There are companies out there who are hiring out something called Hot Caddies, that is, attractive young women, ‘hot’ in common parlance, to wipe down and lug clubs around for, I’m blatantly assuming, but then again, who the else golfs these days, either wealthy men, desperately lonely men or members of the Trenchcoat Brigade. And yes, there’s a ball polishing service these hot women are required to do, but I’m not so sure it’s as salacious as it sounds. There are also bikini charters where you can pick from a pornstar, a fired hot teacher, or other women to accompany, and again I’m assuming, guys while they fish for bass or marlin. I’m again assuming that possibilities for either abuse or prostitution abounds in either venture. Oddly enough, as a male, even I’m a little squirmy about this innovation. Fish, Golf, Gawk, don’t mix them together. Might throw you off the purpose you went there to do in the first place.
Now, the mantra for the Bush years has been ‘a gig’s a gig’, and cash is cash, but all of this just has that taint, to me, of the 1800’s, of dressing poor urchins of either sex in scanty clothing in the old school Gentlemen’s Clubs to fetch drinks, cut cigars or fulfill whatever needs that may arise. These new gigs have that slippery, slimy edge that just smells like grief. I’m saying that there’s a time and a place for all of that, but between consenting adults for free, or at least for cash in those hallowed venues like Strip Clubs, Massage Parlors or all night Laundromats (Wild!). Besides, I suppose a real mensch or menchette can always get a significant other to happily bait a hook or fish out a ball from the weeds for some kind of fulfilment. Only a pig pays a bored, attractive, desperate woman to do it. Then again, to some it beats stripping or tarring roofs in Miami in August or asking if ‘they want to supersize it’, and yea, making a buck from Sex and (insert anything here) is as American as sucking Hot Apple Pie from a bikini-clad coed's navel. Hmmm. I see something like a Hooters, but with the added attraction of using hot girls as dessert plates. Call it McCreamy’s or something. Pat.Pending.
McBlinky, Class Warfare, And You...
Last night, during the debate, McBlinky mentioned the dreaded term Class Warfare. It seems that the only time it’s acceptable to use it is when someone suggests that the wealthy and corporations avoid tax loopholes and, maybe, actually pay that purportedly horrid tax rate they’ve been both bitching about and avoiding all these years. A vast majority of companies haven’t paid taxes in years and in some cases are bleeding the taxpayers dry for cash in kickbacks and retroactive taxation, something so reality bending that Lewis Carroll or Dr. Michio Kaku couldn’t fathom on a real wild, laundromat level weekend.
Bulletin. We’re in the middle of Class Warfare, and we’re losing. The Boston Massacre for the working class was Republican Ronald Reagan firing the striking Air Traffic Controllers Union, and it’s been downhill since. Breaking of the carpenter and construction unions meant that the undocumented or under skilled or desperate could work for pennies on the dollar on sites without both Union protection or pay rate. Now starts the party down at the Tortilla Curtain, the general wages for us all fall, and it’s all in the name of Capitalism, not Class Warfare. And it isn’t mentioned when they close factories, raise purchase taxes, raise co-pays, institute ‘Right to Work’ laws.
It’s been Class Warfare from the start, and Class owns the Media at large, so who you gonna believe, CNN, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX, Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Talk Radio, most of print and publishing, pundits, pontificators on all channels and wavelengths 24/7... or your damn lyin’ eyes. Think about it. First turn off the fucking television and radio for a week, then think about it.
As for the Pundits, they all agreed that McCain came out strong, hammered Obama on many salient points, but then they both described their policies and finished strong. What fucking debate did they watch? Blinky, twitchy, scowly, smirky, Creamsickle-colored teeth-sucky McCain looked as Presidential as Jackie Coogan’s Uncle Fester, or as Presidential as, Y-weh forbid, George W. Bush. Actually Coogan would have made a better presidential candidate. So would Al Lewis because both worked for a living as apposed to McCain, who had everything handed to him, except for that brief stint in Hanoi. And come on, wouldn’t you have come out of that changed? Maybe learned a lesson or humility or.. something? All McCain got was a hatred for, and I quote him, ‘The Gooks’.
A child of privilege who grew up to a person who assumes that things are just his for the taking, that he should just walk into 1600, that it’s ‘his turn.’ Now McCain has a seething, building fury and creeping awareness that this Election isn’t going his way. Sorry, McBoob. All those moments practicing that icy grimace you called a ‘smile’ in front of the mirror isn’t going to help, also that speed-freak eye-popping thing you’d been advised to do to look more youthful isn’t catching fire. It actually makes your eyes look like two raisins in a pile of oddly surprised mashed potatoes, and your ‘smile’, in the grand tradition of great movie villains, never reaches your eyes. Ala Thunderdome, last night ‘two went in and one came out’ looking like a President, and it wasn’t you ‘My Friend.’
All he could do is attack, get schooled by reality, then petulantly repeat the same attack as if the previous moment didn’t happen, or keep bringing up his ‘friend’ Joe Wurzelbacher, the Plumber. I loved it when Obama just snatched the whole 'I know a actual citizen’s name’ schtick away from McCain at the mention of his ‘fine’ for not covering the health care for employees, which is, thanks to an exemption for small businesses making 200k or less, zero.
I’m assuming that Cindy’s running out of percocet to quaff and pool cues to poke him with when he loses, or decides that she doesn’t ‘feel’ like wearing the black PJ’s, daubing the kohl and do the rope trick on him when he fucks up like he did last night. Or for the past few weeks. He must be a lonely guy by now. Loving the rope and no one to use it on him. I’m thinking that the help, in whatever house is nearby that night, is looking a little spooked when he ‘smiles’ at them, dangling a few feet of woven hemp in one ‘hand’, and some cash in the other, murmuring spittily
"Conchita, Conchita...”
“Dios Mio, Señor McCain. No, por favor.”
“Please, my friend. Here’s another $10. Come on. You OWE me..."”
Yea. Ick.
Politics and Porn. Now Casting...
The Media keeps touting that McCain will ‘Come From Behind’ in the end. I don’t want to see that film, please God.
Brilliant finish. I wouldn't want to see that film either, in the election, or in my head, or on a screen. Unfortunately for some of us, the words call up the image. Thanks a lot for this one. :)Hopefully it will keep me laughing all the way to election day.
Posted by: Shawnee | October 16, 2008 at 12:39 PM