Well, that one time that I had sex, I got all confused and happy and flushed and tingly and disoriented. It was the best three minutes of my life.

James Lileks, who we know had sex at least once, is worried about a President that can’t focus on the job because he might be thinking about bumping uglies with someone other than his wife and then Western Civilization will come crumbling down around our ears and Gnat will never get to sing Tomorrow in the annual Miss Cutest Minneapolis Dimples Little Sweetie Pie Pageant and that would make Jesus cry:

Does that matter in a Senator? A Congressman? A governor? Probably not. Oh, but if he lied to his wife he’ll lie to us! Trust me: many a faithful politician has lied to his constituency without first bedding a chippie to see how this lying stuff worked for him. But it matters in a President, for one reason: I just don’t want a guy who’s thinks a lot about whether his dowsing rod will find a new stream, okay? Yes, yes, as Glenn put it, I have to say that, to me, how Kerry would do on the war is a lot more important than what (er, or who) he’s doing in the sack.”

True enough. But what I want is focus. Serial philanderers lack focus. (If that’s what he is, and I have no idea.) I want a guy who keeps his jacket on when he’s in the Oval Office, to say nothing of his trousers. I don’t want a guy who gets The Itch now and then, and finds the portion of the day devoted to scratching that itch getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until once again we get an intern scandal right about the time we’re supposed to be concentrating on Iranian nuclear tests.

Because if there is one guy who knows about scratching that itch and getting more sex than Brent Baker with a four hour erection, it’s James Lileks.

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Yeah. Like I would tell you....