The Readers of AoSHQ have been creating Harlequin Romance type lines for the Mark Sanford soap opera. I tried to arrange the best of them into a coherent story, but then the comment device FAILED (as it oftern does). I will probably update if it comes back online.

Her beauty left him incapable of speech, like Barack Obama without a teleprompter. He walked toward her with the hungry ferocity of Bill Clinton approaching a cheeseburger.And at his smoldering glance, the last shreds of her will evaporated like war protestors after February 2009.

He stripped off his leather workman’s pants, wet with labor and the June Argentinian sun, revealing a pulsating manhood that seemed to fill the room like a road production of Evita.

“Ay Dios Mio!” she exclaimed, shaking her maracas in desirous fear. “Es is no possible!”