the obama effect


Erica: hey, are you ok?

Joy: I have a problem, do you have a sec?

Erica: kind of – I am in the middle of saving reproductive rights for the women of New York, but I will e-listen

Joy: okay, so, whenever I see Barack Obama speak, I want to make out with someone and I’m worried about what that says about me, and, if president, what that will mean. I mean, what if he announces that we’re going to war and all I can think about is how much I want to jump someone? Last night was just a 30 minute spot and I could hardly contain myself.

Erica: hahaha, is this a real problem?


Erica: honey, I love you. But this is not, in fact, a serious problem. It’s very easy to fix. I feel that way too when I see Obama — hope is an aphrodisiac.  As is a politician you can believe in. And those feelings have been dormant for so long, so now that it’s finally hitting it’s overwhelming. And others feel the same way. I am sure you can find someone to be your Obama make out buddy.

Joy, call me.

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