Edwards Admits to Scoring Extra Set of Tits

Edwards Admits to Scoring Extra Set of Tits
By Chloe Dinnerrolly (August 10, 2008)

Life’s tough when you’re a good looking politician. With so many expectations demanded from the public eye; from your standpoint on the panda-gonorrhea epidemic to the side you part your hair; it’s difficult to keep it all together. Governors, mayors, and even the snot-nosed 5th grade class president, are all responsible in holding the image of a model American citizen, which means no satanic goat-roasting rituals, no chewing gum with your mouth open, and surely no scoring pussy on the side.

Yet periodically the wedding ring becomes a piece of scrap metal sitting on a car dashboard, and slip-ups occur, because when you’re a handsome man in the political game, like Kevin Bacon raising havoc in a no-dancing rural town, everybody cuts footloose! Women with overly-teased hair and runs in their stockings, are constantly hopping onto your campaign bus, like drunk groupies piling into the back of Tommy Lee’s tour bus, eager to personally hand-in their voting ballots.

The sexual temptation is everywhere, heavily layered in Spandex undergarments, ruffled blouses, and overpowering shoulder pads. It’s an occupational hazard that is hard to resist.

Take the recent victim to step into the cabinet-filling seduction, Mr. John Edwards. Unfortunately the cutie-patootie did not read the How to Be A Politik-Playa Handbook thoroughly. The 55-year-old North Carolina senator and former Democratic presidential runner, for weeks had been rumored to be in the acts of a love affair with a younger, thinner, crazier, blonder woman who also allegedly spit out a little baby Edwards without the wife’s knowing- or involvement.

Finally on Friday, in order to clear his name and soiled boxer briefs, Edwards put an end to the media speculation and confessed to ABC News, “Yes, I shoplifted the pooty.”

Mostly known as John Kerry’s running mate in the 2004 presidential election, Edwards was the sweet ice cream to Kerry’s rugged waffle cone. A handsome Southern man who came with the chubbo wife, the kids, and Americana package, Edwards had all the women in high-rise Mom Jeans across the country swooning, wanting to break that package wide open.

As luck would have it, ultimately his pretty face couldn’t land him a seat in The White House. As if being labeled America’s Next Top Loser wasn’t enough strain on his gray hairs, coincidently in the days following, the missus of 27 years, Elizabeth Edwards, was diagnosed with breast cancer.

When your girl’s got the cancer boobs, what’s a guy to do?

Chemotherapy is not exactly arousing nor is not being able to hold slumber parties with college buddies in the Lincoln Bedroom. Hmph. Surrounded by such frustrating circumstances, how does one turn that frown upside down?

Like the Leon Phelps before him, the ladies’ man within was unleashed. No need for a glass of Courvoisier here, all Edwards had to do was flash those pearly whites and swing back that luscious mane, and it was bound to make ‘em polyester suits drop into ‘em birthday suits.

The technique worked, and was exactly how he met Ms. Rielle Hunter in 2006. And oh boy, did those two have their fun. But sadly, the escapades were put to a sudden halt with the sounds of a shrieking baby.

Knocking up a heterosexual white woman while your wife’s at home taking Tamoxifen pills, Edwards stayed true to his Democratic roots. Unlike Republican sex scandals, which usually involve a transvestite, a crack pipe, and a public bathroom.

But wait, like a good Danielle Steel novel, the plot thickens. Although Edwards admitted, “I DID have sexual relations with that woman.” he denies claims that he is the father of Hunter’s daughter, who was born February of the year, and is demanding a paternity test to prove he doesn’t carry super sperm.

Taking notes from the guests seen on Maury Polvich, in his defense Edwards states, “How can she pin this baby on me? She ain’t nothin’ but a golddiggin’ hoe! Gobblin’ my Benjamins! That ain’t my baby! We stopped messin’ before she got pregnant. Maybe I ain’t VP, but I can do math! That bitch was screwin’ the whole campaign party, shit… I love my wife. Vote for me!”

All this slander and jibber-jabber, and time is being wasted. We can easily clear this matter up in a 15-minute segment on an one hour talk show. The number is 1-800-45-MAURY. That’s 1-800-456-2879.

“When it comes to 5 month-old Frances Quinn Hunter, John Edwards... you ARE the panties dropper!"

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