Male politicians will be male politicians, right?
I don’t know about you guys, but I think I might just be bored by this whole Rep. Anthony Weiner scandal. I think I might have actually reached my limit on tolerance and the ability to be shocked.
At this point, yet another story about yet another politician apologizing for yet another highly preventable imbroglio is like Lady Gaga to me. First she’s wearing a dress made of steak. Then she’s arriving in an egg. Soon she’ll be wearing little people as shoes and carrying a gutted marlin as a purse.
Big deal. We get it. You’re the “weird” one who was born that way. Spare us.
So it is with politicians and their sex scandals. It’s a veritable who’s who of who wants to play the strangest game of doctor ever. It’s all page boys, wide stances and secret maid babies in the Halls of Leadership, and Weiner’s just the latest and least creative of the bunch.
Oh I know, how liberal media of me. “Siding” with a Democrat. “Downplaying” his lap shots. First off, I’m not — so calm down. I think he should resign or at least change his name to Congressman Twitterslob, just so we’re all clear on his actual agenda. And second, let me remind you: One man’s diapers-with-prostitutes fetish is another man’s Twitpic of his creepily smooth and dented bare chest (seriously, Congressman Weiner, what is wrong with your sternum? It looks like two beakless, featherless factory chickens just got news about what’s going to happen next, “I think this might be it for us, Henrietta.” “Squawk?!?”).
If there has been one true thread in the history of male political leadership, it is this little omnipartisan gem: They will show you theirs.
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