Das Weiner

Sometimes the wife makes me drive all the way out to Costco just to get gas. Which used to result in the same nasty argument, until I realized that arguing is futile and the only way "not" to lose an argument with her is not to "win," either. Just for the sake of nostalgia I might sputter off something about how "any savings that might be gained from Costco's slightly lower pump price, will only be guzzled away on the long drive there and back." But she'd calmly reason that "since braces and college tuition are looming on the horizon we really can't afford to be getting lazy about saving money." "How right you are, my desert rose" I formally concede (already making a mental list of the things I need at Costco) "beauty "and" brains – how lucky can y'get?"

Sadly, my last such venture, was marred by tragedy of sorts. Seems on the way home, I had a watermelon go rogue in the trunk. I could hear the low thunder as it rolled hither and yon, but, being in a hurry, I decided to go R.E.O. and "ride the storm out." Big mistake. When at last I popped open the trunk it looked like an aerial view of Northern Japan 3 days after the quake. The guilty green orb was besmirched with evidence of the many items it visited on its pitiless ramble. The artichoke-jalapeno dip took the worst hit, the chicken salad a close second. Just to lend the unfortunate affair a touch of the "macabre," on its pass through the grapes it smashed two big ones that stuck to the dip and tagged along for the ride. Big green grapes that were spaced so as to suggest two ruined, sodden eyeballs – like the cold, lifeless eyes of a shark. As if to mock me, the melon stared back from the midst of its handiwork - one of nature's perfect instruments of destruction. I wouldn't have been surprised to have found a severed human thumb somewhere inside that slaughtermelon. And to add insult to injury, it turned out to be a bunk one - mealy and sludgy, except for the heart which was bitter and cucumbery. Crap. Watermelons are the great gamble of the produce aisle.

If you haven't been in a grocery store lately, don't bother. I'm serious - the prices will ruin your day. Still as bad as the past few years have been economically as well as the myriad natural disasters – it's been a regular bonanza for joke writers. It's gotten to the point where it's almost too easy. Take, for example, Tiger's prowl through the Woods. That one alone would've been sufficient to consider these the rich, halcyon days of the new comic century. Balls, holes, strokes, swinging – it just didn't end. Whether your shot faded left or right you're either getting a slice or a hooker - how could you miss? What do you need a comedian for when all you have to do is switch the "s" from the end of Woods to the end of Tiger and you've humorously summed up the cause of the whole shebang.

I will say it concerns me some when the jokes start writing themselves, case-in-point this latest Weiner business - goodness. You have to wonder if comedians won't go the way of the Encyclopedia salesman when a politician named Weiner gets himself into a nasty fix on account of his "weiner." It's one thing when a big shot is caught red-handed, but quite another when his name is Scott Redhanded. You certainly don't need me to make Anthony's weiner funny? What's next? "Following a lengthy investigation into alleged sexual misconduct, police arrested Catholic Priest, "Father Peter Fondle" charging the disgraced cleric with 6 counts of blabbity bla against blibbity bloy a 12-year-old alter boy." Personally I think Weiner just didn't care anymore. He probably figured "screw it," I've made it as far as I'm gonna go. Sure, they elected a black president and, who knows, they may even elect a "Mormon," but there's no way in hell they're ever going to put a "Weiner" in the White House. After the whole Clinton fiasco I think the American people will draw the line at President Weiner.

Frankly I'm surprised he's made it "this" far with such a nutty handle. At least he's got the decency to throw in the towel without dragging us through an ugly protracted legal battle. There for a while it looked like they were gonna go with the "everybody does it" defense. Come on who hasn't photographed their genitals in order to send them out there for the whole wide world to admire. "Hey everybody, check it out – my Weiner's trending." Weiner and his staff (redundant I know) would have us believe that it's purely human nature - this desire for humiliation on a global scale. "I want my penis to go viral, damnit."

I've become accustomed to bizarre events in my life – such as the grape-eyed Monster Melon, but regardless the knuckleballs that life floats over my plate I just turn on the tube and ride it out on the couch. Surfing through the channels relaxes me to the point that I'm practically immune to my own problems. Lately I've been trolling past CNN a lot because they've started running a whole new batch of those "sting operations" where they video-tape the creepy internet predators who use chatrooms to get their slimy paws on the youngsters. They set up mousetraps for these chat-rat cyberverts and the minute Uncle Lester makes his move they put the smack down.

I should confess first off that I'm by no means a flawless human being. Actually I guess if I'm being totally honest here, there was a time a few years back when I guess I sort of had a thing for 14 year old girls. And I suppose if the opportunity had presented itself, I probably would've taken a shot. I was going through kind of a weird, confusing time - I think they call it puberty. Yes sir I was big into 14 year old girls, when I was a 14 year old boy.

Beyond the whole perverse insanity of it all, I don't understand how these guys get the cajones? Trust me these characters are working with a completely different kind of nervous system than I was issued. Some of these dudes simply walk right into a strange house, take a quick look around and drop their pants. There was one idiot in particular, just a happy-go-lucky, butt-naked, numb-nutted son of a bitch. He drops trou at the door then heads straight for the fridge. Finally comes out with a carrot. Popped it in his mouth and then started mumbly-dick'n around the house with his carrot sticking out – rustling around in drawers, checking the cabinets for pills - all of which, every bit of this, took place before he even found out if his "hook up" was even "there?" Remember Alfred E. Newman – from Mad magazine? Dead ringer. "What "me" worry?" It's enough to make you forget that he's come to commit despicable deeds.

In case you haven't seen any of this Sting-Show biz, they set up the pervy perps with a cop who pretends to be a 12 - 14 year old boy or girl in a chat-room. One sting leads to another and the next thing you know some 47 year old skeez is letting himself into a nice suburban house, where he believes the kid that he's seduced with his cyber-charms is eagerly awaiting his arrival. Most of these "would be" molesters are just everyday middle-aged nerds, balding and going to lard. Mild mannered monsters with a wolfen heart beating wildly just beneath their budding man-boobs. The scenario is brought along by a youngish female voice who announces from upstairs that she's just got out of the shower, "be right down, make yourself at home." It's just jaw-dropping. One guy came dressed as a clown? No idea why? Another guy must not have been able to find a babysitter so he brought along his 5-year-old son. Good times.

Of course the look on these dudes faces when the camera crew pops out and the News guy pops the question can be a little hard to watch. A good half of these guys are married and they're looking at a seriously nasty bust, in front of the whole country. Still, since they've yet to do anything, they're clinging desperately to the hope that this can all go away and be laughed off as a silly mistake and that they can just go home. "I was just fooling around y'know, just havin' lil fun. I wasn't gonna "do" anything? So I'll just be going, uh . . . home." "If you're just foolin' around," asks the News guy, "why did you take your clothes off and tie a balloon to your balls?" "Well y'see, okay. I bet that looked kinda bad, huh?" It still does.