Not pictured: Argentine sex kitten.

[Hat tip to my friend Pete for the link.] Well kids, another day, and another Republican turns out to be a lyin’ cheatin’ AWOL SOB. But I give the presumably-soon-to-be-ex-Governor credit for one thing–he’s a pretty decent prose stylist. He’s erotic, but not too trashy, and he’s upfront about his emotions and his mixed feelings, but you never get the impression he’s at loose ends. Check out this passage, from July 8 of last year.

[…] I went out and ran the excavator with lights until the sun came up. To me, and I suspect no one else on earth, there is something wonderful about listening to country music playing in the cab, air conditioner running, the hum of a huge diesel engine in the back ground, the tranquillity that comes with being in a virtual wilderness of trees and marsh, the day breaking and vibrant pink coming alive in the morning clouds – and getting to build something with each scoop of dirt.

Fuckin’ poetry, man. As I was just saying to Jeremy Schmall in gchat, if I was sleeping with this guy, and he was writing me letters like this, I’d totes be sticking around to see how things panned out.  Read all they’ve got up so far (they promise more to come) here.

RELATED (in a sense): Greta Christina’s classic essay, “Are We Having Sex Now Or What?” (via Susie & Aretha Bright at Jezebel)