2004-08-16 - 10:35 a.m.
RISING FROM THE ASHES OF OCEAN CITY, N.J.
Like that rash on your whoozits you just can’t shake, Pencopal is back. After lying on the beach for a week straight, my caramel cappuccino mounds of delight are more like mocha mounds. Sexy. Speaking of (not so) straight, I tried to write a song about the New Gay American. Anyone like heroic couplets, a la Alexander Pope? Good for you, highbrow fuck, but this is more like a limerick.
“McGreevey the Gay Governor”
Oh Jim McGreevey,
Cheshire grin so skeevy,
You came out
With a shout
You should’ve stuck a sock in that Israeli’s mouth
‘cause now he’s talking,
your wife’s balking,
and your political supporters are all walking.
His blow jobs must’ve been great
For you to alter your fate
And expose yourself as a ‘mo
and your sexual orientation to show
There’s nothing wrong with getting blown on the side
But make sure the guy blowing you is along for the ride.
So now he’s suing
And we’re all booing
Since you left us open to the Republicans
And everyone who’s not rich is going to get fucked again
That was as far as I got. Frankly, it isn’t very far. All humor aside, it would’ve been much cooler if he’d outed himself earlier, like after he became governor. It’d could’ve been all, thanks for making me your governor, booya: I’m gay, carry on now. Instead, it's all scandalous and shit, when it didn't have to be.
