Today, President Joe Biden has the world against him. Despite his countless legislative wins, many so-called Democrats would rather see one of the best public servants in modern American history pack his bags, leave the White House, and retire. Well, to them I say: You could not be more wrong. Joe Biden deserves four more years of making my centrist baby boomer pussy sopping wet.
Sorry, Bernie Bros. I’m a 67-year-old lifelong Democrat; my vagina is absolutely saturated with thick, hot clam sauce from the mere thought of a second Joe Biden term; and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.
That’s right. Even just mentioning Joe Biden and his moderate agenda has awakened within the very depths of my loins a hot, bubbling spring of freshly squeezed, unpasteurized pussy nectar. From the day he was elected, Joe Biden got to work fixing America, and just thinking about it, as I type, is conjuring forth a geyser of juices so powerful it’s all but melted a gaping hole in my high-waisted granny panties.
Right now I’m sitting in a pool of my own boiling hot crotch broth reflecting on all the civility, respect, and compromise Joe Biden has brought back to Washington. The fact that he’s willing to talk to Republicans, be their friends, and actually hear them out is enough to flood my basement with so much lady sludge that, let’s just say, I’ll definitely be ripping out the carpet.
In 2024, we will need Joe Biden to “Build Back Better,” because this torrent of poon juice exploding from my aging snapper is going to cause serious damage to our great country.
Start stacking sandbags, people. There’s a deadly blue wave forming right between this loyal, Occupy Democrats–loving, ActBlue donor’s legs. When Joe Biden reached across the aisle and passed the $3 trillion Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, I should have called in the Coast Guard, because this upper-class, Ivy League–educated liberal’s clam dam is about to burst.
Unfortunately, many Americans are going to drown.
And the best part is, Joe Biden is just getting started. If he runs again in 2024 and starts wearing those aviators, licking ice cream cones, and saying things like “No malarkey,” I might actually pass out. I’m serious. I slid off my chair and am currently lying face down in several inches of my own absolutely putrid female fluids. Lord, help me.
At the end of the day, America needs someone like Joe Biden to heal our divided nation and restore it to a position of respect on the world stage. In 2024, I hope I can march my wet ham to the voting booth, slosh my boomer ass down, and let this baby rip.
So please join me, America. Let’s band together, get Biden into the White House, and drown together in my pussy juices for four more years.
Oh God. Yeah. That’s a gusher.