I live my life pretty much around CNN. As a matter of fact, whenever I'm with a new woman sexually, I announce my impending ejaculation by dropping my voice to its sexiest James Earl Jones register and saying "This .... is CNN." Now you know my secret. There's no way that a woman couldn't love me after hearing that.
I haven't been able to watch CNN much this week. The only real stories are that Barack Obama's saying something stupid, Hillary Clinton is shrill, and the entire state of Texas is under arrest for polygamy and suspected child-rape. I'm not sure how to break this to you fine folks, but none of that is exactly news. All of those stories have been rather well known for several years now. And if you aren't very well versed in history, the United States Congress twice refused to annex Texas for a reason.
Not watching CNN, I haven't seen Richard Quest for some time now, and I'm a better man for the experience. Mr. Quest is far better suited for a Brighton game show than he is what pretends to be a serious news organization. He's loud, obnoxious, overly excited about the trivial, and annoyingly British.
I wasn't overly shocked to learn that Richard is a gay man either. If you're English and not Keith Richards, I automatically assume that you love the cock. I've just found it easier that way. Maybe it's because I can't see how any woman would fuck someone with teeth like that. Also, his name actually is Dick Quest. Things like that are pretty hard to overlook.
What I didn't know is that Richard Quest is more than loud, obnoxious, overly excited about the trivial, and annoyingly British. He's so much more. He's a refined gentleman, devoted to life's baser persuits and therefore a guy I can relate to.
It was reported on Friday that Mr. Quest
had been arrested by the NYPD in Central Park for possession of a small quantity of crystal meth. Again, this wasn't a huge surprise to me. Most people aren't as naturally abrasive as Dick is and I can see how that can require some fuel from time to time. Besides, I can hardly condemn anyone for doing drugs in the park, since that's how I spent my childhood. I just don't know how I could have made it through kindergarden without heroin.
CNN personality Richard Quest was busted in Central Park early yesterday with some drugs in his pocket, a rope around his neck that was tied to his genitals, and a sex toy in his boot, law-enforcement sources said.
(...)
It wasn't immediately clear what the rope was for.
All that tells me is that the
New York Post is either very coy or very, very stupid.
If you don't engage in a healthy regimine of auto-erotic asphyxiation, then you're not someone I want to know. There's something about shunting the airway that makes an otherwise pleasant orgasm blissful. I thought everybody knew that until I started showing up at work with a belt around my neck. My co-workers sure seemed perplexed, but tended to leave me alone once I started to twitch, groan and tremble like a retard.
And how can you live all the way to adulthood and not know what the rope is for?
Once you think of a penis as a pit bull, it should become clear to everyone. You wouldn't let a pit bull out of the yard without a leash, would you? It might run off and bite some child's face off, and responsible adults just don't allow things like that to happen. Whenever I think of my future bride, for example, my penis has a tendency to rip right through my pants and punch me in the face. Since I want to avoid a broken jaw, I put a leash on it. The only alternative woud be to go through my day wearing a football helmet, and that would look ridiculous.
Including the sex toy in Mr. Quest's boot just seems gratutious. That just tells me that he's prepared. I can't tell you how many times I've been having a very romantic evening and decided that the experience could only be complete if I had something jammed in my rectum. However, I can be forgetful in my old age and there are any number of women who aren't comfortable shoving their hand into their man. All I've learned from that part of the story is that Dick is a much better boy scout than I am.
If I were to quibble about anything in this story, it would be the entire thing occuring with an anonymous dude who carries no ID as his companion. I'm deeply and desperately in love, so I tend to troll parks late at night with meth in my pocket, a dildo in my boot, and a rope tied to my throat and groin in the company of my bootilicious Zombiegirl. If you saw her, you'd know why.
There we'd be in the park, me snorting meth off of her perfect knockers, my putz beating her into unconciousness, and both of us jamming things into each other's bathroom places. But most couples express their love that way, don't they? Or maybe mine really is the Greatest Love of All.
But I learned that I was wrong about Richard Quest and that you can't always judge a book by it's cover. No, Richard Quest has now earned a place in the
Enjoy Every Sandwich pantheon of heroes, right next to
Pat O'Brien,
Charlie Sheen,
Marcelino P. Castro and, of course,
Mouhammed Shaukat. Those are the real heroes, people, not me. I'm just here to tell their stories.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Hot Burrito #1 By: The Flying Burrito Brothers From: The Gilded Palace of Sin
