Yes sir, that's my Weiner.
Like most people, I’ve been reviewing all the crotch shots I’ve taken of myself over the years. The tragic case of Rep. Andrew Weiner (yes, it’s pronounced “weener”) should be a wake-up call for all of us. It’s a sad commentary on today’s wired world, but with all these tattletale women complaining willy-nilly of receiving crotch shots of unknown provenance, it’s more important than ever for respectable married guys to maintain a high degree of deniability. For all future crotch shots, I’m going to have my Social Security card and that day’s newspaper in the frame.
I’m pretty sure Rep. Weiner will be doing the same. As it stands now, all he can do is tell Wolf Blitzer that the crotch shot in question may or may not be an accurate depiction of his own bulging privates. Probably not, of course. But even if it is, it’s certainly not a recent shot. And even if it is recent, he certainly didn’t send it. And even if he did send it, it was probably because a hacker gained temporary access to his cerebral cortex. The part the regulates boorish behavior.
Those damned hackers and their hurtful pranks. They should just grow up. This kind of thing keeps up, they’re going to ruin it for everybody.
Kansas: It ain’t just a caucus
The gamblers have spoken
Mistakes were made
Farewell to the last of the cowboys