Mash Notes From Hell

By Sniffles

Which love letter would you rather receive? Mark Sanford's or John Ensign's?

We cats vote for Sanford's. Sure, his e-mails to Maria Chapur were "ugh" to the nth degree — what with all that stuff about "holding two magnificent parts of you" and the visual they conjure of a Casper Miquetoast-type guy plunging into his Argentine paradise. But at least they were kind of romantic.

Ensign's? Yeccch. You can't really make it out here, but his letter to Cynthia Hampton says "I used you for my own pleasure" and goes on and on about God, who "never intended us to do this. I walked away from Him and my relationship with Him has suffered terribly."

We cats don't know about you, but if we were the other woman, the Senator's relationship with the Almighty would be the last thing on our minds. In fact, from recent developments in this tawdry affair, we'd say that these days, Hampton and her angry hubby are more about "Show Us the Money" than "God Bless Us, Every One."

Well, Ensign deserves it. On top of being a right-wing Republican hypocrite, he's a terrible writer.