth?)
I’m sure Hunter wasn’t the only woman you slipped the high hard one while on the campaign trail. Did you bare-dick them, too, sir? I shutter to think of the crusty, viral stalagmites growing on the shaft of your manhood. C’mon, Senator. Too rich and powerful to get a venereal disease? You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned—at least when you pee. If you don’t care about your own health, bag it for the sake of the planet—or at the very least, pull out.
Frankly, Senator Edwards, I wouldn’t fuck you with Anne Coulter’s dick.
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