Ben Shapiro

Al Gore didn't merely invent the Internet. He invented romance.

At least that's how the mainstream media played his marriage to Tipper. When he Frenched her on national television in 2000, the journalistic crowd swooned. "In Vice President Al Gore's campaign to change his robotic image," gushed The New York Times, "nothing may have helped more than the big smooch ... the kiss had an old-fashioned, romantic innocence."

Now, that "old-fashioned, romantic innocence" has withered away. According to the 73-page police report by a Portland, Ore., masseuse, Gore is not only an attempted adulterer, he's a "crazed sex poodle." And if any of what is laid forth in the report is true, he's also exceptionally weird.

His romantic evening with the masseuse began in Victorian-enough manner; he called the front desk of the Hotel Lucia on Oct. 24, 2006 and asked for a massage. When the masseuse arrived, Gore immediately turned on the global warming, hugging the masseuse a bit too close: "The hug went on a bit long, and I was taken just a bit aback by it," said the masseuse. She also admitted that she didn't protest because Gore "was a VIP and a powerful individual and the Hotel Lucia had made it clear ... that they were giving him 'the royal treatment.'"

Apparently, "royal treatment" at the Hotel Lucia includes thigh massages, as well as angry demands for touching below the waist. Finally, Gore let loose with immortal phraseology, asking the masseuse to "release ... his second chakra there."

For those who do not know, a "chakra" is a Sanskrit word for a force center, which exists on the "etheric" body of man. What does that mean? Nobody knows, but it allows leftist grease bags like Al Gore to sound spiritual when all they really want is a happy ending from a masseuse.

But the masseuse's journey into Al Gore's romantic wonderland continued. As she attempted to back out of the room slowly, Gore leapt to his feet and "wrapped [her] in an inescapable embrace," while caressing her "back and buttocks and breasts." More than the planet had a fever, apparently.

After forcing another Frencher on the masseuse and suggesting that they use the "treat box" in the room, Gore finally brought out his most seductive move: he steered her into the bedroom, where he brought out his iPod. He wanted the masseuse to listen to talentless Pink's soporific attack on President George W. Bush, "Dear Mr. President." She asks Bush some questions in the song -- questions like "How do you sleep while the rest of us cry? ... How do you walk with your head held high? ... How can you say no child is left behind?" You can just see Gore bobbing his head in time to the music -- perhaps the great man even did a little sexy dance for the nameless masseuse.

Ben Shapiro

Ben Shapiro is an attorney, a writer and a Shillman Journalism Fellow at the Freedom Center. He is editor-at-large of Breitbart and author of the best-selling book "Primetime Propaganda: The True Hollywood Story of How the Left Took Over Your TV."
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