Vice Presidential candidate Paul Ryan will get TORO's full endorsement, so long as he keeps writing poetry about "getting ripped" and hating on "pussies."

Courtesy of our friends at The New Yorker, witness below a poem "written" by Ryan, worthy of the mighty canon of American literature. Truly, his words will one day frolick in the fields of appreciation frequented by Mark Twain, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and E.L. James.

We already wrote about how Ryan is a stud with the ladies, and his poetic sensibilities will only add to his capacity to get laid. God bless you, Paul Ryan. You truly are the King of Kings.

This morning I was at Equinox
Getting ripped and shredded, pumped and jacked,
Cross-training with Jeremy
Who totally kicks my butt.
And I was like, “I shall not let my foes define me.”
And I was so stoked
I punched Jeremy in the face.
Endorphins, mofo—
Sweet.
Who is Paul Ryan?
He can bench-press three times his weight,
Ochocinco a cinderblock in two,
Change the course of mighty rivers,
Bend steel in his bare hands,
And tug freighters with his teeth.
Paul Ryan:
Rock-hard abs,
Bulging delts,
Glistening pecs.
But not gay.
Ayn Rand wrote:
“The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.”
She could have been writing
About Paul Freakin’ Ryan.
I don’t read Ayn Rand anymore.
I disavow her atheist philosophy.
I just know that quote
Because it’s tattooed on my left oblique.
So join me
In Paul Ryan’s America:
Where heroes roam free
And pussies fear to tread.
Where a small boy from Wisconsin
Can grow up to join forces with a casino billionaire
To kick Iran in the cojones,
And leave behind the America of my foes:
Where the old and feeble
Expect food, medicine, and whatnot.
Not on my watch
Because I am Paul Ryan.
Paul Freakin’ Ryan.
Drop and give me twenty, America:
It’s clobberin’ time.