If you are anything like the guys down at the Shiftless Lightning Bar and Grill, you most likely won't believe me. But I have never been surer of anything in my whole life.
I was sitting at home with the usual, jumbo bag of Ruffles, large onion dip and enough suds to wash down Thanksgiving dinner. Been looking forward to the VP debate ever since McCain had the good sense to choose a Milf to be his VPILF. Call me crazy but this lady of Alaska has what it takes to hit all of my buttons, bells, whistles and zippers. I couldn't wait for my clever mavericka to shoot, kill and dress Joe Biden like , yes , one of her many moose trophies.
That, in fact, had become one of my latest fantasies, me and Sarah in flagrante delicto surrounded by wall to wall moose heads while we sipped on Moosehead. Then the debate began. Sarah initially surprised me without her beehive which made her look naked which frankly made me hotter than an Inuit sweatlodge.
She came out punching , demand-asking, " Can I call you, Joe?!" I literally screamed that Yes, Ice Princess of Wasilla, Alaska( that's her full title in my fantasies...), you can call me Joe( my name, in fact) and late to dinner if you would just ride me hard and put away some frosty ones with me. This even embarrassed me...
I settled in to watch the proceedings.I did admire Biden's gentlemanly manners though I suspected his motives. Sarah's clever bobbing and weaving around, under and beneath the questions made me proud. Not once did my Juneau Juliet give in to the East Coast, NYC OCD attachment to the "issues"! My beautiful Nome gnome answered her own questions with answers that she had prepared from a lifetime of sexy soccer and hip hockey mommying!
I knew that she had Biden and Gwen "Awful" on the ropes by the really confused look they both had at her creative, mavericky responses. And that's when it happened. Sarah, IPOWA, VPILF girl of my dreams (GOMD) winked at ME...
Many across America and even in Alaska probably thought the come on was directed at them. Some thought it a planned, maybe even cutsey trick contrived by Karl Rove, bless his soul. But I tell you that I believe and will swear on a stack of Wasilla Bible Church bibles that that wink was directed directly at , excuse my French, MOI!
And so, I, Joe Sixpack (my actual baptismal nomenclature) have packed my bags and am on my way to Juneau to join in conjugal bliss with the IPOWAVPILFGOMD...DGBMS (Dear Gawd, Bless My Soul).