With so much media outrage over Hillary Rodham Clinton’s flip-flopping and lack of transparency, one would think that the prospective presidential candidate would put a little more effort into appearing both open and consistent to voters. Yet even now the former Secretary of State refuses to give a straight answer to what may be the most important question of this race: has HRC truly gone through menopause? Clinton tries to dodge this and related questions by citing “privacy,” stating that her vagina is “none of your business.” Well, Ms. Clinton, as a voter, your vagina is very much my business. This country has been asking the same questions for far too long, and frankly it’s time for some answers.

Unbeknownst to most Americans, the presidential period could have drastic and far reaching implications in areas ranging from foreign policy to national security. Clinton could, for instance, gravely endanger relations with our allies in Japan by crudely and unwittingly reproducing their national flag on her bed sheets. Clinton’s own safety could be threatened, as secret service agents would at times be unable to determine if she had been the target of a sniper or if she had simply leaked through her tampon with an appreciably heavy monthly flow. Fluids from Clinton’s vagina could block out the sun, drowning millions of Americans in a biblical deluge of human blood and placenta. Etcetera.

It is troubling that the alleged senator will not state her physical position on the pre/post menopausal debate, but perhaps more troubling are unrefuted allegations suggesting that she may, at this moment, be going through menopause. It is unthinkable that the commander in chief of this great nation could be forced to pull a Sam Jo* on the international stage during peace talks in the middle east. That she was supposedly a highly effective secretary of state is irrelevant. To mention her years of experience as a diplomat would be off-base. When one considers only the tangible facts, it is plain to see that we know next to nothing about the state of Hillary Clinton’s genitalia. The obvious implications leave one shocked and deeply disturbed.

It is possible, nae, perhaps likely, that this self-proclaimed former First Lady, this potential Commander In Queef, this dream within a nightmare within a pantsuit is currently embroiled in the throes of a hormonal, lustful, uterine binge, transforming her rational mind into a ruined hellscape of progesterone and hate. If this is indeed the case, Clinton’s repeated refusal to comply with reasonable requests for information, along with her apparent mood swings on matters of public policy and campaign finance, could be explained all too easily. This is not what we want in the white house. We cannot have the president of the United states of America throwing a bitch fit for no reason, asking Bill for a divorce, and curling up weeping on the Roosevelt Room couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. She has to understand that the ruler of the free world cannot take three months off work to go on a journey of self discovery through the Indian countryside.

Decent American taxpayers deserve transparency. They have the right to expect open and honest communication from politicians, a fact that Hillary Clinton tacitly denies. Is Clinton still fertile? What is the extent of her monthly flow? Has her mind been corrupted by hormonal id, rendering her temporarily into the walking spectre of fear manifest? It seems there are more questions than answers.
*the act of covering oneself in mashed chickpeas so as to maintain balanced estrogen levels in the absence of prescription medication