Should’ve just cooled your heels and ran for Senate (again) we said… and Robert Francis O’Rourke said fuck that I’m taking my newfound political darling status and running to be top gun.

Beto O’Rourke took on Ted Cruz. That’s hot.

At least it was hot, until he ruined it with his big male ego trip, “I was born to be in it” Vanity Fair cover and subsequent presidential campaign.

Also, that face. That body. Like your friend’s hot, lanky, absurdly charming step-dad who is always the first to volunteer to give an on-the-spot improv sermon when the regular pastor is sick went salt and pepper and now all the sudden all you can think of in church is really, how bad is adultery of a sin? Our Lord Jesus is a forgiving God, and he can forgive me of my indiscretions and breaking up my friend’s mom’s second marriage. Forgive me heaven daddy, I know Sunday is your day, but all I can think of his step-dad lovin’.

Anyway.

Let’s be honest, when Beto dropped the f-bomb in an impassioned succession speech as we were all struggling to swallow a “Ted Cruz is going to stay relevant pill” we all wanted to heal his pain… sexually.

I don’t even know what kind of nickname “Beto” even is, but in that moment I was ready to forgive both that nomenclature creativity, and the fact that he is a man.

But then he just had to ruin it, almost methodically, throughout the months of his now aborted political campaign.

Some of you may be mourning his campaign, or that he’s politically shot himself in both feet for any future endeavors.

I’m mourning the fact that he shot himself in both his penis and in my ovaries.

He is no longer the youth pastor you spoke with about the biblically-defined morals of masturbation a few too many times; he is the substitute teacher that made you believe in bullying.

How am I supposed to look at that chiseled face and have in my pants feelings when he male privileged his way into proclaiming his birthright to a job he has no qualifications for? There’s enough of that in my actual everyday life, Robert!

All admit it, I almost started to feel impure feelings for him again when he started his nationwide fuck guns, I’m taking your AR-15’s press tour, but then I remembered all of the times he had flip flopped on that issue *checks notes* a few short months ago, and stole Cory Booker’s duolingo thunder at that one democratic debate, and alas, my love tunnel relaxed.

I even used to be attracted to his DUI mugshot, which to be honest, was like the one criticism of him no one actually cared about, yet now when I look at non-under-the-influence Beto without hearing, “for the last seven years, my family hasn’t seen me,” on loop in my head.

ABSENT FATHERS AND EMOTIONALLY NULL MARRIAGES AREN’T HOT, BETO!

Oh, sometimes your wife raises three kids “without your help,” Beto? Well, I am bisexual, I have enough opportunities to be horny that don’t pertain to you. I don’t need you. I can raise my blood pressure without your help.

Still, it is a goddamn shame. Rarely is a politician objectively hot, and not like, well you don’t look a million years old or have a Mitch McConnell triple chin “hot.”

You had that. You were our aesthetically pleasing every twenty years astronomical event and you ripped it from underneath our eyeballs. How dare you. Now I’m going to have to hope for Jon Ossoff to come back into the political arena.

People on twitter may be begging you to run for senate, and your campaign staffers may be explaining how this was all the honor of their lives, but the intellectuals of the online world will be here, remembering when you used to be hot.

I know what you did last summer, Beto.

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