Dear Dr. Liberal,
Since Tiger Woods seems to be on the cusp of declaring himself to be a sex addict, do you think that means he would have sex with me?
Signed,
Ready for Wood(s)
Dear Ready,
Years ago we had a name for guys with Tiger’s type of sex addiction. We called it being horny. Please note that I am not disparaging actual sex addicts. I’m just saying that Tiger is probably not one. If he is addicted to anything, he is addicted to making hundreds of millions of dollars and “sex addiction” helps him return to making
hundreds of millions of dollars.
That said, I am relived that Tiger has chosen “sex addiction” as his route back to public acceptance rather than conversion to “Christianity.’ To me, crying and hugging Brit Hume while confessing his sins on Fox News seems a lot less dignified to me than crying and hugging Bob Costas while cursing his dread disease on ESPN.
So, no. Tiger Woods would not have sex with you.
Next!
Dear Dr. Liberal,
Does the Scott Brown win in Massachusetts have any impact on the Delaware Senate race. Or, to be more specific, is it more likely now that Beau Biden will sit out the Senate race this year?
Curious in Camden
Dear Curious,
Beau? I’m wondering about Joe Biden? What does he do now that the Obama Presidency is as over as Madonna’s marriage to Guy Ritchie? Does Joe run against Obama in a primary? [Aside: Just kidding. Untwist thy panties Sir Nemski.]
But seriously Curious, your question is astute. The fact is that the Democrats loss of Ted Kennedy’s seat to a nudist with Republican devil horns clearly visible under his receding hairline, spells bad news for Beau boosters.
Since Democrats stand for nothing, what could Beau’s platform possibly be? “Hi, I’m Beau Biden?” While that is enough to get elected to Delaware AG, it seems thin to me for a Senate race.
Corrections:
Since I once again have nothing from last week to correct (SUCK IT MEDIOCRITY! ), I will use this space to revise and extend my remarks on Beau Biden.
The very act of thinking about what Beau Biden might do reminds me of how much we are like Plato’s cave dweller’s when it comes to discerning political reality. We can see shadows dance against the wall and imagine that they mean something, but if ever we broke our chains and climbed into the light of day and glimpsed the actual reality of Mike Castle getting a backrub from Misty Seamans – our bafflement and gobsmackedness would cause us to suddenly melt into rancid puddles of sea water.
The Doctor is out.