But then I come to my senses, pull my panties back on, dry myself off using his extremely high-thread count jacket and I tell him that if it takes my whole life I’m going to work against him and his stupid fucking awful policies and lies and Tea Party bullshit and then I tell him how much I hate him and his charisma and I tell him Ayn Rand was a stupid writer and anyone who still talks about how great she is probably isn’t that well-read and then — fuck. We are full on making out “Moonlighting” style again. Goddamnit.
YOU GUYS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME. Seriously. It’s bad for me. It’s bad for the country. It’s bad for my boyfriend Joe Biden.
