Bill Clinton got hot under the collar when he was asked about Monica Lewinsky. Then he apologized for getting hot under the collar, as if he’s still supposed to be sorry.

Come on! And I’m not talking about a blue dress.

Bill Clinton should have a writing 3-way with Monica and Hillary. Then do a book tour. Toss aside the narrative of shame and take pride in being linked together by desire.

It begs the question: why does temporary attraction have a permanent stigma?

Imagine if every sexual impulse you ever had came back to claim its dignity. Isn’t sex about pushing aside understanding, casting-off your better angels, stomping on the moral compass.

You know who owes an apology to Monica Lewinsky? We do. We all do. We judged her and looking back, we had no business judging her. What did we know? Really?

We knew what we were told by Evangelicals, the same Evangelical Scumbags who had no problem with Donald Trump fucking a porn star in the delivery room. Donald Trump might as well have fucked Stormy Daniels in the delivery room, the act was that connected to the birth of his son. But isn’t sex about poking the taboo, desecrating the sacred, humiliating your wife. It isn’t for me, not the part about humiliating my wife. But it’s clearly something Donald Trump gets-off on, and in all honesty, it’s none of my fucking business. So I apologize, Monica. I had no business judging you. I apologize, President Clinton. I had no business nosing around in your marriage.

As for Melania and Donald, it’s clear you deserve each other.