My Brief Encounter With Mitch McConnell

It was an unusually hot day in May and I was sitting on a park bench outside The Kentucky Derby track. An older man sat down next to me. His dress shirt was unbuttoned to his navel. It was the illustrious Mitch McConnell! I immediately noticed something shiny on his left breast. “Is that a nipple bar?” I asked curiously. (I couldn’t resist. Something about him opened me up). He smiled through his thick glasses. “Yes….my father had my left mammary pierced when he gave me my Man Card on my 21st birthday. He told me that becoming a man is a rite of passage, like passing The Bar. That’s the moment he encouraged me to go into politics.”

I could feel his power overtake me. My python moved beneath my cotton twill shorts so I discreetly adjusted my toned legs. Mitch leaned in, saying, “My dad was a charming fellow. He helped me develop my personal style and public persona.” He then looked deeply into my eyes and purred, “But that’s not really who I am.” His Brut cologne was intoxicating and I could see a bead of sweat form on his nipple bar. He gently placed his hand on my upper thigh and looked deeply into my eyes.

All time seemed to stop. His touch was like the unbearable lightness of a feather. Tenderness far beyond what a mother can give while nursing her baby. I began to levitate and looked around the park. Fortunately, everyone was glued to their i-phones. None of the zombies had their phones pointed at us so I decided to go with the flow and be ONE with the moment….with the universe….with Mitch’s hand…his hot breath…with life itself. Mitch looked down at my zipper and could see my peach popsicle shifting underneath. Then he suddenly looked back up at me with a creepy grin. He had morphed into Satan. (I had experienced this once before while sharing a vanilla-chocolate swirl ice cream with Clarence Thomas at a Pubic Hair Festival).

Mitch violently grabbed my magic mushroom on the outside of my shorts and said menacingly, “You will NOT have your orgasm!” I retreated from him in horror. How could he deny me this pleasure? What had I done? Could this dramatic shift have something to do with his past? Then like Jekyll and Hyde, he suddenly switched back to the sweet, sexy man that aroused my loins. But the moment had passed and I shut down. We sat there in awkward silence. I was shaking, so confused….and hurt. Then Mitch said something I’ll never forget:

“Forgive me. Politics has taken its toll on my predatory skills. I was recently gang-raped by seven men wearing Kathy Griffin masks. My prostate was bruised and has been acting up and interfering with my conquests. I think God is telling me to take a break and do some serious soul-searching.”

He then stood up, gently removed the piercing from his mammary and placed it in my hand. He then buttoned up his shirt and walked away. I never saw him again and I was never the same.

I donated the nipple bar to Save the Elephants charity.