Come Back, Clinton Sex Nation
Is the country better off with a president who actually has an active libido? Hell yes.

And women had dreams about him, wrote into magazines and called in to talk shows, and they were sexual dreams, trysts and liaisons and Monicas, because women, well, they knew.

They knew it was genuine. They knew Clinton was an honest appreciator of the female form. You get the distinct feeling that Clinton genuinely and respectfully and with great zeal (and yes, also some very poor taste) truly loved women, loved the female gender, so much so he screwed it all up and took it to painful and finally rather sleazy extremes.

Of course it's worth noting that Clinton's zest for flesh was nowhere near the glorious levels of gleeful sexaholism as that of our noble and heroic JFK, a man who merged with more women than Rocco Siffredi and went so far as to haul around his own personal giddy 19-year-old intern on road trips, just to service him sexually. Hey, just like Mick Jagger! Cool.

Oh but how Clinton was slandered. Oh but how he was swarmed upon, savagely, brutally, not just for screwing around, not merely for having an ugly and dumb-ass affair, not even for lying about it. But essentially for having sex at all, for actually appearing to enjoy it, unashamedly, and for being unable to control his appetites. For being, you know, human. Heaven forfend.

Then there's Bush. Oh dear god.
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