Anyone remember the Obama “campaign logo”? The oh-so-egotistical one that shamelessly plagiarized the United States Presidential seal? On it were the words, “Vero Possumus”, which some say roughly translates to “Yes, we can”. I say it roughly translates to “Roll over and play dead”.
And it has occurred to me that this whole Obama thing is really like having sex. Really bad sex. The kind of sex that you shove away in the back of your mind once the light of day begins to shine because, although it seemed like a good idea at the time, once you sober up you realize you just feel used and dirty.
Think about it. Here comes a good-looking member of the opposite sex. They have that certain “je ne sais pas que” about them; an air of confidence yet approachability. Something inside of you reacts and you get that tingley little feeling. When they pay attention to you, if you’re single you pull out your best flirts and cross your fingers they’ll want to get “close” to you. If you’re not single, you may keep the chitchat casual but inside you’re glowing with the knowledge that someone still finds you attractive.
Eventually, throughout the course of repeated meetings, always at their invitation, their eloquence reels you in and single or not single, you end up in bed with them. They whisper sweet nothings in your ear and for those fleeting moments the world is filled with excitement, filled with passion, and – dare I say? – filled with hope.
But like all good chemical reactions, eventually the hours pass, the raging “meet-mate-and-procreate” hormones level back out and the alcohol or other drugs of choice in your system dissipate. As the smoke lingers in that cheap hotel room, you pull your wrinkled clothes back on, assiduously avoiding the mirror hanging crookedly over the chipped dresser. You step out into the morning light. As you slowly make your way back home, those wooing promises of what the future holds roll around your exhausted brain like so many little marbles looking for so many little holes.
Deep down, though you’ll never admit it to anyone because you can barely admit it to yourself, you know those smokey, whispered promises were only predatory. And you could kick yourself for falling for them.
And you wonder if there’s been any lingering “collateral damage” like an unwanted pregnancy or venereal disease.
I guess it’s like Forrest Gump’s mama used to say, “Stupid is as stupid does.”
Spread ’em and weep.
I would say that is just one step up from Coyote Ugly. Then again CU might be more honest since in that case you are usually to toasty to mumble, let alone whisper sweet nothings..Ya just wake up or come to, chew your arm off and go home.