Dear Bill Clinton:

At first, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I WAS sure. In the sense that there is really no one else on earth who could pull off something so obvious and yet remain completely undetected.

And believe me, I get it.

No dude wants to spend his golden years under the thumb of his wife/business partner/pimp/possible baby mama, forced by executive order to listen to how much better her Secretary of Defense is than yours was (yawn), tolerate the endless droning about how your repeal of Glass-Steagall made her a virtual slave to Goldman (snore), let alone her continual charting of your relative daily favorable/unfavorable ratings (eye roll) so really, who can blame you?

To be clear. No one is giving millions to the RODHAM foundation, okay? So there you are, poised for the best years of your life, with the platinum of golden parachutes, in YOUR name, and this greedy troll will NOT step off!!! And now everyone and their not hot mother is up your ass about YOUR money! Just like every other retired guy in America, when you think you’ve got enough stashed away so you don’t have to worry, some dumb bitch finds a way to lose it all! I mean, you got your buddies at the DNC to kick her to the curb for Barack eight years ago, but despite your best efforts, she did not die in the line of duty during her, uhh… “tenure” as Secretary of State. So now, here you are, possibly reduced to single digit millionaire status, staring down the barrel of four years as “First Biatch”, your every move scrutinized by the press, forced to give up your multiple bachelor pads and cohabitate with the one person in the world you have spent your entire adult life trying to build a wall of pussy strong enough to keep away!

But at first, I admit, I wasn’t positive it was you. Your wife has no shortage of enemies. Or lies. I thought it could be an ex-staffer, a greedy random hacker or a disgruntled plus size pant suit designer with a background in computers, seeking retribution after losing a bid to clothe Hillary due to her wide set clit. But as time went by, and the leaks became increasingly inflammatory with no end or source in sight, the pieces began to fall together. Are we REALLY supposed to believe that Mrs. Clinton was the one who needed a private server at her house? She already had a server. With all her emails on it.

But you didn’t…

It was Bubba. With the server. In the conservatory. #wikileaks

Nicely played, Mr. President.

PS. Please don’t kill me. Thanks.

2 thoughts on “DEAR BILL CLINTON

  1. Dear Sadie, I want to comment on your post but I had to read it twice as I am now in my olderly age suffering from short term selective memory loss. Oops I forgot again. Oh yes in all my life I have never heard the term “wide set clit” in the same sentence as pant suits. Please clarify. Lovingly, Gramma Lovey


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