Well I'll tell you what Barack is not doing--closing the deal.
It's like he's got a girl back at his place, they're talking about philosophical things such as the myth of soul mates on his couch. The air is thick with sexual tension. He thinks about the lean-in, but it's as if she's miles away. She's ready for a move, but instead Barack awkwardly announces it's getting late and he has to get up early. Most likely because he's gay.
Is that a president you want, America? A sissy boy who is all talk and no bow-chicka-bow-wow? Or do you want someone who will bag the chick, by any means necessary (including the use of GHB if he/she has to) then will brag to their friends the next day about how the girl was begging for it. I'm that type of president.
James Carville said something salient on the topic: "If she gave him one of her cojones, they'd both have two."
Not exactly how I would have put it, but there you go: Yes, I have three balls. You probably have a lot of questions. Is the third ball a mutation and hence ineffective at producing sperm? Are all three of my balls in one scrotum or do I have a spare ball inside a spare scrotum like that extra button in the little plastic baggy they give you when you buy a new shirt?