Senator Larry Craig's Daily To-Do List.
- Wake up on the right wing of the bed. Pay bedwarmer and send him off.
- Issue gay denial.
- Explain to wife over breakfast why I've suddenly started using curly red floss.
- Go to Capital.
- Vote against gay rights.
- Denounce gay marriage.
- Make speech about the danger of perverts.
- Bend 15-year-old congressional aide over Senate chamber men's room toilet and teach him the meaning of "Squeal like a pig." during lunch.
- Fly to Minneapolis to make speech in support of presidential bid of close personal friend Mit Romney.
- Visit airport men's room for relief.
- Look for young hottie to gay busy with.
- Remember that young hotties don't need to troll airport men's room, coupling with middle-aged Republican hypocrites to get-off.
- Stick head out of men's room doorway and holler, "I'm not gay!" at passersby.
- Decide to settle for what's available.
- Peer into occupied stalls, checking for sexual desperation.
- Select undercover cop.
- Enter adjacent stall.
- Announce "I'm not gay." at top of lungs.
- Ask cop, "Are you a cop?"
- Cop says, "Me? I'm so not a cop."
- Reply, "And I'm not a Republican Senator from Idaho."
- Slide foot under stall, rub cop's shoe.
- When foot isn't stepped on, slither under divider into cop's stall, announce my name as "Dirty Sanchez," and beg to be peed on.
- Protest arrest.
- Demand lawyer.
- Announce, "I'm a United States Senator!"
- Tell press, "I'm not gay."
- Get bailed out of jail.
- Issue gay denial.
- Attend Satanic Rites in service of my Supreme Master Satan in Karl Rove's rec. room.
- Ask male virgin sacrifice-to-be "Want to be disqualified from being a 'Virgin Sacrifice'?"
- Call wife. Tell her I have to campaign late.
- Pick-up rough-trade hustler. This time, make sure he's not a cop.
- Take the father of all ass-poundings in motel room from hustler.
- Sleep the sleep of the just.
On my local NBC TV station last week, a reportatrix with clearly nothing better to do, and no more inventive way to capitalize on Senator Craig's hilarious and well-enjoyed downfall, did a rip-the-lid-off exposé of the "Problem of men having sex in USC men's rooms --- at 2 AM." Yes, she had discovered that men actually do meet and couple sexually in some public men's rooms, and had found people ready to say it happens in some of the men's rooms at USC, a campus full of gorgeous, horny young men. I was so shocked. What NEWS!
Then she asked when what she consistently called "The Problem" occurred, I guess hoping to come charging into a men's room herself, like a harpy version of Chris Hansen, pulling Senators off of healthy 19 year old athletes by the dozens.
"2 AM." she was told. You should have seen her face fall. Obviously, she wasn't planning to return with her camera crew at 2 AM. Damn, doesn't anybody like nooners anymore? She tried to ask any one she could scare into facing a mike about how "This Problem" inconvenienced them, but couldn't find anyone who were all that worried that "Innocent Little Kids" might see some salacious activity at 2 AM. The fact is, that at 2 AM, only guys looking for sex are in those men's rooms. It's anyone who just plans to pee and leave again who would be the problems, if there were any, which there weren't.
She did ask a police officer why the police hadn't put a stop to "The Problem."
He explained that they couldn't do anything, unless there was a complaint. It seems that no one complains about men having sex in the USC men's rooms at 2 AM, apart from complaints like, "There's no one here but trolls tonight. Let's try UCLA."
To show just how new this "Problem" is, I'd like to reprint here the lyrics to a song parody written by Little Dougie and his former writing partner, the late John Fugiel, back in 1979. This was written 28 years ago, as part of a parody of the Village People. The lyrics are sung to the melody of In The Navy.
If you're on the road,
And need a place to go,
And you want to make it brief.
I know of a place,
Where you can wash your face,
And get a little fast relief.
In the men's room. You can meet a lot of guys.
In the men's room. Never look them in the eyes.
In the men's room. Try your brother on for size.
In the men's room. In the men's room.
In the men's room, paper sticking to your feet,
In the men's room, you can meet the second fleet,
In the men's room, dancin' to thet disco beat,
In the men's room, in the men's room.
It's got all you need,
A quiet place to read,
You can even buy a comb.
Just be careful who,
Is standing next to you,
And leave your traveler's cheques at home.
Friends you'll find abound there,
If you hang around there,
You'll meet folks from other lands.
Stuff to read on the walls,
Helping hands in the stalls,
But don't forget to wash your hands.
In the men's room. Having fun with other guys,
In the men's room. Zipping up a lot of flies,
In the men's room. You'll need stamina and thighs,
In the men's room. In the men's room.
[clapping in rhythm. Chanted:]
We want you. We want you. We want you for a number two.
[Singing]
In the men's room. Take the measure of a man.
In the men's room. Show the bottom of your tan.
In the men's room. Hold your future in your hands,
In the men's room. In the men's room.
In the men's room. Standing up or sitting down.
In the men's room. Never leave there with a frown.
In the men's room. It's the hottest place in town.
In the men's room. In the men's room. In the men's room.
Well it's a good thing Ex-Senator Larry Craig isn't gay. But if he isn't gay, then his reasons for coming on to that cop must have been something weird! You see, it began as something perfectly normal, with a Republican Senator being arrested for soliciting a cop in a public airport men's room, but then, it turned all unsavory.
But there was good news last week also. Weepy, horrible Sky Pilot Amber got evicted from Big Brother 8. Little Douglas has me watching this bizarre entertainment substitute. Amber was the "Single mother" with the emotional maturity of a new born, who would cry no matter what anyone said to her.
Anyone: Good morning Amber.
Amber: WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Anyone: Please pass the peanut butter, Amber.
Amber: WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Anyone: Amber, you're a religious, anti-Semitic, bitch!
Amber: WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Anyone: Amber, you've won!
Amber: WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
The only thing she did more than cry was wail "WHY GOD?" whenever anything crossed her.
Anyone: Amber, you've been evicted. No one likes you, and Hitler called to tell you, you're in.
Amber: WHY GOD?
Anyone: I'm sorry Amber, that's not how you spell"Cat". I'm afraid you lose those six points. Now I will spell out "Jewhater" for 47 points.
Amber: WHY GOD?
Anyone: Amber, would you like some waffles?
Amber: WHY GOD?
Amber firmly believes that God controls every aspect of Big Brother 8. Whose ball gets drawn? Divinely pre-ordained. Who wins Head of Household? Divinely pre-ordained. Who will win? Divinely pre-ordained. God showed all his plans to Amber, with whom he has personal chats.
It's nice when someone as busy as God, with a whole universe to run, takes time to personally advise and control Amber's every move on Big Brother 8. You'd think He'd need a moment or two away from running Amber's life for her, to manage things in, say, Iraq (His attention there has clearly been wanting. I blame Amber.), or to arrange things on Who Wants To Be a Superhero?, or at the very least, to micromanage Jamika's life, as that simple-minded dolt also believes that God is managing her every move on BB8. Then why is she losing, and why has Amber already lost? Aren't God's hands full just battling Karl Rove? Anyway, don't bother doing anything, or striving for anything. God has pre-decided everything in advance, and your efforts will be futile. Life is just a big novel, with God as the author, at least according to the Gospel of Amber and Jamika.
So just why did God choose to personally guide Amber's Life? Well, as Amber told us again and again, she's "One of the Good People." So what exactly is a "Good Person"? Well, in Amber's view, it's apparently someone who cries noisily and frequently, on an hourly basis, who assumes that the minor day-to-day tawdry business of her existence is Important to the Ruler of the Universe, who has not bothered to acquire any three-syllable words in her vocabulary, and then there's ---
Well, Amber admitted early on that twice in her life, she's told men she was pregnant when she wasn't, to get them to pay for her make-believe abortions, money she then spent instead acquiring more of the narcotics to which she was then addicted. (Amber believes that any morally-abhorrent act she committed while "Addicted to drugs" are a free pass because she was addicted to drugs. I'm missing something here.) To paraphrase Douglas Adams, this must be some new meaning of the term "Good People" that I was not previously familiar with, because she seems to be the Scum of the Earth to me.
Oh wait. I see. She diverted money that would have gone to Evil Abortionists, had she been pregnant for real, which she wasn't, into the blessed pockets of international drug lords instead. What could be more virtuous? She wasn't killing her children. She was just pretending to kill her children in order to steal money for her drugs from men she'd slept with.
Maybe she was right, and God did control her game. She lost, after all.
You know what amber is? Fossilized sap. That's our Amber too: a fossilized sap. Just for her, more lyrics, this time from Miss Saigon:
"Why God? Why today?
I'm all through here, on my way.
I've been with girls who knew much more.
I've never been confused before!"
Cheers darlings.
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