I was speaking with an acerbic group of politically correct women the other day. And I came to quickly realize that in love and war a woman can be much more barbarian than a man.
Finally I spoke up. I said I totally agreed with them – intellectually and academically — about how they think they should be accorded by men. But please, I implored, speak to my 5-million-year-old winkie. Because it operates like the weather – totally independent of the planet.
And when you titivate yourselves in tubetops and FMP stiletto heels and bumper sweaters, my little periscope rises up to scratch and sniff. Unlike women, a man is a two-headed ogre.
You can imagine the angry whirlwind of gnarling and teeth gnashing that pursued. But I says what I says. And I don’t need to says no more.
In fact, I wasn’t going to say anything at all on this subject because everybody, once again, seems to be shouting and shooting. And no one is listening.
We need to be reminded that men are men. Women are women. And life is life.
And after perhaps a couple million more years of stewing in our evolutionary cauldron perchance we will come to understand each other a smidgeon better.
I guess this all is whipping up our furious juices once again in the clamor of the Italian and Egyptian and French and American and who-knows-where-else politicians who are being exposed for their winkies being up the wrong address.
It has long been said that a politician should never be caught in bed with a dead woman or a live man. He also shouldn’t be caught trying to explain himself.
Never explain. In the glare of the press and paparazzi it only plays to the prurient Main Street Babbits who spend their vacuous lives as spectators to the human theater.
If I were Bill Clinton I would have fired all my advisors and stated loudly and boldly: Yeah, I banged the belle. Why do you think I became President? You try sleeping with Hilary.
And we would have forgiven him. He’s a bubba. But he’s our bubba. Besides, he’s from Arkansas. And that’s what they do with pigs in Arkansas.
The same with Anthony Weiner. What he did was nothing more than any stupid, dumb fraternity degenerate has done. He also should have fired his advisors and stepped up to the foul line.
And with a smile in his voice he should have snorted: “Look, I’m Jewish. I was over-circumcised at the briss. So I needed to stuff a few extra socks in my BVDs. I did what I did. But it was all virtual. All Jewish sex is virtual. Except for one time, and now my wife is pregnant. Give it a break. Nothing else happened. No harm, no foul. Now let’s get back to work before those Republicans get to sticking more than socks in our little white pants.”
And we would have forgiven him. I mean we forgive actors. We forgive our athletes. We forgive our neighbors. We forgive ourselves.
Unless it is some hypocrite who is preaching family values while humping all the sheep in the moonlit pasture, just what, precisely, is the problem?
Contrary to popular spew it doesn’t seem to be their problem. It is more our problem. In a country that barely exercises its sacred right to vote and thereby actually elect its public officials we sure do a lot of braying about the misconduct of those bums in office.
The bums are in office because not enough of us voted to put other bums in their bleacher seats. So we’re complaining about the actions of people we didn’t even take the time to vote against. I know that the party system of picking candidates is a debauchery. But once again: if you don’t vote, your mouth don’t count.
Look we harbor expectations of our elected public officials. And rightfully so. They obviously can’t do much anything else. Good or bad. So we’re providing them a very good living. Meals. Cars. Manicured coifs. Very good salaries. A lot of free time to play golf. Long vacations. Great travel. Pensions. And all sorts of wonderful perks.
So we should have high expections.
But we’ve got to remember, they are human. They only mirror our own poor conduct. As I’ve said previously, no matter how smart or sincere they are, all people spend most of their days doing stupid things. Men will be dorks. Women will be equal and opposite.
But what would you rather have? Someone who is a character? Or someone who is little more than a tie and a suit?
For me, I may be accused of being a bastard, but at least I am an interesting bastard. In truth, though, what is worse for a politician than being wrong, is to be dull and boring.
In truth, I don’t care if our majority leader “Boner” plays too much golf. I don’t care if the former majority leader Pelosi spends too much time on her hair. I don’t care that Weiner wasn’t all that we expected him to be. I want to know that they are doing what we elected them to do. And what they do on the side – unless it involves robbing, raping, pillaging and abuse of power – we should care no more about than what we might observe the naked neighbor’s wife doing on her side…or back…or on all fours.
The business of America is minding our business. It’s long past time that we got back in focus. For our religions preach to us about forgiving our shortcomings.
Like I told those overly politically-correct-women: I have 5 million years of DNA tattooed in my soul. I am trying to be more of a man. And I’d like them to be more of a woman. I have lived and worked in countries where they could never even have this conversation.
We must appreciate our progress. Not resent our past.
And dats yDrewIS on DIS penal colony.