The manager of the safari camp refuses to believe that Sarah Palin had a fetish for black men in her carefree days as a nubile college nymph.
“There’s no way a white woman would marry a Caucasian after sleeping with black men,” he declared. “When they’ve had black, there’s no going back.”
“Perhaps it was a case of ‘too much of a good thing’,” I suggested. “I’ve heard of humans going off chocolate after binging on those dark chunky slabs they sell in the supermarket.”
“Fish-paste!” scoffed the manager. “A woman doesn’t go off men for being too chunky. Not unless they make her do kinky stuff, like biting their buttocks while the dog is watching. Black men aren’t into such vices.”
“I humbly bow to your superior knowledge,” I replied. “Your scholarship in this field is clearly second to none.”
Unfortunately for Sarah, the rumour will damage her politically whether or not it’s true. Many white men will deeply resent the idea that black college athletes enjoyed the flower of her womanhood at its freshest, while her hapless husband had to make do with the stale leftovers. I don’t see how the Republican Party could nominate her now, given that she’d have to take part in live TV debates with President Obama. All that Barry would have to do is flex his forearms and throw her a wink to make her go weak at the knees.
The unwritten rule for a woman with political ambitions is to get elected before embarking upon a sex scandal. Consider the case of Julia Gillard, the raunchy redhead who governs Australia in the name of the Queen. Before becoming prime minister, she fooled people into thinking she was a frigid schoolmistress who changed her knickers every time the wind blew up her skirt. When I say “people” I mean “humans”, of course. We gorillas knew she was an insatiable vixen from the minute she entered politics. You don’t deny yourself the carnal delights if you’ve got the orang-utan gene.
Now that her hands are on the levers of power, a show has appeared on Australian TV depicting an alleged kerfuffle on the floor of her office, in which she and her fancy man canoodle nakedly beneath the national flag. I’d be very surprised if this patriotic frolic will offend the voters. The last thing the Australian electorate want is a frustrated woman who obviously isn’t getting any to boss them around.
“What about Hilldog?” I hear you ask. I personally think it’s too late for Mrs Clinton to revive her flagging political career by having sex with someone. People would think she was doing it to win votes rather than because she genuinely enjoyed it. It’s time for the Democrats to pass the torch to a new generation of highly-energised hotties with the drive and ambition to get on top and stay there. If Chelsea isn’t interested, the heir apparent has got to be Monica Lewinsky. There aren’t many women in America with her record of selfless service.
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