Monday, December 08, 2008

Empathy for the She-Devil

To follow up on that truly awesome story about the married cougar hooking up in the Metrodome john, a couple of observations:

1) The Blogger polling ap sucks. You can't change the font color or background, and the black-on-navy blue format rendered the thing nearly illegible.

2) A disturbing number of you have anonymous adulterous affairs at Iowa truck stops.

3) The more upright citizens of KAR nation are of the same mind as me that this MilFy married mother of 3 is a total horny minx who was fully aware of what she was doing when she got some backdoor lovin' in that men's room with some guy she never met.

4) A thin film of poll respondents thought that she was completely out of her gourd and had no clue what she was doing. The term "blackout" was thrown around quite a bit. But it's my understanding that alcohol induced blackouts have to do with a person's memory of a given event or space of time rather than a complete incompetency to act in the present.

And that part may be true. I don't see any reason why we shouldn't take her at her word when she says she has no memory of the incident between the time shortly before young Mister Walsh inserted his wiener into her willing womanhood up until the moment her afterglow got harshed by one of Minneapolis' finest. In fact, I am pretty sure the same thing happened to me this weekend. To wit, it seems that I got so drunk this weekend that I:
  • Turned gay
  • Enrolled in Columbia University
  • Tried to get Columbia to reinstate its ROTC program
  • Wrote an article about my efforts for the Wall Street Journal, in which I
  • Spelled my own name wrong.

I confess complete ignorance. I know that I made my traditional Sunday morning bloody mary a bit strong yesterday, but- this, this is not me. I'm not gay. I'm all about my children. I go to church sometimes. I didn't even know that Columbia had banned ROTC from campus until I read about it in my own Wall Street Journal article!

Somebody must have slipped something into my drink. Yeah. That's it.

[Tip o' the pitcher to pretty much every person who reads this ThunderJournal for pointing me toward this story, which I do not deny happened, but is totally out of character for me. In conclusion: not gay.]

LEARNEDFOOTE DONS HIS COLUMBO HAT: Oh, and one more thing...

For those of us into doing the ameteur sleuthing into Mrs. Feldman's story there is one very important but unanswered question that points to motive. She left her seat claiming that she "had to go to the bathroom". Well, we know that she did go to a bathroom. But did she ever pee?

We don't know, and no one's ever said.

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