Clay Aiken's Blog: Yes, The Rumors Are True -- I Admit I Am A Liberal

-- by Clay Aiken

Once again, ignore that "By Ace" above. I cleared this with his PR people. Well, not his PR people so much as a guy who once did his hair and makeup before a gig at a Six Flags near Des Moines. So this is just as good as coming straight from Mr. Aiken himself.

To All My "Claymates,"

There are a lot of rumors flying out there about me. I'm sure you've read the tabloids, seen the web-chat logs, seen the web-cam pictures I sent.

It's time to drop the pretense, the lying. Yes, it's all true.

I am a liberal.

(Content advisory.)

A few months ago I was bored and lonely in a cheap motel while on tour. I suddenly felt aroused, aroused to have a serious debate over Bush's ruinous foreign and domestic policy. So I logged into a gay pick-up site -- that's where all the hot, wet debate happens nowadays -- and began chatting with a conservative gay ex-Marine, to see if he'd have any interest in meeting with me and taking a big stinking load of my hot steaming opinions.

After some "feeling out," he announced that he was "nicely cut."

"Nicely cut?" I clarified. "You mean your muscles are cut, or you're 'cut' down on your choad-bazooka?"

"Both," he answered. He certainly seemed "up" for a little vigorous exchange of ideas.

He arrived at my hotel room an hour later, wearing nothing but a furry Beastmaster-style thong and novelty-glasses with a nose shaped like schlong. I knew right away what he was aiming for with this odd choice of dress -- he wanted to intimidate me politically. He was using his sexuality, as we all do, as part of his personal armory in his daily battles.

But I would not have my right to dissent chilled. "Nice ass," I said, hoping that this opening compliment would ensure lively, but civil, intercourse, intercourse regarding the compelling issues facing our nation today.

We approached each other tenatively but hungrily, like old lovers separated for too long, each craving the taste of each other's thoughts and insights. He bent over backwards to accomodate me, and I was delighted to drive home my thoughts on Iraq, hard, like Brokeback-hard. I laid so many hot, turgid, throbbing facts into him I doubt he was able to shit straight for a week.

The coversation turned, however, as he did, he now sitting on the bed, me standing before him, my pulsing premises and rock-hard counterpoints urgently rising to his face. Before long, I had peppered his cheeks and chin with so many facts that he looked like a Dick Cheney hunting-expedition member after being shot with 10 guage's worth of French vanilla ice cream.

The sweet release of my pent-up political opinions was so powerful my toes curled up and I moaned softly -- moaned softly, in sorrow for the semi-fascist state of our nation -- and then I put my face against his soft chesthairs and cried for the people of Iraq.

Then I gave him $100 for cab-fare and kicked his hustler ass out of my room. I had to sleep if I wanted to be on my game for the next night's performance.

So I would say to any liberal who fears being "outed" for his beliefs -- don't be afraid to get your political freak on, even if it's with a total stranger you just met in a gay chatroom before having anonymous unsafe discourse with in a shabby discount hotel. It can be very relaxing.

Thanks for listening,

Clay Aiken

(PS: I really, really am into chicks, by the way. Anyone know where I can score some, uhhh, what's it called again, female pudendum? I could seriously go for some fine female pudendum right about now.)

posted by Ace at 02:20 PM

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