President Obama, What Have You Done to My Penis?
It had already been a trying day. I had just undergone a CT scan to see what sort of problems I may or may not be having in my abdominal area (known in some quarter as "the guts". And hey, if you're in the mood for a real adventure tonight, check out my blog and look at the movie or the stills. Did you know how much STUFF there is in there under your skin? It's like PACKED FULL of junk in there).
But I digress.
We got home, I did daily my mile on the treadmill (which my neurologist recommended because my obesity — known in some circles as "fatassedness" — was giving other people with Parkinson's disease a bad name), took my shower, stepped out to dry myself... and that's when I discovered...
I am now a woman.
Well, that was my first thought. I looked down over my saggy breasts, over my bulging belly, into the tuft of hair down there and saw... nothing.
I was a woman. An old, bald woman with hair on her chest and belly who needed a shave.
I went in looking for it. Thank God, I found it. It had been there all along.
It was hiding. It had done a turtleneck sort of thing, tucked itself back inside itself to where it looked like nothing more than a pustule of skin.
I coaxed it out of its protective skin cloak. "Don't EVER do that again," I scolded. It just sort of hung its head and looked very sad.
I can not blame it.
I blame President Obama.
I blame HIM for robbing his supporters of their manhood, man by man, penis by penis.
I blame him for caving in to the teabaggers. I blame him for giving John Boehner what he called "98% of what I wanted" only to have the stock market crash the next day casting the civilized world into darkness and ushering in an era of "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" mindless violence on the crumbling streets while cars in search of precious and scarce petroleum products armor themselves and careen down the streets, ignoring the speed bumps and generally annoying the bejeezus out of everyone.
I blame him for stealing my penis.
OK, he didn't steal it. But he frightened it.
He let John Boehner throw him over a couch and have his way with him. He let Eric Cantor throw him onto the top of a pinball machine and, while the lightning flashed and everything took on a grainy black-and-white tone, violated him again and again and again. He let Mitch McConnell...
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