History was made. Hillary Clinton is now the first woman to clinch a major party nomination for president.
Wonderful.
Powerful.
And now can we get to that bag of bones she carries around her neck, Bill Clinton.
I couldn’t hear Bill last night over my fear he was going to croak on stage at the Democratic National Convention. I know he has heart disease and I know he used to hit the fries hard, but he’s barely breathing up there, folks. And his speech was heavy on sucking the lifeblood out of you like a porch vampire . He assumes you have nothing but time so he’ll hit you with forty years worth of autobiographical anecdotes just for walking past his porch. He’s THAT GUY.
Back in 2010 Bill had two stents inserted into his heart because heart disease. My father has the same medical condition so don’t think I don’t have the feels for people with chronic health issues. I do. I just don’t have the feels for Bill Clinton who’s supposed to turn my lady parts into mush with the gravitas of his personality.
You mean the personality of the Poltergeist 2 preacher? Because that’s the vibe I was getting last night.
In the 90s of my youth, Bill was Runner-in-Chief. He jogged on the campaign trail, he jogged as president in shorts worthy of slut-shaming they were so ball-huggingly inappropriate. His dad bod and thunder thighs were ahead of their time.
So much ahead of their time that now every runner who thinks they can run themselves right into immortality should be cringing at the creaky thing before their eyes. Last night Bill took the stage, lifted his arm for a wave, and I held my breath because I wasn’t sure he was going to make it.
He looks that exhausted by life.
Hillary is known for jewel-toned pantsuits, drinking whiskey, unfortunate haircuts and not running. It’s like the only thing she hasn’t supported. Or flip-flopped or been pressured to address: working out.
As I think about this more, she’s becoming a real person to me. Like, she completely knew the jig was up with Bill and she let him go out there and look a fool and then laughed at his dumb ass — putting his leg up, making dignitaries perform cardio, letting his balls stank up the breeze.
Hillary probably looks appropriately older because she slept in and gave zero fucks about jogging and then got shit done.
This woman is a hero.
Why have I given her such a hard time over the past two years? She’s down with everything I’m down with: no running. A brisk walk will suffice. She probably loves gluten, too.
Hillary for president!
