7 June 2011

Nominative determinism at it's funniest

So now, over in the US of States, Congressman Anthony Weiner has gotten himself in a pickle after sending pictures of his wiener to several women over the Twitters. He meant to send them privately of course via a direct message, but instead sent them to the whole world.

He then denied it, he said he could not say "in certitude" that the penis was in fact his and claimed his Twitter account had been hacked. Obviously the media were confused by this. How could he not know for sure if such a picture was indeed his todger?

Does he send so many lurid pictures out on many social networking platforms that he can't say for sure if it was his? Is that what he's saying? Cause that's worse than just admitting it. Or is he simply not able to identify his own junk?

This was of course all nonsense and eventually he was forced to concede these were indeed his boys. Luckily for him he's a Democrat and was therefore not subjected to as much ridicule as a Republican would have been.

One wonders however, how does this happen so often to high profile politicians? With their careers and reputations and marriages at stake how do so many politicians manage to get themselves embroiled in so many sex scandals.

And not scandals which take a grotty tabloid months of surveillance to uncover by rooting about in bins and sewers for spoiled prophylactics that are then analysed for juices not belonging to the spousal naughty bits - more often than not it's this sort of thing. Mucky pictures being sent without due care and attention, or being caught in a lavatory offering up oral sex to all and sundry.

How are these people able to let their guards down, to literally expose themselves in such a casual manner?

For the same reason that when the every day man on the street's wife finds his mucky bongo DVD it's not hidden under the sofa, it's in the actual DVD player. She goes to pop Notting Hill in the player and there in the tray she finds Sluts, fucked by horses and other animals III.

It is all the work of the mischievous Goddess of Nookie. When you're all randied up with eyes glazed over and most of the blood flow is towards the penis you are never able to think straight. Blood flow to the brain is at its absolute minimum just to keep the body functioning. All other resources are allocated to the pleasuring of oneself. Reflexes are subdued, awareness diminished, instincts relaxed and consequences dismissed.

Achieving a glorious ejaculation requires that all other brain functions must cease and this is why we are all at the mercy of the Goddess of Nookie at this time. And when it has been achieved the brain still does not begin to function efficiently again for at least ten minutes, by which time you have gotten dressed, wiped up and completely forgotten about the DVD, or are now panicking like fuck cause of what you just did to a lorry driver at a service station on the way to the Liberal Democrats conference.

Anything can and will happen in this vulnerable condition and we should not be surprised when politicians and high profile types are caught with their pants down. Indeed we should pity them in fact. There but for the grace of the Goddess of Nookie, we go.


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