Peter's Last Word On Congressman Weiner's Package

When I first joined the superheroes on this blog, I was given to understand that it was a family-oriented establishment. Numerous posts from Lt. Ilia, myself, and even the good captain himself have put the lie to that rubbish. Corky's latest posts stand as a refreshing return to his all-American family values roots. As much as I hate to do it, however, I must wallow in the mire once again, in an attempt to make sense of the Weiner Twitter fiasco.

Ilia did us all the favor of including one of the questionable pictures in her latest post; I was not at all bothered by it. [I accepted an invitation from a guy several years ago to hang out and drink beer after work. It turned out that he thought it was a date. When I inquired as to why he thought I might be interested in him in that respect, he had no good answer for me. He remarked, "I don't know. I mean--that slab of meat in your pants..." I politely declined his offer to view the footage from his most recent orgy, finished my beer and walked home. I never saw him again. A coworker to whom I told my story proceeded to make me a SLAB name tag, which remains a precious keepsake stored in some box somewhere. Several years before that, I had a one-time prostitute spontaneously grab the (soft) package in my blue jeans and remark, "I can't believe you don't have a girlfriend!"] Congressman Weiner has nothing for me to be jealous of.

I think Mr. Weiner mishandled the entire matter. I imagine a scenario in which he could defend himself by saying he mistakenly sent the pictures to the wrong place; he had simply been talking about civics with the young ladies. The intended recipient was President Obama himself. Since Rahm Emmanuel is no longer part of his administration, the president needs someone else who can go into the congressional gym's showers and menace wayward congressmen with his penis like Mayor Emmanuel was rumored to have done. Mr. Weiner's pictures were meant to be a display of his credentials for that job. The threat of a disciplinary fudge-packing from the one-eyed viper in those pictures would certainly put dread fear in most every congressman's heart.

I suspect that the good congressman had a little help from one or more male-enhancement products and/or a well-placed beehive. If he finds himself without a job when he resigns, he can always become the poster boy for Pos-T-Vac, or he can make an infomercial for Extenze, or he can go on the lecture circuit warning college kids about the dangers of penile bee stings in the post-modern digital world.

We now return to our (non-dysfunctional) family-oriented programming.