Episode 216

June 10, 2011

New Rules

New Rule: Now that unemployment is back up over nine percent, local parks must install "bunk benches." [slide of two homeless people sleeping on "bunk benches"]

New Rule: FIFA, soccer's international governing body, cannot ban the Iranian women's national team just because they've been ordered to wear their Muslim headdress. On the contrary, they should ban them because they look like the sperm in that Woody Allen movie. [slide from Allen's film,"Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex..."]

New Rule: Newt Gingrich...just stop. Seriously, your campaign isn't just off to a rough start. It's like you hired me to run it and I purposely ran it into the ground. Let me put your unpopularity in context for you: you're a Republican and you're polling behind a black guy. [slide of Herman Cain]

New Rule: Somebody must explain to me how "The Voice" isn't exactly the same show as "American Idol." Pretty soon, all of television is going to be one long show called, "CSI: Vampire Idol." [slide of show poster] Where forensic experts solve murders committed by sexy vampires singing show tunes in front of Steven Tyler.

New Rule: The media must stop pretending anybody cares if cyclists take drugs. Lance Armstrong could have been sucking Charlie Sheen's tiger blood and riding a motorcycle, I still wouldn't give a s**t about the Tour de France.

New Rule: Stop complaining about Facebook changing your privacy settings. You really want privacy? Go back to MySpace.

Lance Armstrong could have been sucking Charlie Sheen's tiger blood and riding a motorcycle, I still wouldn't give a s**t about the Tour de France.

And finally, New Rule: If you're going to be the pathetic, laughing-stock, center of a tawdry, lie-riddled sex scandal, at least get laid!!

Congratulations, Congressman "Shiny Tits 69." In a world of politicians doing everything from having babies with the maid, leaving their wives on their deathbeds and hiking the Appalachian Trail, you're guilty of the most humiliating indiscretion of all: you didn't get any!

Talk about Democrats being ineffectual! Edwards and Clinton banged butter-faces, and that's embarrassing enough. But, you just came up with your hand. Your name shouldn't even be "Weiner." You don't deserve it. Weiners are for closers! Your name should be "Hand," "Congressman Anthony Hand"!

Now, on Monday, at his press conference, Congressman Weiner was talking about his online flirtations, and at one point, he ejaculated, "They are all"-it's a word, people-"they are all adults; at least to the best of my knowledge." Oh, Anthony, it's the Internet. There's no such thing as the "best of your knowledge."

You know that naked coed you've got on the line, the one with the tits that just won't quit? This is her. [slide of slovenly, morbidly obese man sitting at computer]

How is talking to this guy online better than old-school whacking off? I mean, say what you want about a box of Kleenex and the July Playboy, but when you finish, it doesn't call Andrew Breitbart.

I guess I just don't get the appeal of sexting and phone sex and all that cyber-jacking the kids are doing these days, when they're not listening to their "hippity-hop" records. Call me old-fashioned, but when I have sex, I like to have the other person in the room. I find that it helps create a feeling of intimacy.

People say, "Bill, don't knock phone sex until you've tried it." I've tried it. True, it was with a customer service rep from the gas company, but still, I gave it a shot. And you know what? It's not sex. It's not even a little bit like sex. It's just talking.

Even during actual sex, talking is fairly superfluous. Saying, "Do me, do me," when I am at that very moment "doing you," is neither helpful nor essential to the ultimate experience.

And that's all cybersex is: an annoying person saying "Do me, do me," while you're 1,000 miles away trying to maintain an erection while the cat walks across the keyboard.

So, thanks to you, Congressman Weiner, there is now a new low in what passes for a sex scandal. JFK got Marilyn Monroe. John Edwards got a love child. "You've Got Mail."

I mean...say what you will about Bill Clinton, but at least when he whipped out his dick on a woman, she didn't have to wait for it to stop buffering.

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