Nothing like resurrecting yourself from the ashes of ashes.
Monica Lewinsky is once again all over the news. In case you live under a rock, she in 1996 at twenty-two (now forty) gave the most famous blowjob in U.S. history, that we know of that is. I’m certain there are others we’re not privy to that could top hers, but you work with what you’ve got (I heard Snow White was caught with Sneezy, but Disney hushed it up).
This morning as it was being delivered door to door, I was accosted by her face on the front of The New York Post 
who naturally will use her up and coming Vanity Fair article to sell a gazillion papers.
The post headline…”MY LIFE SUCKS” is so original, and as a woman in Starbucks said, “Don’t you think it would have been wiser for her to shut-up?”
I have no idea why she consented to such a piece, but I can guess. Money…and I’m not saying it’s necessarily a greedy move.
Where Bill Clinton is still lauded everyplace he goes, she probably can’t buy milk without hearing an ugly slur. And we know how kind co-workers can be if you had Monica in the next cubicle. She probably can’t get a job where she’s remotely comfortable.
Clinton is a very charming man. I had heard this for years, but recently felt it for myself. I was working as a greeter at a fund raiser when he swept in. He looks as if he’s back lit, his silvery hair picking up light like a strobe. When he shook my hand it was warm…ah, I thought, he’s one of those men who barely needs a sheet when he sleeps. He even thanked me for being there even though he was just a guest. When I told him my name he said, “Su-zayna? with a zay or an aes?” See, and he wasn’t even flirting, this is just him flying on autopilot.
Imagine being a young, hormonal girl in his daily vicinity. It’s like a hungry fox walking into a hunter’s kitchen. 
And when he said, he never had sex with her, I remember saying that too when I was fifteen doing everything, but, in the back of Tommy Cosgrove’s father’s Caddie.
Oral sex is sex, and can be much messier than the old in and out, like eating fried chicken with your hands. And to think Bill almost got impeached just like Andrew Johnson, Lincoln’s successor. Of course he wasn’t accused of having his pants down around his ankles, but Congress did acquit them both (Johnson suspended Edwin Stanton, Secretary of War, without Senate permission).
I think the republicans were just jealous there were no lusty interns willing to blow their horns, if you will.
Personally I think it’s great we forgave old Bill, but don’t quite understand why Monica’s still wiggling on the hook.
Her latest rendition (like every time Sinatra came out of retirement and sang My Way), I was wronged, we’re both to blame, they made me the scapegoat, is because the lady needs cash, plain and simply.
And by the way, who doesn’t?
Vanity Fair is no shoddy rag. They pay well and will at least make her look less like the bimbo the Post is portraying her as, plus the quality of their photography is legendary.
One of things that stayed with me was when Bill gave Monica a copy of Walt Whitman’s famous book of poetry, Leaves of Grass, 
a very nice and sensitive gift. Makes you wonder if he actually had sex what he might have given her. Keys to the Library of Congress?
I like when she said…
“Sure, my boss took advantage of me, “but I will always remain firm on this point: it was a consensual relationship. Any `abuse’ came in the aftermath, when I was made a scapegoat in order to protect his powerful position.”
If you don’t buy that, just look who’s still standing.
Frankly blowjobs bore me. Like my friend Ed says, why engage when you can do such a better job yourself. The fact that she was seduced and succumbed, pun intended, to his oozing sex appeal isn’t all that fascinating.
What is though, is how many people will buy the June issue of Vanity Fair to read about it all over again. 
SB
