Mahmoud Ahmadinejad stood on a gym mat facing a floor to ceiling mirror. He was wearing boxer shorts. Nothing else. He was watching himself jump rope. He held the ivory handles that were attached to a red cloth rope, and he was whipping the rope over his head and under his feet very fast, his feet barely rising off the matt, just enough to let the rope zip underneath. Mahmoud examined his body as he kept up the pace of the exercise. He was in excellent condition. In October he will turn fifty. Fifty, he thought. Half a century, and he had the body of a thirty-year old. His accomplishments were many. He had been to war. He had a degree in civil engineering. He had been mayor of Tehran. And now President. President of Iran. And he got here without compromising health or, if he dare have the vain thought, his good looks. Handsome, healthy, smart, accomplished, brave and powerful. Mahmoud smiled as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead. (more…)
The clock radio turned on at 9:00 AM, playing jazz from WBGO Radio, 88.3. Bill Clinton opened his eyes. The jazz made him feel warm and fuzzy, and it was a good way to start the day, particularly the incredibly dreary days he had been spending lately. He slowly got out of bed, feeling every muscle and bone complain. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, he felt his gut ball up, filling like a hard rubber balloon. He had to piss real bad, but he also had a fairly nice erection going on. He briefly thought about masterbating, but then decided against it, fearing it might drain the day of one crucial life fuel he had left. Clinton also had a talk to give later that day at Hunter College with Political Science students in Manhattan, mostly young women, and he had found that a bit of abstinence increased the libido and made his talks more interesting and enjoyable. He struggled to the bathroom for a shower and shave. (more…)
The clinic was located in a mission-style ranch in Topanga Canyon, a structure that was detailed with heavy beams of horizontal oak supported by a crazy quilt of irregular stones. The windows were all multi-colored Mondrian-like stained glass. It was just another multi-million dollar residence like the ones that were perched throughout this lush meandering Los Angeles crevice. Meg Ryan parked her dark green Land Rover in one of the empty stalls that lined one side of a gravel driveway. The building was surrounded by palms and twelve-foot manicured hedges. Meg got out of the Rover wearing black loose lycra slacks that were too long, draping over the sides and back of her white Nike running shoes. Her top was also black, with long tight sleeves that belled neared her wrists and covered the back of her hands. Her sun glasses were large, and her hair uncharacteristically disheveled, unlike the hair style that she almost uniformly dons in all movies and public appearances. She carried a weathered navy blue Lands End canvas brief over her left shoulder, a cell phone grasped in her right hand. Meg pushed the large oak front door open. (more…)
Howard Stern faced the mirror that spread from wall to wall above seven bathroom sinks that were under mounted to black granite. The fixtures were brushed nickel. The floor tiles were tumbled marble. The stalls, though, were your standard issue aqua metal partitions with metal swinging doors. Howard was alone, so he felt comfortable fussing with his long hair. The formula he used that morning to cover the gray blended well, but he made sure that some silver strands remained, a device he did not really think worked to cover his hair vanity. He loved his hair. He stroked it, played with it, curled it in his fingers. It made Howard feel young. Afterall, it was a full head of hair. Not a chance he was going bald, and so he was going to flaunt it. (more…)
Richard Cheney walked into his bedroom, neck tie pulled lose, white shirt collar open, his dark blue blazer unbuttoned with a beer stain on the lapel. He was pale, and sacks of tired flesh hung beneath each eye. The bedroom was empty but he heard the water running in the bathroom, the door of which was ajar. (more…)
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