Ann Coulter, the infamous GOP pundit, weighs 95 pounds. The tough blonde takes insults without tears and slashes back without mercy. Her monologues are extremely politically incorrect at the Buffalo Bar my friend Jamie Parker said, “I think she talks dirty in bed.”
“She’s a Paris Hilton wannabe.”
“And I would be to, if I was a skinny blonde.”
Jamie’s 54, skinny, and bears the scars of prison and drugs. He’s not bad-looking, but he’s be a scary ka-toey.
“You don’t fantisize having sex with her?” My last sexual encounter with a western woman was in 2003 and the gap had to be 2 years for Jamie.
His sheepish silence gave the answer.
“She’s really skinny the way you like women.” Jamie was aself-proclaimed anarchist. He belonged to nothing and only obeyed his own laws. Ann Coulter slept at the other end of the political spectrum.
“She’s skinny alright, but old too.” My present mistress Mint weighed less than the ultra-right spokesperson. 42 kilos. My friends elected her Miss Biafra 2007.
“Nothing wrong with old.” We were both over 50. “And if you were back in the States you’d be fighting through the crowd to get a shot at that stick pussy.”
It was my turn to be quiet.
“I’m not saying seeing beautiful, but there’s something about her that gives me wood.”
“Really?”
“Looks at all these girls. You can’t have a conversation with them about Eisenhower, Rousseau, or baseball.” The Buffalo girls were lucky to have a 5th Grade education. “I’m not saying they’re stupid, but for once I’d like to be with someone who knows more than me.”
“Oh, so you only want to talk with Ann Coulter?”
“No, I want to have sex with her.”
“How?”
“What you mean, how?”
“What position, where, for how long, would you kiss, wear a condom, you know specifics.”
“I hadn’t really thought about that.”
“Well, I have.”
“And what would you do?”
I leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Jamie shook his head and said, “You’re a bad man.”
“And I like it like that.”
Ann Coulter would too.
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