Sequim Love  

Sequim: Save Our Country!

by William Jefferson Reddnec III

What has happened to our national leadership?  Have they become so corrupt as to want only illegal money and not illicit sex?  Or are they just so old and impotent the high point of their day is a limp, flaccid $100 bill?  My Dad's 84 and has had three strokes.  But if my Mom hadn't cut his credit card off he'd still be up at 4 AM watching "Girls Gone Wild" and ordering male enhancement pills by phone. 

How can we explain all the corruption revolving around the money laundering, bribes, illegal lobbying activities and the millions and millions of dollars changing hands?  What kind of men are these that the ringleader has his real name of Abram Jackoff changed to Jack Abramoff?  And another one is named Tom DeLay.  Why?  For all the sex scandal he's been known for, his name may as well be Tom Peanut. 

Oh, I long for the good old days when our leaders were too busy chasing skirts to corrupt the nation so horribly.  Remember when their idea of fun was to frolic in the Tidal Basin at 4 AM with a stripper, as Wilbur Mills did with Fannie Foxx?   How about having two consecutive presidential serial adulterers in JFK and LBJ?  Now those were men that understood!  Even wheelchair-bound Roosevelt is rumored to have nailed more women than our current leader.  Even presidential hopefuls like Gary Hart would keep women like Donna Rice on their lap without concern for their public image.  I mean, come on.  They had their priorities clearly set.  Their head was getting plenty of blood.  Can anyone imagine Condie Rice sitting in our leader's lap?  Yeah, and Oprah's going to marry Stedman. 

The piker of the bunch, Ted Kennedy, still gets elected to the Senate, and still does more for the average American than any other Senator.  And he would have been banging for records if he'd just learned how to drive. 

What about Bill?  Sure.  Perhaps Bill Clinton would have set a record if the Republicans hadn't hired every detective in the country and most hookers to nail him.  But just maybe Wet Willie created his own problems with women by preferring head to tail.  Feeling the resentment, women found kiss and Tell profitable.  Well, at least you could get money for a nose job. 

Did those leaders take government benefits away from the needy?  No way.  They just kept wanting to give of themselves.  Tax cuts for the rich?  No way.  The rich were supposed to just keep on giving, especially if they were blond and looked good in a black mini skirt and high heels. 

So what gives with our current leadership?  If there are warm-blooded members of Congress and the Senate it's hard to tell.  They all look so unhappy, and their talk is so angry.  Well maybe you'd be that way too if you had to raise $10,000 a day every day for your re-election.  Maybe they just don't get enough sleep for their hormones to kick in. 

OK, what about President Dubya?  He's in bed by 9 every night.  Good question.  There's no certain answer, but a few likely candidates.  Who needs sex when you've got drugs?  Hello.  You can get as buzzed as you want without fear of STDs, exposure, or impeachment.  And in the privacy of his own bathroom who knows how he handles his needs.  And then there's the "Mommy Dearest" syndrome.  "Now there's a woman that really knows how to hate".  (Richard Nixon's description of Barbara Bush )

How about Cheney and Rumsfeld?  Rumsfeld has been drowning in competitive ambition all his life.  Details are too sketchy for a full answer.  But it's hard to believe such an ambitious man could be satisfied with only one feminine conquest.  Same for Cheney, except there are some hints that while conquering his goals he drank his way to heart trouble.  To paraphrase a Yale classmate: "You really had to work at flunking out of Yale, but he was content to hang with the football team, drink and play cards".  Sounds like Bill Gates at Harvard.  Except some say Bill Gates played poker to win all the money in the world.  And when it took too long, he left.  Duh. 

But you know, if you're a powerful person and your hormones are working, you have to get it on with panache.  Look at Ted Turner, Brad Pitt, Mick Jagger, and countless others.  Even Bill Cosby still has blood flowing below his waist.  You're not  a powerful man if you're not making the tabloids. 

Corrupt.  Impotent.  Insecure.  Untrusting.  Potent at acquiring more wealth, spending tax money, and killing; but impotent at loving, which requires trust.  It's probably so bad they have trouble trusting their wives enough to take their pants off. 

The Sequim Challenge

So, the challenge for Sequim is to lead the effort to return the nation to the good old days.

We're perfect for the job.  We've got more old farts than Congress.  They're even angrier, more untrusting and insecure, and have enough money to buy the state.  What's more, we've got women running almost everything so men can't mess it up.  We have a female governor, two female senators, and a representative named Norm Dicks, not Normal (last name singular). 

Let's challenge everyone else to meet our bonking standards.  Let's make rutting season year-round and estrus as prevalent as mildew. Too exhausted to get angry.  Barely able to garner the energy between bouts to smile weakly. 

They'll be so envious they'll have to follow suit, and the next thing you know the corruption will abate.  Hell, the best thing that could happen is for them to be too tired to pass new bills, and then lobbyists won't be needed. 

So let's party hard, set the pole high, and squirt some joy juice around.  Who knows, we might find a man suitable for election as a senator or even president.  

Turning It Loose

But first we have to create a hot environment.  We have to pry the old farts out of their cocoons, away from their pay-per-view adult movies and videos, and internet entertainment.  We have to return them to society as participants not cloistered virtual voyeurs. 

We need what's referred to in the film business as ponies:  women that get men all hot and bothered.  And then we need finishers.  If money changes hands, it has to be for sex, not power or business favors.  We need meeting places where ponies do their thing and pass men off to finishers.  We can call them Social  Clubs, or keep the old name of Gentlemen's Clubs.  Well...hey, the name Country Club or Community Activity Center works for me.  We need finishers that go where they're needed when they're called.  We can call the ponies Aerobic Instructors and finishers Aerobic Performers.  Or keep the old names of Strippers, Exotic Dancers, Lap Dancers, and Escorts. 

It's very important that it's done tastefully.  Participants and observers must sense an upward social thrust.  It must be sensed as enriching ($$$) the community.  Come on.  Why should people go all the way to Vegas spending money like idiots along the way when that money could stay here?  [EDC and Tourist Bureaus take note.]

And it's important that it not be strictly legal.  Not legal, but not challenged, prosecuted or punished.  An occasional fine or admonition for out-of-bounds conduct might be helpful.  We have to preserve the sense of taboo and vicarious danger to preserve the ultimate thrill of it all.  Kind of like bungee jumping.  Will the rope break?  Will I get caught?  This takes us back to our adolescence when our hormones were highest and our outlets lowest.  We would blind ourselves to all reason for a single mediocre three-second bonk.  Yeehaa! [Quoted from Howard Dean.]

So our noble mission lies before us.  We must plunge into this with full force.  Save our country.  Save our government.  Save our capitol.  Ours is not to ponder and sigh, but to do and do and do and do until we die. 

Come on, you old farts, we can do it.  Let's get it on!