The Return Of Inkmaster Cuttle!

At a meet-and-greet on a one-way street
As I beat the concrete with the soles of my feet
Saw a sweet petite with a smokin’ seat
And discreetly but fleetly I asked her to eat
But I beat a retreat through the heat in defeat
When she asked “Are you one of them Librul Elite?”

Resigned to my fate, I just ate off my plate
While Kate set me strait about bait in Kuwait
And the blue state crime rate, dictators, desecrators,
Lightweight running mates makin’ great procreators
It’s late while I wait but she doesn’t abate
The spate of hate she relates at my pate

So the pain in my brain begins straining again
And I’m looking in vain to obtain some champagne
I can drain, she sustains her refrain to no gain.
I try to explain that I’m going insane
Make it plain her campaign I will hold in disdain
I am not on the train for the reign of McCain

When at last I convey what I wanted to say
That I’m not gonna stray, she displays her dismay,
Then “Ok”, makes her way from the little buffet
I survey her display as she’s walking away
And her hips start to sway like some sort of cliché
I say “Hey… wait… hey… was that Tina Fey?”