I Love It When You Call Me Big Poppa

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – if I could, I would vote for Silvio Berlusconi for everything. Not for anything – for everything. From dog catcher to DA, this is the guy I want in charge.

I want my country run by a guy so bad ass that when the sex tapes come out, they come out in volumes. I want a guy who responds to said sex tapes not by apologizing or vacillating or doing a lot of soul searching, but by saying “I’m no saint.” Next question, motherfuckers.

I want to know the man in charge of my nation loves him some three way, is pro-masturbation, and names his beds after fellow world leaders. I want to know that he is hiding archaeological sites on his palatial estate so he can brag about them to the call girls he hires to come to his parties. Come to think of it, I want a leader who can hire escorts and then not even feel obliged to sleep with all of them. And who can, rumors say, help them try to run for political office, which is a nice thing to do. Though, considering that Berlusconi continues to claim that he has never paid for sex, and complaints heard on the tapes seem to verify that ‘in the Putin bed’ wasn’t wasn’t the only way that The Italian Prime Minister was stiffing his escorts, it would seem to be just about the least he could do.

Mark Sanford, John Ensign, which ever Republican legislator is going to become embroiled in a sex scandal, you should all take note. Next time you get caught with your pants around your ankles, and there will be a next time, do the right thing. Man up. Say “Yeah, I slept with that prostitute. And what’s more, I was great.” I think we’ll all respect you more for it.

 

Proud To Be An American

For every American, the Fourth of July is supposed to be a day to take pride in your nation’s accomplishments. A time to reflect on all the great things the USA has done, to contemplate how lucky you are to be American. A moment to reflect on American supremacy in all things military, and then to blow something up because you can.

Thus, it’s with a pride swelled chest that I relate the fact that the American military has something to be proud of today. After years of walking around with our tails between our legs over Tailhook, the United States no longer has the world’s most shameful naval sex scandal.

Instead, that dubious honor now hangs heavy around the neck of the Australian Navy, whose sordid tales of betting pools around sexual conquests aboard the HMAS Success really take the cake in the realm of tawdry and unbecoming sexual escapades at sea.

Love Boat?

Details of the story are still emerging, but early reports indicate that male sailors had set up a complex system of competition, with cash rewards granted for bedding their female shipmates. Each woman on board was assigned a cash value, reflecting the perceived difficulty of persuading her to make the beast with two backs. But the shameful antics don’t stop there. Further bonuses could be accrued by sailors for having sex in a strange place on the ship, with a higher ranking officer, or with a lesbian – though there’s no word yet on whether these bonus multipliers stacked, Scrabble style, making sex with an officer in an odd place worth even more.

And while the American military may still have some shameful moments in it’s past, we can safely say that none of our soldiers or sailors has ever paid a comrade for having sex with a gay lieutenant on a pool table. That we know of, anyway.

And that’s something I think we can all be proud of.