Oh, Carrie! I want the solace you only can give. It is awful to hunger so and be so wholly denied. . . . Wouldn’t you like to hear me ask if we only dared and answer, 'We dare,' while souls rejoicing sang the sweetest of choruses in the music room? Wouldn’t you like to get sopping wet out on Superior — not the lake — for the joy of fevered fondling and melting kisses? Wouldn’t you like to make the suspected occupant of the next room jealous of the joys he could not know, as we did in morning communion at Richmond?ADDED: What do you make of "sopping wet out on Superior — not the lake"? I was entertaining the theory that "Superior" was his name for his penis (like John Thomas in "Lady Chatterley's Lover").
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Putting the hard in Harding: "The Letters That Warren G. Harding’s Family Didn’t Want You to See."
"Honestly, I hurt with the insatiate longing, until I feel that there will never be any relief untilI take a long, deep, wild draught on your lips and then bury my face on your pillowing breasts."
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Nonsense, I have it on good authority that no one had ever had sex before I discovered it in the early '90s.
Must be nice for a POTUS having a "Slow Day" in the White House to become so distracted.
Leave President Harding his amorous privacy.
Mencken was not a fan of Harding's efforts with his pen.
"He writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash."
I suppose the "G" stands for "Goodand."
I started reading the letters, but quit after a two or three. I felt like a voyeur.
Pre-FDR presidents (in peacetime, at least) had less to do because the federal government was so much smaller?
What do you make of "sopping wet out on Superior — not the lake"? I was entertaining the theory that "Superior" was his name for his penis (like John Thomas in "Lady Chatterley's Lover").
Poppycock!
"Superior" was probably just a coded reference to Longfellow and his immortal poem, Hiawatha.
Well, Harding's letters are nowhere near as obscene as the Oral Passions of William Howard Taft. But then again, they probably aren't made up out of whole cloth.
After that issue of NatLamp came out, rumor had it that it was banned in Ohio, the home state of William Howard Taft.
I heard he wasn't a bad prez, either. The US recovered from the postwar depression right smart.
I think that in one of the other letters, it comes out that Harding referred to his penis more modestly as "Jerry."
What surfed said. There are things I don't need or want to know.
What do you make of "sopping wet out on Superior — not the lake"? I was entertaining the theory that "Superior" was his name for his penis (like John Thomas in "Lady Chatterley's Lover").
Maybe she was a "squirter"?
Back in the 1920's, the editors at the Penthouse Forum always wondered about those anonymous letters that kept coming in on White House stationery.
"Sirs:
I never thought this would happen to me...."
Now we know.
I seem to recall hearing that these letters were written in an ink that turned purple, hence "purple prose".
I hereby nominate Young Hegelian for Comment Of The Day!
His more famous mistress, Nan Britton, wrote a book about getting banged by the president in a White House closet.
Britton later wrote a book about the illegitimate daughter she claimed he fathered, "The President's Daughter." In Chicago in the 1950, Ms. Britton befriended my mother, and ended up babysitting me when I was an infant.
Making me only two degrees from Mark Hanna, Calvin Coolidge and Robert LaFollette.
There's a street in Marion, the town they were from, called Superior, but I don't know why they would want to get wet on it. I don't recall there being a pond or anything near it, though it is near his tomb now.
He's almost as lustful as James Joyce.
At least he didn't have a fart fetish like James Joyce:
“It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora’s fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also. “
makes you look at Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in an entirely different light.
Insert Moby Dick joke here --> "Thar she blows!"
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