Dear Solitary Reader:
I find myself sitting disconsolately at my chair tonight. I was ready to do a grand follow up to yesterday’s smashing Sesame Street success but today I am listless. If my tear ducts still worked (accident with an @home DIY Botox Injector I saw on late night TV), tears would be streaming down my face right now.
What has the world come to that we can, seemingly, no longer trust our politicians? These are the few and the proud: these are the people who are uniquely capable of leading us whether it be in our municipalities, our provincial (or state) governments, our federal leaders. These people are obviously superior to us for we place them on a pedestal and tell them: “You are our shepherd; we are your sheep.”
Okay back to reality…
I know the marketing reasons why this is a story worthy of Google news– its got sex and the ruining of a career. The problem is that the news that Paul Giambrone was caught with his “pants on the ground” is just another link in the chain forged by dirt bag politicians.
I think the key teller here is that this Jabrone was actually dumb enough to run for such a high profile position in the first place; I mean unless he’s got a 10-second Tom short term memory problem he’s got to realize he’s been putting Little Paul in all sorts of places where Little Paul shouldn’t be going – and someone is obviously going to talk. Paul shouldn’t disqualify himself for being a womanizing douchebag – Paul should have disqualified himself in the first place for being so naive to believe his transgressions wouldn’t see the light of day.
How could this guy not figure at some point some girl would see his face on TV and tell her friends: “Oh yeah, I tapped that.” My political campaign management experience comes entirely from watching Dave on the W channel and even I know that. Idiot.
Why is the fact that this dude is running around the city of Toronto with his willie uncorked such a big deal? I’m sure there’s some guy that does the same thing on Yonge Street and gets handed all kinds of spare change. Pull up your damn pants Giambrone and get back in the ring – you might lose the election but you’ll lose in style (and think of all the pity shags you could score from the sympathetic female constituency). Bill Clinton sat, lay, crouched in the oval office for eight years – and he’s more of an American Idol than Ruben Studdard.
Honestly, it’s like I’ve always said (well I don’t always say it, I say other stuff too): the type of people who seek power are not the type of people who should have it.