Says Suethor wanker: Here's my Sue-fantasy wherein I bang John Edwards! Of course, his wife has to die first. (Uhh, in the story, of course!)

Commenters say, "Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, this is not only sick and wrong--worse it is bad writing!" Or something to that general effect. (Not to mention the very squicked, "Uhh, you do know his wife has cancer, right, moron?" contigent.)

A political miniwank follows, during which someone comments with the oh-so-classy and meaningful, "Blow me you liberal hippy douche. W won and there is no going back."

Yay for rhetoric.

Another anonymouse observes the most important thing: "Guys, can we back off of the excessive political comments? This story would suck regardless of affiliation, even if it was about romancing Dick Cheney. It would just be slightly creepier."

Too true.

Story gets bad reviews (What? Bad reviews on the internet, and no "OMFG U R SO BRAVE 2 rite tihs plus it is HOTTtt PLSRTMORE KTHXBAI!!!1" Unthinkable.)

Eventually, sockpuppet author anonymice begin to weigh in: "Hey dipshit, just because you are a no talent assclown does not mean this lady can not write about what she wants. I think your response is completely off base."

And, is any internet fic wank complete without the author pulling the DLDR card out of her ass? "All I have to say is, if you don't like the story, don't read it." Ahh, now I feel satisfied.

For the record, the story is just about as bad as they come. I don't know why I prepared myself that morning the way I did. I'd taken an extra long shower, washing myself from my hair to my feet and shaving in all the right places. Then, once I had toweled off, I had applied deodorant and blown my long red hair dry, brushing out all the tangles and making sure it looked extra nice.
I then put on my silky black stay-up stockings, black lace push-up bra and matching thong panties, followed by my mid-calf-length black dress, which fit over my slim curves like a second skin. After that, I stepped into my black heels, fixed my makeup, and spritzed some Vera Wang cologne on my wrists, the backs of my knees, between my breasts, and behind my ears, perfuming myself as if I had a date.


Washing yourself from your hair to your feet? Why, on normal days she just washes to her waist! And "shaving all the right places", no less! She's on the prowl, yo.

ETA: Poli-fic mod gives tips on how to write a more sensitive RPF about Edwards and your Sue! This somehow strikes me as even funnier.