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The Automotive Industry is a Gay Conspiracy

Santorum demonstrates how not to clutch the gear shift.

By Rick Santorum

DETROIT, MI -- Thank you! Thank you. Yes, it’s a great night to be in Detroit, ladies and gentlemen, the city where the American dream was designed and manufactured.  Thank you!

Ladies and Gentlemen: I know what the automotive industry means to you – many of your families have worked on American cars and trucks for generations, and that’s just fine. That’s great, in fact.  America needs transportation, and America needs you. 

 But my fellow Americans – don’t you see the problem with this city?

No, I’m not talking about the overwhelmed police force, or the rising crime rates. I’m talking about how you have all been pawns of the gay conspirators that are running the automotive industry. Every single one of you has unwittingly supported the inherent homosexualization of America through your vehicular ambitions.

 Oh come on. You guys know what I’m talking about. It’s not like I’m the only guy who’s ever looked at a car’s tailpipe and seen a big metal phallus coming out the car’s backside. I mean, why does the penis – excuse me – exhaust pipe, need to come out the back anyway? And don’t even get me started on driving stick-shift. Feels like you’re giving the car a goddamn hand-job the whole time you’re driving to Jiffy Lube. And I won’t stand for it!

You’d have to be blind not to see the homoeroticism flowing out of today’s American cars. I can’t even say “Dodge Ram” without envisioning two sculpted, sweaty male specimens engaging in some hot, panting, sinful copulation.  Pumping gas?  More like pumping ass!  And don’t even get me started on the big, hard, drive shaft.

And leather seats!  I don’t know about you, but when I sit in a new Ford F-150’s upholstered seat, it just feels like some big, deep-voiced hunk named Bubba is giving it to me from behind, wearing his leather vest and shorts as the engine pistons just keep pounding! And that’s not even with heated seats!

I can’t stand by and watch Toyota- and Chevy-designed phalluses hump each other down I-95 and the dirt roads of America. It’s time to end this gay-spiracy. If the liberals in Washington want to silence me, they’ll have to tie me to a chair and put a ball-gag in my mouth, and then drip hot, hot candle wax all over my bare chest.

In the meantime – buy a boat. Those things are super masculine.  I have never thought of gay sex – horrible, throaty gay sex – while looking at a motorboat.  

© 2012