The emails were not found on Clinton’s server but on a device that former Congressman Anthony Weiner used to send penis portraits to underage girls.
How the possibly classified emails turned up next to Weiner’s collection of underwear selfies is assumed to be the fault of his estranged wife and Hillary's bottom lady, Huma Abedin, who communicates with Weiner by email because, like everybody else Weiner wants to have sex with, she doesn’t want to be in the same room as him.
What worries me is that the FBI might have my emails, too, because I’ve sent a few to Huma. Yeah, I admit it. I think she’s hot. What attracts me most to her is that she is an empowered woman, a major player on the world stage, who still has an absolutely despicable snot for a husband. I always feel that I have a shot at any woman with those kind of low standards, so I might have sent her an email or two hinting that I was available for hookup purposes.
Now the FBI may have them, and I’m worried. I don’t need the Feds to know “I’ve never slept with a Muslim girl,” which I may have written to Huma. Also, I might have typed, “Now that you’ve secretly founded ISIS, I bet you’re thinking about kicking back in San Diego,” at one point in our relationship.
That doesn’t sound too stalky, does it? I don’t need the FBI on my case. I’m still trying to repair my relationship with the local police, after I “accidentally” rear-ended the jitney belonging to the meter maid who wrote me that chickenshit ticket about not having my wheels turned sufficiently towards the curb.
But that’s neither here nor there. I did cc Huma on an order to my local liquor store, pointing out to her that in addition to my regular weekend stock-up on beer and Jägermeister, I had added a couple bottles of Lebanese wine, in case she wanted to swing by.
In my opinion, that’s just being thoughtful.
When I asked her if she was bisexual, it wasn’t to pry—a couple of my friends just wanted to know. The FBI probably does, too, so if she had answered that email, they would. I’m already cooperating with the investigation, see?
Well, it’s time to bite the bullet, and see what’s really there, before I have to read about it on the news…
Wow! I just checked my sent mail folder, and it turns out that all this time I haven’t been writing to Huma at all. I’ve been writing to George Clooney’s wife, Amal.
Sorry about the mix-up, George.