What is Bill Clinton’s penis doing these days?

I’m not in the habit of giving war-profiteering thugs ideas for prolonging their bullying, but maybe it’s the spring air warming my heart. I just feel compelled to give Cheney and Bush and Rove an idea. Since Bush is touring South America and nearly everyone there hates him, and since Cheney is hiding after essentially being busted for setting up poor Scooter, I’m going to give Rove a mulligan (a.k.a. a pass, a bye, a break) in honor of the impending Saint Patty’s day (being as Mulligan sounds Irishy.)

So here we go. Here’s the message you need to push, Mr. Rove. Hit that red button, send that mass email to all your conservative operatives (the radio talk show hosts that need something to parrot, the newspapers and cable shows that need to fill the space between the erectile dysfunction advertisers.) Here’s the message of the month:

What is Bill Clinton’s penis doing these days?

Helen of Troy possessed the “face that launched a thousand ships.” Bill Clinton possesses the “penis that launched a thousand newscasts.” Remember those exciting days of the 90s, Republican die-hards? An entire nation was brought to a standstill (I’m not going to say brought to its knees, that’s too easy.) All by one man’s (apparently) superbly interesting cock. At least, I hope it’s superbly interesting, after all, it was worth millions of dollars that could have gone to something much less superbly interesting, like healthcare.

It’s time, Karl. Let Dick Cheney pretend he’s living his ultimate fantasy and launching the nukes. Have him head into the concrete basement, past all kinds of futuristic security checkpoints, confirming thumb-print, retinal scan, erratic heart-beat, etc. Then, deep in the bowels under the Pentagon, in the nuke-proof bunker, cryogenically frozen until it was needed by a lost people again, the sacred object that kept Faux News busy for years: Bill Clinton’s penis. Is that a tear I see, creeping from the corner of Mister Cheney’s eye? Is that rattling the increasing pounding of the crumpled tinfoil that passes for his heart? I believe it is.

“It’s time. You’re needed again,” Mighty Dick says as he defrosts the mighty dick. Steam fills the room, and the dick defrosts. As the smoke clears, the penis tumbles forward from its cryogenic chamber. Dick stands back, horrified. But then Bill’s mighty member rises from the floor, ready to go, as always.

“Let’s party!”

That’s your strategy for now, Mister Rove, the classic you need to go back to. Stick with what works. You’ve got nothing else.

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Larry Nocella is the award-winning author of the novel Where Did This Come From? available at Amazon and Xlibris and other fine online book stores. Also, for a limited time, Where Did This Come From? is available as an eBook for only ONE DOLLAR. Visit Larry Nocella's website at www.LarryNocella.com.