So Sarah Palin grand arbiter of family values and rabid advocate of teaching abstinence as opposed to sex education in school has a knocked up drunk for a daughter and a convicted felon for a husband. It’s like some twisted, nauseating republican version of ‘Juno’ up there. I tell you, the hypocrisy of these conservative wing nuts never ceases to amaze me.
You have to hand it to these kool aid drinking douchebags though, they know how to party. I mean, here I am a bonafide lefty and all my life I've been cautious to the point of debilitating neurosis when it comes to sex. So it goes without saying that I've ALWAYS been compulsive as far as wearing protection is concerned, not only due to the pregnancy issue, but because I'm absolutely petrified of disease.
Apparently the Palin clan shares no such concerns.
To be honest, I wish I could be as cavalier. All that nagging anxiety has definitely been a major detriment when it's come to my enjoyment of sex. Throughout my sexually active years, it's been this consistent, nagging ember burning in the back of my brain. Every time I'd meet someone new that I felt could turn into something romantic, my first question would invariably be...
'So, uh.. do you have anything that rhymes with...WERPEASE?'
It was always such a drag. I hated that conversation. I remember this one episode with a chick I'd been seeing for a few days who I actually found really interesting and cool. We'd been out on the town, and were kind of tipsy on cheap margaritas - well actually, SHE had the cheap margarita...but I did have some rum cake. Anyway, we got back to her place, and started getting all hot and heavy. At this point, we hadn't yet had 'the conversation', and I was getting more and more anxious about it. As we approached that crucial point of no return, I got a hold of myself and stopped the action to ask her if she had anything growing on her nether regions. Well, she got all quiet...which made me even more nervous.
'So..what's the deal?', I squeaked
'Well... I'm taking care of it.'
'Taking care of it? what does that mean?'
'Uh... I have genital warts, but I'm getting treatment for it.'
I let out an audible sigh.
'That's too bad', I said in a heavy tone.
'Awww.. No really.. it's ok'
"No', I said 'I mean, that's too bad as far as we're concerned.'
I zipped up my pants and headed back uptown to my apartment, leaving her there with her bloomers around her ankles and a shocked expression on her face. For the rest of the night, I was totally freaking out, as I had my fingers up her snatch. In a total panic, I doused my hand in bleach, peroxide, soap, boiling water...anything I could get my hands on! For months later I would scan my fingers and cuticles for traces of anything that rhymed with BENITAL JORTS!
Now I know there are far WORSE things in life than STDs, and that this story makes me sound like a paranoid shmuck, not to mention an unbelievably insensitive prick, but what are you gonna do? Blame it on my strict left-wing upbringing. Us liberals are a conservative people. Still I wish I had no fear to fuck. Even now, with my lovely girlfriend, who’s as clean as a whistle – cleaner really as whistles get all gunked up with spit and germs - I still feel a mild trepidation right before we jump into the act. It’s a sensation akin to what one might feel right before leaping into an icy lake.
Growing up as AIDS was just exploding onto the cultural landscape really fucked me over I guess.
Ahh.. these wacky republicans, they know how to live. They fuck anonymous men in airport bathrooms, their slut daughters are constantly getting knocked up, they enjoy sodomizing the occasional intern...they truly understand the meaning of a good time!
God bless em'.
The lovely Chan Marshall of Cat Power....meow!