Sculptor Daniel Edwards creation, The Presidential Bust of Hillary Rodham Clinton: The First Woman President of the United States of America, was unveiled Wednesday at New York’s Museum of Sex.
Masterpieces have short titles like Mona Lisa or The Last Supper, trashy pieces of art need long titles to entice philistines.
Edwards’ sculpture features the head and bust of Hillary Clinton showing more cleavage than a desperate streetwalker.  I hope none of my readers are eating breakfast while reading this editorial.
Edwards hopes his creation will spark discussion about sex, politics and celebrity. Hillary’s bust is more effective than saltpeter, it will squash all talk of sex. After seeing a photo of Edwards’ monstrosity, I think I’m going to become a celibate like Paris Hilton.
“Honey snuggles, you said visiting the Museum of Sex would give our sex life a spark, but after seeing Hillary’s bust I want to joing a freakin’ monastery.”
Edwards said his “work of art” features a “soft presidential smile”. Actually he got that part right, whenever I see Hillary smile, I never fail to see the rigid and stony reality behind it.
Lets hope Edwards is as good a prognosticator as he is a sculptor. Hillary’s bust belongs in a garage sale and the real Hillary belongs in an Arkansas outhouse — not the White House.
