Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Viva Viagra!

The Viagra commercial was on TV last night, the one with the guys in a recording studio doing a quick take-off of Elvis' Viva Las Vegas. I should've watched it. But it's one that I can't get the channel changed fast enough for.

I've been thinking -- as you probably have too -- various nasty thoughts about John McCain, his age, adultery, cheating on his first wife, dumping her when she was crippled, and taking up with Cindy. Then the little short arms -- no matter how he got them. And the very virile image he tries to have in public, manifested in his constantly beating the drum for more war. Bomb bomb bomb Iran. He brags he was the first one who called for the "surge." Well, surge this.

Along with these nasty thoughts -- you have to wonder what's going on in that head of his, take your pick. You have to wonder what's going on under those clothes. You wish you could somehow summon up Dr. Freud from the great beyond to "zee vhat ve haff here." We've all heard the "boxer or brief" question, and more lately the "Mac vs PC" question. I think it might be time for the "Viagra or Cialis" question.

And none of it's private. By no means. We all remember Senator Bob Dole -- he the husband of hottie Elizabeth "his original E.D." Dole -- and his erectile dysfunction commercials. So what was he on, Viagra? And no doubt he's been singing ever since, if you can imagine what his slow, drawling, low croak of a voice would sound like, "Viva, viva Viagra!"

So we have Viagra. And then there's Cialis. One makes you get together with musicians and sing old Elvis songs. And one gives you erections lasting up to four hours. Someone asks "if you're glad to see me," and it's apparent you're glad to see everybody!

Which one lights John McCain's aging fire? You know, the old Doors' song would make a great one for Cialis. "You know that it would be untrue, you know that I would be liar, if I said Cialis couldn't, help me get it up much higher. C'mon, baby, light my fire." Well, Cindy's the latest keeper of his flickering flame, so only she would know.

It'd be good for the rest of us to know, too, so we know what's driving our potential president. And what it might mean for the world. Dr. Strangelove, the guy with the missile between his legs. What goes on down there ... matters.

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