I had a nice run with my healthy sex drive. I used to want to have sex. For 25 *cough* years of life, I had a functioning uterus that wasn’t shriveled up and dead inside. Now, at the prime of my life –
Fuck off! Anyway, in my reproductive prime, my ovaries are dead and I will never have sex again. One look at the vomit-inducing headline should clarify any questions you might have as to why. In an exclusive from the National Enquirer, five seemingly-normal, attractive women allowed Ted Cruz inside them. I’ll give you a moment to process that information.
Yes, that is the correct response. The National Enquirer was kind enough to conceal the identities of Grandpa Munster’s supposed paramours, but they were as good at concealing that information as Donald Trump is at concealing his receding hairline. Twitter sleuths were able to figure out that three of the five ladies were: Trump spokeswoman Katrina Pierson, Carly Fiorina staffer Sarah Isgur Flores, and former Cruz communications director Amanda Carpenter.
Shit got real on CNN Friday when a Trump supporter called out Amanda Carpenter for allegedly sleeping with Ted Cruz’s gross ass. The CNN moderator shut that shit down and said she didn’t want to get into tabloid gossip, to which America responded, “Speak for yourself, bitch!” We want to hear all the disgusting details about her apparent blob fish fetish, even though hearing those details will probably melt our faces off, Raiders of the Lost Ark style.
Probably the least important question in this whole scandal is whether or not it’s even true. In the pro column is the fact that Ted Cruz is the worst, that he knows the women involved, and that these rumors have been circulating around the press like a pesky herp sore for months now. On the other hand, Trump is besties with the Enquirer’s head hussy, the women all deny the story, and the timing is questionable to say the least. On balance, let’s just call it true so we can end our long national nightmare and have Cruz go the way of Alaska’s favorite drunk aunt, Sarah Palin.
He can show up drunk to America’s occasional family function and queef out a few words we all pretend to pay attention to. But after the reception, he disappears into the ether. We might see him post the rare status update on Facebook about his impending divorce, and he might even write a racist National Review editorial or two. But he will never, EVER, sniff the even taint of the presidency if this affair story holds water. We can all hope.