In 2009 I scored an interview unlike any other – the breasts of Governor Mark Sanford’s mistress. They were willing to talk. I was willing to listen. With an ear at each side, I asked questions. Hard questions. And the Argentinian’s left and right answered.
Say what you will about the former Republican official, but the body parts he threw it all away for were top notch. Unfortunately, breasts are capable of getting cold feet (who knew?), and they requested the interview not be published. Being the honest and upstanding guy I am, the interview was wiped away like the last little dribble from a nursing mother’s nipple.
Fast forward to today, where I just convinced a certain member of Congress’ member to talk. Anthony Weiner’s Weiner was ready to come clean last night, and I was ready to book a last-minute flight out from an undisclosed location to meet with it.
While I must admit that crawling inside a pair of Congressman Weiner’s “skinny jeans” was a bit cramped, the interview was worth it. The New York Democrat was even kind enough to leave his zipper open, which did a lot for the air and light quality inside.
Here now is my interview with Congressman Anthony Weiner’s weiner. I’d like to thank his testicles for a.) not getting testy with me, and b.) making room for an out of shape journalist who forgot to take his shoes off at the underwear.
DR. B: Can I call you Weiner?
Congressman Weiner’s Penis: Most people call me Mjǫlnir, but sure.
DR. B: Isn’t that Thor’s hammer?
DR. B: Interesting.
Weiner: It’s a long story. It might come out sometime next year, at this rate.
DR. B: I’d be more than happy to break that story. Feel free to share at any time during the interview. With that said – Twitter. The texts. The pictures. The lies. Why?
Weiner: Let’s get one thing straight right now. Brett Farve’s penis has nothing on me. That show-boater had to fully expose himself to get a little attention. He had to go after a smoking-hot cheerleader for attention (how original), and even then the story didn’t have legs.
DR. B: Some might say the media was covering up for Farve.
Weiner: Not Farve. His penis, Fourth and Long.
DR. B: Who?
Weiner: Fourth and Long. That’s what they call him.
DR. B: (shaking my head). Whatever. Your response indicates that it’s not the man who is responsible for his actions, but his libido.
Weiner: Do you really think this story has lasted as long as it has because of the PR gaffes of the Congressman? I love the guy, I really do. He’s handled our relationship wonderfully for years. But Mjǫlnir gets what Mjǫlnir wants. And right now Mjǫlnir wants this story to stick around.
DR. B: Did you just refer to yourself in third person?
DR. B: You’re very bold.
Weiner: You’re just noticing?
DR. B: I feel as though we’re getting sidetracked. Back to Twitter and the lies? Why?
Mjǫlnir: Larry Craig. Republican Senator from Idaho. Want to know why he went out like he did? It’s because his weiner is lazy. There, I said it. Men are easy. Men aren’t complicated. You want to play Star Wars light sabre fight in an airport bathroom? Any guy can do that. Men are like shaved Wookies, led around by their basest instincts. You want to fly the Millennium Falcon into a college co-ed’s Exogorth – that requires skill. Those kids are crazy!
DR. B: I’m so confused right now.
Mjǫlnir: The space monster from Empire Strikes Back? On the asteroid. It had a name.
DR. B: Mjolnir, with all due respect –
Weiner: The kind of skills it takes to navigate the legislative horse-trading circus – do you even realize how hard it is to get a bill to the president’s desk and signed into law? – those skills have been honed in Anthony Weiner during the past six years of online sexual banter. Today’s legislation is usually passed in back rooms in the middle of the night, so why can’t I let loose in Congressional offices during the workday? Anthony’s Weiner’s texting, in a way, has been more open than the modern legislative process! And yet “journalists” like you want to come after me? Or are you a Private Dick? Nice try, Columbo.
DR. B: Peter Falk references aside (he is a great man)…
Weiner: You ever see Murder Inc.?
DR. B: Yes. Classic. But we’re talking Weiner Inc.
Weiner: The stakes were high, and I took my chances with a Blackjack dealer. I know it’s questionable. But that’s really none of your business.
DR. B: Don’t you think this is one of those instances where the cover up is worse than the crime? I think the lesson here seems to be about lying.
Weiner: You know what? Screw you pal. I’m covered up all day, every day. Crawl into someone else’s pants pocket and stay there for a few hours and see how you feel. Sweaty and alone are good bets. Weiners gets stir crazy just like anyone else. I’m a star, and a star’s got to shine. You can’t pull the shade on the sun and say, “No thanks, pal.” It doesn’t work. Likewise, Weiner’s Weiner is a porn star trapped in a Congressman’s clothing. And right now, this porn star is done with you! Anthony, get Peter Falk out of here!
And with that, I was banished from the Congressman’s pants forever. The takeaway? Weiner’s Weiner won’t be the last to make a name for himself. There will be others. They’ll exacerbate the worst details of a story about masturbation. They’ll make it about much, much more by lying. And when that happens, I’ll be there with pad and pen breaking the story.
And Mjolnir, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days: thanks for shaving before our interview.