“I am most jealous of your salad under the palm tree” and Other Highlights from Governor Mark Sanford’s Lust Notes
"She took the whole thing."
In case you didn’t notice, we tend to lean to the left over here at Phoenix headquarters. As such, very little pious outrage rang through the office when news broke that Republican South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford was busted for having a love affair with an elusive Argentine hottie known simply as Maria. Such developments hardly offend rational lefties; our copy editors were a bit concerned about the governor’s poor grammar, but, otherwise, our primary interest was in Sanford’s awkward romantic prose.
As I’m writing this, I’m sure there are thousands of makeshift Mark Sanford rap videos and all sorts of other parodies in production. Tomorrow on YouTube, I suspect there will be multiple West Side Story “Maria” spin-offs, as well as several techno remixes of the governor’s most hypocritical speeches. Until then; here are some hilarious outtakes (in bold) from the correspondence between Sanford and his lover, followed (in italics) by what we think the semi-literate Casanova pol was attempting to communicate.
Please also send your mailing address as I want to send you an insignificant something next week when I am back in civilization that I think you might find interesting given our conversation.
Remember the conversation that we had about the soiled rubbers I’ve been saving from our rendezvous together? Well, I’m sending them to you to hang on your Christmas tree.
To me, and I suspect no one else on earth, there is something wonderful about listening to country music playing in the cab, air conditioner running, the hum of a huge diesel engine in the background, the tranquility that comes with being in a virtual wilderness of trees and marsh, the day breaking and vibrant pink coming alive in the morning clouds — and getting to build something with each scoop of dirt.
Nature is best appreciated when you’re plowing through it in a giant gas guzzler equipped with air-conditioning. Also - when I say “no one else on earth” - that obviously excludes half of my constituents who also like spending time in the “virtual wilderness,” which is just like the regular wilderness but with an added useless adjective.
It was indeed a long day. I am most jealous of your salad under the palm tree.
Your pussy is a garden salad, and I want to toss it in ranch dressing.
I have been specializing in staying focused on decisions and actions of the head for a long time now — and you have my heart.
My heart, like my brain, can be found in my penis.
The rarest of all commodities in this world is love.
I could digress and say that you have the ability to give magnificently gentle kisses, or that I love your tan lines or that I love the curves of your hips, the erotic beauty of you holding yourself (or two magnificent parts of yourself) in the faded glow of night’s light…
Have I told you lately that I love your tits? Can’t wait to go motor-boating next time I come down there.
I looked to where I often look for advice and counsel, and in I Corinthians 13 it simply says that, “Love is patient and kind, love is not jealous or boastful, it is not arrogant or rude, Love does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice in the wrong, but rejoices in the right, Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things”.
If I’ve learned one thing as a Republican, it’s that most truly evil acts can be justified by some odd biblical interpretation. I am not responsible for my actions; when we make love, it’s like Jesus slips his cock into mine and guides me toward your vagina. When these emails that I’m stupidly sending from work surface in the news, at least everyone will know that I always put God first.