Dear Readers and Breeders:
I believe we have made a giant step forward in our plot to ruin BM.
My dear husband, Rick, reminded me earlier today that since we are Godless, sex-addled, drug-snorting, pederastic heathen, we are not bound by the rules of morality or ethical strictures. As long as we observe the sacred tenets such as not wearing white after Labor Day, we can do whatever we please.
That’s when I realized that I was going to have a wild night with Rick… Santorum. That’s right. I was hunting the big kahuna of the GOPrimaries. And when I finished with him, his marriage would be toast. And then I could marry him as well as my original Rick – and then maybe we could wed a sheep at the same time (to keep up with the demand for sweater vests on the campaign trail). We could adopt 30-40 children from Catholic Charities in Virginia, make them all gay, win the White House and make a HUGE RIP in the fabric of society.
I realize now, though, that my plan won’t be easy to execute. I will have to woo my chubby-hubby to be with the full force of my considerable charm. (I could just buy the sheep, on the other hand, so no sweat there.) I decided that I needed to record a love song for the object of my affection. For the moment, I’ll keep my gender secret and make him think I’m a husky-throated vamp.
To My Soon To Be Second Husband, Ricky Santorum, this is for you, baby. (Joss Stone got nothin’ on me, child.) Click here and take a listen… and then gimme a jingle, big boy: http://cl.ly/3K3r2c423k2s1v1G0D13