Bad Advice

Jackass #9

Oh, Eliot, how could you? I can't say I was a fan of Governor Spitzer's, but he didn't bug me like Pataki did. With his attacks on big corrupt business, Spitzer even seemed like he might be an okay guy, but now this?

It's not bad enough that he hired hookers (and wanted them to engage in unsafe sex with him—WTF?), but to drag his poor, devastated wife out in front of the press? Why do these guys insist on company while laying out their dirty laundry—McGreevey, Foley and Vitter did this too! Does Spitzer really think the hollow-eyed look on his devastated wife's face helps his case? 

One can only hope Silda snaps out of her Xanax haze soon and kicks a little hypocritical gubernatorial ass.

I'm woman enough to admit I'm enjoying this . . .

Granted, the EIC now, isn't the guy who fired me way back when (though he did can a friend of mine), I find it somewhat hilarious that the Press hires a new sex columnist, touts her column on the cover and then—oopsy!—turns out she plagiarized all her questions from Dan Savage! WTF?

Here's a tip—if you're going to rip someone off, rip off someone nobody's ever heard of. Not the most widely read sex columnist in the country. And editors, if you're going to apologize for running a plagiarized story, man up and admit you fucked up. Don't weasel! Sheesh.

Legs crossed, shrieking in horror!

Though I've read tons about female circumcision, this article, from yesterday's Times, keeps making me scream. I don't know that I'll ever be brave enough to watch the slide show that comes with it.

Noooooooo!!!!!!!!!

Thank you, feministing (via feministe) for bringing my lunch back up. In case you were wondering, that's a toddler-sized t-shirt.

Any parent who puts their little girl (or boy) in this should be arrested for child abuse.

OT, but what up with the bulge on that mannequin?

Ugh, Part Two

A week or so ago I wrote about Jack McClellan, creepy, self-proclaimed pedophile who used to send me sick letters, first about his feelings on prostitutes—hired them and hated them—and then about his yearnings for underage girls. He signed all his letters, "Uncircumcised." TMI and then some.

Yesterday he was arrested, twice, outside of UCLA on the grounds he'd violated a restraining order which demanded he stay ten yards away from any children in the state of California.

No doubt this guy is a sociopath of the highest order, but he's never been caught actually molesting any children—only talking about how he wants to. So I don't understand how a restraining order such as this one is practical or enforceable. Believe me, most days I'd love to be kept ten yards away from any children (except those belonging to friends), but it's just not possible as kids are everywhere.

It seems clear that this guy is out of his fucking mind and should be treated accordingly. By making himself such a target and appearing on pretty much any television show that'll have him, it seems like he's screaming for both help and attention. He's certainly got a lot of people very upset, which I think might be more satisfying to him than actually molesting any children.

Ugh.

I was really happy last week when I got a letter from an incarcerated gentleman, who was wondering what my "rates" were. I used to get prisoner letters all the time and wondered what had happened. Did they stop carrying the Weekly in the big house? Or maybe I'd done something to offend. I couldn't figure it out.

But today, as I was scanning the New York Times, I recognized another criminal who used to write me—only this guy wasn't locked up. He was a hooker-hound/turned pedophile, actively trolling for young girls. I was really grossed out by his letter—I mean, I'm used to handling dilemmas more along the lines of whether or not someone should break up with their boyfriend for farting.

The cops even contacted me over this column, but I guess since they haven't caught him in the act, they can't do anything. In fact, there's not even any evidence that the creep has done anything except talk. And you can't arrest a guy for talking. . . .

Reason #458,932 to Avoid the Hamptons

I admit it. Right after I (metaphorically) beat off to the Real Estate section of the Sunday Times, I click over to the Style section for a glimpse into the rarified world of the people who actually populate the homes I've just salivated over.

This week did not disappoint. The lead story: "When the Boys of Summer Linger Till Autumn" should be required reading for every man over thirty. Yes, it's entertaining, but, more importantly, it's also a brilliant primer in How Not to Be.

I Know it's Not Funny. . .

. . . and I should be shocked and appalled, but the idea of a naked guy wearing a paper bag mask, masturbating outside my window, would make me reach for my camera, not my gun. Once I stopped laughing, that is. Check it out:

“He came to my bedroom window completely naked, just wearing a paper bag over his head with eyeholes poked out,” the 34-year-old woman said. “I didn’t see his face so it didn’t feel threatening, but he was masturbating. Even after I closed the curtains, he stood out there for a while.”

Apparently the environmentally correct Paper-Bag Peeper (see what happens when you outlaw plastic?)  targeted several women in the Kensington section of Brooklyn. The police aren't taking it lightly. “It’s assumed he’s not far from clothing,” one NYPD source said. “We’re certainly looking into all facets of these unusual occurrences.”

BTW: That's a picture of the Unknown Comic, not the suspect.

My New Excuse for Everything. . . .

Nope . . . sorry . . . as much as I'd love to, I can't help you move, I be concubining.

Prince Charming!

Ronnell Wilson may be facing lethal injection for killing a couple cops, but he does not want to skip off this mortal coil without leaving a little something behind. Hence, Ronnell is seeking a baby incubator. I guess someone at the jail intercepted this plea:

"Yo what's poppin' wit Shorty, is she willing to have a baby for me," Wilson wrote. "all she have to do is have it and my family will take the baby if she don't want to be held down by the baby."

"I just need a baby before thiz pigz try to take my life. I need to have something behind me."

What kind of hard-hearted lady could resist an offer like that? I mean, all she needs to do is spit the kid out and leave it with Ronnell's mom. No worries about that plan, being that Mom did such a bang-up job with her first kid!

It is unclear how Wilson planned to impregnate the woman referred to as Shorty, but he mentions he will add her to his visitors list "if she's down to ride wit a real n-----, ya know?" He signs off "110% Love, RR," a reference to his nickname - Rated R.

Well, "Shorty," sounds like this sweet-talkin' Romeo has quite an evening of romance planned for the two of you. That is, if you're up to "ride with a real n------!"