Presidents in Bed

I always say that American presidents should have the right to go looking for love. I don't care if they already have wives and children, or if this love comes from under aged girls. They'll get bonus points if the affair involves middle aged men who sit cross legged, claiming all along "I'm not gay. I just like gay people." In fact, political affairs are my personal favorite part of American history, sadly left out of classroom lectures and History textbooks. I would just like to say to the presidents of the past to keep having adulterous affairs! While I am aware they are long dead and gone, I'm quite sure even ghosts and spirits get a bit passionate and randy in the after life, hence bringing the availability to new levels. As for future presidents, it's your turn, and you have a namesake to uphold.

My personal favorite affair went on between then-Senator and later president Warren G. Harding. Harding was a married man with size fourteen feet who supposedly had some black in him, which does explain how such an ugly man was able to compensate. Late one night, way back in 1917, he was coonoodling with a very willing fourteen year old girl in his hotel room. The alcohol was flowing. The light from the candles bounced off the walls. The air conditioners...conditioned things. Everything was romantic and everything was going well. Suddenly with no warning, the New York City hotel detectives came bursting through the door. Harding shook his head. He just wanted to be a normal person and have normal human sex.

"Yeah, well, what is it?" he stared at them.

"Uh, that," the head of the New York city hotel detectives grunted. "That, is it." The girl seemed unusually calm and slightly bored considering the circumstances. She went into the kitchen to let the adults talk and get a sandwich.

"That is something that never happened," Harding said firmly, but politely. Harding always was known as one of the "good guys", a gentleman who just happened to have a very ungentlemanly private life and private areas.

"Oh, really? I don't know...It seems to have happened. People in the hotel have been complaining about noises."

"I'm sorry, but this hotel room was really thin walls. Please forgive me. I'll pay you."

"How much?"

"Um, twenty bucks?"

"Twenty bucks?" Harding stifled a smile with whole success and managed to even appear outraged at such a small fee. "Twenty dollars is a lot! I was going to order Chinese food! You know what, fine. Why not."

He reached out into his pocket and handed them over a twenty dollar bill, and within seconds they were gone. The girl returned to the room looking entirely smug, with chocolate milk on her lips. She and Harding resumed their business.

Despite later failing, or at least being completely worthless, as a president Harding always, always learned from his mistakes. He was much more careful hence ward. From then on, he kept his affairs with young girls to tiny closets in the White House Cabinet room while the Secret Service stood lookout. Very smooth! Well done!

I love gay Presidents who claim not to be gay. They're the best. Take for example, fifteenth President James Buchanan. There was a guy who, if he had a my space, under sexual orientation would be "Um I don't have one" just to get the people to shut up. He had lived with a Senator named William Rufus King for twenty or so years. Suspicions began to arise. Not that Buchanan tried to hide anything.

When asked what he thought of his male companion, Buckanan simply said, "Well, he's a very gay, elegant looking fellow". I can practically hear in my mind Buckanan going, "COUGH COUGH GAY AS IN HAS SEX WITH MEN GAY AS IN HAS SEX WITH MEN COUGH COUGH AHEM AHEM".

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. I didn't say anything. Did you say anything? No? Okay. Cool."

Back to affairs with women, we Americans are very proud of the incredibly juicy affair between Alexander Hamilton and a young woman by the name of Maria Reynolds. It was the summer of 1871, and this strange woman turned up at his door step claiming that her husband had left her.

"Yeah, my husband left me. I am sad. Boo hoo. May I have some money?"

Hamilton said humbly that he didn't have any money. Then he added, "Or, you know, a wife. Uh definitely not. Totally. Never married. Noooooooo. Flying solo."

He added that he would, however, love to meet up with the woman late at night to play...you know, board games, or something. They did indeed meet together that night, and if a book of dialogue were to be made accounting for such activity, quotes such as "OH HAMMY OH" would be highlighted.

Rumors spread, as they always do. Hamilton took the high road of admitting to the affair. He published an entire confession and everything. Unfortunately, it was a bit more detailed than his mother, for instance, would have liked. In this document, Hamilton went on to say, essentially, the following:

...and thereof we met at her apartment and proceeded to undress. I noticed that I had five dollars in my pocket. I said to her 'Would you like this?' and she said 'K' and then we went back to the undressing process. It took about fifteen minutes. She had really nice undergarments. I think if I were a woman I would wear them. But I am a man. She tells me this all the time as we have sexual relations. She is SO smart and well-educated.

The public only semi-forgave him, and his namesake never truly recovered. There's a theory that as long as a political figure admits to his wrongdoings the memory of his misbehaviors will go away. We'll forgive him, and even treat him as a hero for being able to relate to the average man whore. "If Clinton didn't lie about having sexual relations with that woman it would be a-okay with me!" my parents themselves will even tell me. However, I'm not sure if I believe them. The public can be very strange sometimes.

Even recently we have Senator David Vitter thinking everything would be fine even though he had sex with a prostitute. He had been found to be a sexual client of "D.C Madame" Deborah Jeane Palfrey around 2003. "No! No! It's okay, you guys!" he claims. "I asked for forgiveness from my wife. AND GOD! Therefore, it's ALLLLL good." As if the public is supposed to say, "Well, if God forgave you...then, you're okay in my book!" and move on. We have moved on, but that's only because we've lost interests.

Personally, I don't really mind if politicians hire prostitutes so long as they pay for them and the prostitute doesn't turn out to be my mother. It's when we have George Bush raping a woman that I have a small problem. No. Don't do that. Bad George. Bad. Indeed, Margie Shoedinger accused him of rape in 2002. Because it was George Bush we're talking about, she predictably committed suicide afterwards. I am confused as to why the public doesn't seem to particularly care and why their faces haven't turned into shocked AIM smiley face icons with mouths stretched all the way to their eyelids. Oh well; I guess that's just the red, white, and blue way.

And that right there is why I love America.