As you've probably read, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie recently met with President Obama in the Oval Office, but Obama made it absolutely clear to the Hollywood power couple that, with the upcoming presidential elections, he wasn't at all interested in being adopted.
Which, in a round-a-bout way, brings me to the subject of this column. The Republican pickings for president are so slim this time around, that I'm considering running for the nomination myself. I say "thinking about it," because, to tell the truth, I couldn't afford the cut in pay.
I don't know how he found out about my political musings, but, just before he decided to publically throw his support behind Mitt Romney, Donald Trump called and wanted to give me his opinion about the subject.
"Tell him I'm washing my hair," I told my personal assistant, Joe Biden. Biden, these days, has so much free time on his hands that he decided to get a second job, just in case this vice-presidential thing doesn't work out.
I was watching the recent Republican debate that was being broadcasted on PBS on their popular political show Sesame Street. As I watched, my mind wandered to one of the more important questions of the day: What's all this fuss about Bert and Ernie being gay? Does the gay lobby actually have nothing better to do than accuse innocent muppets of homosexuality? They've already tainted Disneyland with such accusations.
"I bet you don't even know that Plato's gay," a gay actor--not Tom Cruise, because Tom Cruise is not gay--once told me.
"Plato?"
"Yes."
"Plato?"
"Yes."
"You're telling me that Mickey Mouse's dog is gay?"
The gay actor--not John Travolta, because John Travolta is not gay--paused.
"Yes," he said, and raised one eyebrow. "And Goofy was his lover."
It's like that lesbian protestor who threw gay-dust on Republican presidential hopeful Rick Santorum just a few days ago, screaming: "You hate gays! You hate gays!" At first, I actually thought she was chanting the "U.S.A! U.S.A!" cheer. It would have made more sense. The United States, after all, is the land of the free and the home of the Chippendale dancers. But she wasn't, and I wondered who she thought she was going to convert by being such a jerk. Whatever Rick Santorum's anti-homosexuality feelings are--if, in fact, he has any at all--I'm sure she made them worse. The only true point I think she made was how easy it is to get at any political figure, if you're so inclined. Instead of gay-dust, she could just as easily have had something more dangerous, like Donald Trump's hair.
And, now that I think about it, local El Paso politician, Mayor John Cook, sure does look an awful lot like the man who offered to give me "guitar lessons" in the public bathroom of the Downtown plaza when I was a little boy. Yes, the same public bathrooms that my parents used to warn me to stay out of when I would take the city bus to catch a horror movie double-feature at the Palace Theater for 35 cents. My parents also warned me to stay away from the Coney Island hot dog stand, which was next-door to a bar. But I was a kid. And the hot dogs were delicious. And 10 cents.
You do the math.
But I digress...
As I was trying not to consider the sexuality of inanimate objects, I couldn't help but wonder: What if the Republican presidential hopefuls were gay? That might make the coming year easier to take.
I bet if Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney were gay, Newt would be the Bert and Mitt would be the Ernie. Newt would be the top and Mitt would be the bottom. In fact, if you translate the name "Mitt Romney" from the original Mormon, it literally translates into "The Bottom."
Newt Gingrich would be the salad and Mitt Romney would be the one doing the tossing.
But I don't want to come down on just Gingrich and Romney, even though they are the front runners, and are fighting like an old gay couple who were never given the opportunity to marry. Ron Paul, to me, has always looked like the creepy uncle who sneaks into your bedroom in the middle of the night.* In fact, didn't he play the lead in the movie Priscilla, Queen of the Desert?
Rick Santorum, with his vest addiction, reminds me of the high school teacher who invites the football team over to his house for beer.** Instead of a Navy SEAL, Rick Santorum*** is more like one of those baby seals who get clubbed in the head.
And, finally, if the Republicans were gay...
I'd pay good money to see Michele Bachman's and Sarah Palin's private honeymoon videos.
*Um... not my uncle. I mean yours.
**Fortunately, I didn't play on the field with the football team. I played the field with the cheerleaders.
***Speaking of Rick Santorum, I've heard through the grapevine that he's hoping to improve his presidential chances by changing his name to Rick Obama.
Fifty Shades of Funny
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