by Evert Cilliers aka Adam Ash
So Petraeus stuck his beef bayonet up Paula Broadwell's sugar trench. These two 6-minute milers probably did the marathon in bed, ending with Olympic orgasms.
So what?
Can't people bump their uglies anymore? Why is cheating on your spouse a fireable offense? A career-destroying transgression? What's wrong with our country? Soon gay marriage is going to be legal all over, and we'll all be lighting joints in the street — thank heaven — but hey, when it comes to banging someone you lust after, and who lusts after you, you can't do that, because otherwise you can't be the head of the CIA.
Says who?
Bill Clinton stuck his cigar in Monica's honeypot, and they tried to impeach him for that, but America didn't give a damn, and he wasn't impeached. You'd think that would show us the way. You'd think that if it's OK for the president to splooge his manbutter on an intern's dress, it would be OK for anyone to go pagan outside their Christian marriage and keep their job.
Like they do in France — where they are somewhat more affable about human nature than we are. There they think a person's private life is their private life, and more important than their public work. Here in America, we think work is something sacred; not even the basic human drive of sex should interfere with our notion of the sanctity of work. Work is holy, sex is dirty. Heaven forbid filthy fun should enter the citadel of serious work. Our work-life balance is so out of whack, we prioritize work over life itself. It's high time our Puritan work ethic went the way of the typewriter and the vaginal condom. In anyone's life, it's just as important for you to trade your bodily fluids as it is for you to render some sterling service to the public. You should be free to do both to your heart's content. Bill Clinton managed that superbly: conducting an important phone call of great national interest while being blown by Monica exemplifies the perfect balance of life and work.