Guys! Stop wasting time on the internet–go vote! Go be a citizen! Exercise your rights! Then come back and read this extremely probing and serious political discussion in which editors Jennifer Wright and Ashley Cardiff parse the benefits of FMK’ing the following politicians: Barack Obama, Mitt Romney and… Ron Paul, for lack of a better choice (after all, he’s always going to be there). Ahead, we consider the consequences of the media’s liberal bias and potentially commit treason. Free speech is awesome!

Jennifer:  Okay. So I proposed doing a Fuck Marry Kill with presidential candidates, and I wanted to do Mitt Romney, Barack Obama and Margaret Thatcher, but Ashley wouldn’t let me, probably because she’s xenophobic and hates women. So we decided on Ron Paul. In which case, I feel I should ask – could we consider “snuggle” as a fourth option?

Ashley:  Because Ron Paul looks like an adorable marionette?

Jennifer: Precisely. Or a Raggedy Andy doll. Or that guy from Saw with the cute bowties.

Ashley: Every time I see him talk, I’m reminded of the particular South Park animations of characters who have lower jaws that move  independently of their faces, like Terrence and Phillip. Or Saddam Hussein.

Jennifer:  Hahahahahaahah.

Ashley: It’s true.

Jennifer: He’s so cute. So, marry Ron Paul for those reasons? No. I mean, let’s be honest. I’d probably marry Romney. I’m currently googling “Romney private school for children.”

[time passes]

Belmont Hill School for Boys. Oh, okay, Obama’s kids go to Sidwell Friends School. Kind of a toss-up. Though I like the one gender thing! I think it teaches them to repress their feelings better.

"You wouldn't understand, Mitt. It's President stuff."

Ashley:  I mean, no one is going to send your kids to private school and fill your shoe closets with Manolo Blahniks faster than Romney. Also, you’d find his terrifying lack of awareness of his own outrageous privilege really endearing!

Jennifer:  When there were hurricanes, Mitt would say things like “people should immediately evacuate to their second home.”

Ashley: Still. I can’t really imagine you with someone super-religious.

Jennifer:  No, that’s true. But I can’t imagine breaking up the Obama’s marriage.

Ashley:  Hahaha. Ann Romney can pack up her Oscar de La Renta twin sets and fuck off, though.

Jennifer:  I mean, I can try to envision a seduction of Barack Obama, but in every scenario he just points out that he’s married and looks really disappointed in me.

Ashley: Just all reticent and proud.

Jennifer:  Ann Romney will ride into the sunset on a beautiful horse, off to a land filled with adventure.

Ashley:  It’s true. She’ll go pan for gold or something. She’s too much of a pioneer woman for this politics hooey anyway. …I don’t actually believe that.

Jennifer:  Me neither, really. Okay, so, now I’d feel bad about breaking up either marriage. I just straight-up don’t think Obama would go for it, though. My seduction efforts, I mean. I think he’d be really polite as he shot me down. I don’t think marrying or fucking Barack is even an option. So I guess you’d have to shoot him in a rage after he rebuffed you.

Ashley:  Isn’t that treason?

Because they're too busy using your tax dollars on abortions and communism!

Jennifer:  Well, I mean, you’ll go down in history. A Lifetime movie will almost certainly be made about you. Some call it treason, I call it an inevitability that some young actress will whip on a fake nose to play you 50 years down the road.

Ashley:  It’s true, I don’t have a really Hollywood nose.

Jennifer:  I guess kill Obama in a fit of jealous, spurned woman rage, then, and become famous. And marry Romney because there won’t really be all that much sex, and I could laugh at second home jokes forever. And… oh, God, wait.

Ashley:  I hope they call it The Day The White House Turned Red: The Ashley Cardiff Story or… Treasonable Doubt. That’s much better.

Jennifer:  Treasonable Doubt… hahaha, that makes no sense given the context of the movie.

Ashley:  Lifetime plays pretty fast and loose with that stuff. By the way, I was thinking… what if the liberal media bias has misreported this entire election cycle and Romney is not Morman, but rather… Mer-man?


Ashley: I didn’t really have any place to go with that.

Jennifer:  I mean, then you could not fuck him, either.

Ashley:  I always wondered how they got around that. Clearly, there’s a breeding population. Or else there would be no mer-people.

...Wait a minute.

Jennifer:  They do it in the French style. I think this is a problematic debate insofar as either for moral reasons or for reasons of having tails for legs you cannot fuck the candidates. Except for Ron Paul, because he believes in personal freedom.

Ashley:  Hm. I feel like the only time Mitt Romney would look comfortable and capable while speaking in public–as opposed to stammering, soulless and awkward–would be if he was holding a trident. Food for thought, Jen.

Jennifer:  Marry Romney. Ride a seahorse in the next summer Olympics. That’s change I can believe in.

Ashley:  This election, I’m really worried about Red Tide. That’s why my gay and female friends are shit out of luck!

Jennifer:  Harmful algae is people too!

Ashley:  You totally Googled that.

Jennifer:  Of course, I don’t know what you’re talking about when you talk about plants. So, I’m going to kill Obama because he will certainly spurn me in any other regard, because he is incredibly upstanding. I’m going to marry Mitt for… reasons. And I guess I’ll be doing really weird stuff with Ron Paul. Actually seems like he might be fun in that department. I mean, weird fun.

Ashley:  I only know what Red Tide is because I eat like a 19th century plutocrat, and if you consume enough oysters, sooner or later someone will mention it. I’m stymieing this discussion, aren’t I?

Jennifer:  Make your choices.


Ashley:  Fine. I’d marry Obama because he’d let me smoke cigarettes in the Situation Room. I’d fuck Romney and do all kinds of unspeakable shit to him–see how unwavering his belief in God is after I’m done with him. And Paul, Paul would have to go.

Jennifer:  Really? Romney? You? REALLY? It is… because you like whimsical underwear?

Ashley:  I don’t even know, honestly. I feel like this conversations undermines us both.

Jennifer:  I mean, I feel pretty bad about imagining myself shooting the nicest seeming president ever.

Ashley:  I know. What’s wrong with you? He’s a devoted husband and loving father.

Jennifer:  Oh, God, every day in every way I undermine my ability to get a nice seat at The Met Club.

Ashley:  You made your bed, Jennifer. You’re going to have to get in it, every night. Beside Mitt Romney. Neptune of Utah.

Jennifer:  I’m moving to France.

Ashley:  They’ll never accept you!

Jennifer:  I know!

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