Mercy me! While pondering the situation recently posited for our Bitter Readers, I decided to drop in on Bubbaworld - who seems to be a fellow keeping track of some of the stranger goin’s-on in Oklahoma. That could turn into a full-time job.

Bubba reminded me of “The Case of the Masturbating Judge.”  It seems that Creek County (OK) District Judge Donald Thompson used to, er, entertain himself whilst trials were being held before his bench.

“The Case of the Masturbating Judge takes Oklahoma’s Law and Order reputation to new levels, unfortunately very low levels. Creek County District Judge Donald Thompson “retired” while facing proceedings to oust him from the bench on allegations of using a “penis pump” to masturbate during both jury and non-jury trials, including those for first degree murder.  Thompson now stands a convicted felon following a jury trial in which he was found guilty of four counts of indecent exposure, sentenced to four years in prison, fined $40,000 and required to register as a sex offender.”

Ah, yes, that should be sweet enough, BWs; but, there’s more.

Before the matter came to trial, Thompson sent a letter of resignation to Gov. Brad Henry, which–if accepted–would allow him to retire with a full pension. Somewhere, sanity prevailed and the pension was revoked. Naturally, time on his hands (sorry), the incarcerated Thompson appealed the decision. (Lord knows that a man of his age, what with being a convicted sex offender–thus unemployable–needs the income.) According to THE TULSA WORLD (March 7, 2007):

“A hearing to determine whether to reinstate the state retirement benefits of former Creek County District Judge Donald D. Thompson has been continued indefinitely. “

Wahoo! Applause for the good guys.  Once again on June 21, 2007, THE TULSA WORLD reports:

“The Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board on Wednesday unanimously voted not to grant former Creek County District Judge Donald D. Thompson parole.”

Sweet Jesus–sweet Justice…..

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Over here in the Colonies, either we have a penchant for electing men to office who (A) won’t go home when the party is over, and (B) won’t keep their penis in their pants or confine said penii to a wife/partner, or American males’ combined Intelligence/Propriety Quotient has slipped way into the red zone.  We have a helluva crop of men—not drugged-out, megalomaniac Hollywoodies—but dammit all, elected politicians–who insist upon doing truly stupid things publicly.

Everyone remembers the anticlimactic—you should excuse the expression—Presidential sex scandal when then-US President Bill Clinton received some on-the-job relief from Ms. Monica Lewinsky, asked her to lie about it, faced the TV cameras himself and said, “I did not have sex with that woman.” Smiling Bill then lied to Congress his-damn-self and was impeached for lying, then continued to serve out his term. Where I come from that is called, “getting spanked…” (Code: “…on the wrist.”).

Fall of 2006, then-Congressional Representative Mark Foley, R-Fla., was accused of “inappropriate sexual contact with minors” those minors being teen-aged boys serving as Pages in that august institution.  The predictable posturing ensued, until the weasel was confronted with hard-copies of his steamy emails, after which he resigned and checked himself into an “Arizona facility.” His attorney’s statement said Foley was gay, an alcoholic, and had been molested by a priest as a teenage altar boy in Florida.  (In my university Logic class they called that a “Red Herring.”)

Godawmighty! It ain’t even safe to go to the toilet in—of all places that otta be safe—an airport.  Senator Larry Craig (R-Idaho) was arrested and pled guilty when held on a complaint of lewd conduct in the Minneapolis, MN, airport. (Notice I’ve skipped right past all the gut-busting things I could say about Homeland Security.) Senator Craig, a conservative Republican, has defended American morals by a public stand against gay and lesbian issues, chiefly same-sex marriage.  When facing the camera about these charges, the first thing he wanted the voters to know apparently was, “I’m not gay.”  (Did I just hear San Francisco emit a sigh of relief?)

I really want to know what it is about men and their dicks; then, throw power into the mix, and they get just nutty. I know it IS possible that there are women who’ve been elected to office who both (A) and (B)—yet, somehow they manage to stay out of (public toilets) and the media with their shenanigans.

In light of all this hanky-panky, I’m considering not using the Ladies loo any more. The best you can do in there is eavesdrop on juicy dishing and maybe scrounge a bit of hairspray. Hell, if I’da known you could get laid in the Men’s Room, I’da made the switch a long time ago.

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A book is a mirror:

if an ape looks into it

an apostle is hardly likely to look out.

–George Christoph Lichtenberg

BITTER WOMEN:     on Men

Mamma and my aunt sit chatting in the kitchen

–a stick of furniture, I am invisible and mute–

they discuss my prospects for success with men

and how, subsequently, to make something of my life

Outside the window, sweetpeas

curl up the strings in the garden. Up to my elbows

in soapsuds and hot water,

I watch Uncle Junior’s dog, Duke, lay down in the cool,

right on the roots of the Sweetpea vines.

I face–at last–my nature as being, well, unsuitable for wedded bliss.

Its because I don’t like dogs.

Duke lies around all day, unaware that he sprawls

in a precious spot and may uproot the vines;

he won’t come when he’s called or in the same room,

but can hear from a half-block away food stirred up in the kitchen.

He dumps the garbage bin, playfully rolls in it, reeks of it

then looks dumb and adorable at the same time.

When I want to be alone, Duke wants to play.

When I want to sleep, Duke wants to play.

He drinks from the toilet, then growls when I

shoo him off a lovely chintz chair.

Duke will sit in the road or the middle of the living room,

do grisly things with his mouth, then

try to give me a kiss.

Dogs are tiny little suitors in fur coats.

All legal rights reserved. Copyright 2004.

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Whilst cruising past the really big news: TomKat’s bride’s new haircut (same barbershop, maybe?), Paris’ Potty Problems, and Angelina’s lawyer falling on his sword for Queen BigLips and Country—quite desperate to get the sweet taste out of my mouth—I encountered an ongoing debate on BlogHer.com raising the question of whether the nomination of a female as President of India is, indeed, empowerment or tokenism. Whether that’s the case or not—ground broken is ground broken.

Pressing on, I can’t help but reflect on the ongoing similar (however different) discussion about American Democratic front-runner, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton—who, if you’ve just arrived on the planet, is a female, a Democrat and no matter what New-Yorkers say, is from Arkansas. That discussion cannot be separated from the same (but different) discussion about Sen. Barack Obama—whose name initially scared the shit out of (more…)

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No kidding, Googling for “Bitter Women,” I found this guy–clearly satirical, sure, and this guy has a true knack for words.  A knack for twisting ‘em to make his attitude bad judgment and poor choices sound like the fault of the one judged and chosen. Listen to this.

Hi there,  I’m seeking a like-minded woman to share a disasterous 3-9 month relationship with, ending in acrimony, emotional chaos, and possibly legal proceedings.My name is Miguel , I live in Edinburgh , I’m 25 years old, Fairly well educated, I hold down a good job and am pretty stable. I’m told I’m fairly good looking, but I’ll let you be the judge of that - I’m generally caring and very honest. I am looking for an attractive female who will at first give me obsessive love, praise and devotion - but whose paranoia, self-loathing and fear of rejection and abandonment will eventually lead her to alternately push me away and pull me closer in a love/hate cycle that will lead to infidelity, consensual sexual violence, and the eventual emotional breakdown of one or other party - or if we’re lucky - both!You should:* be 20 to 35 years old;
* have a history of short, intense, drama-driven relationships;
* enjoy degrading and dehumanising sex;
* have undergone negative psychiatric evaluations in the past; and
* be willing to threaten self-harm and/or annihilation as a weapon to control your partner and make them stay with you and care for you.

Although not completely necessary, I would prefer women:

* with nice smiles;
* that have larger than average breasts;
* who are married or already in unstable relationships;
* that drink to forget; and
* who have had a previous established diagnosis of Borderline or Dependent Personality Disorder or Bi-Polar Affective Disorder - or who are currently taking Lithium Carbonate, SSRIs, or Tri-cyclic antidepressants

If you think you meet these requirements (and wow, I’m getting excited just writing them!), please don’t hesitate to get back to me as soon as possible. In the meantime, thank you for reading my advert, and do take care.

All the best,

Miguel x

ps This advert is in recognition of the big neon sign on my forehead that everyone else can see except me.

Miguel. Miguel. You poor guy.  Be glad to help you out with that forehead thing. Hmmm. It says “dq wap.”  Oh, sorry. Yeah.  It means Drama Queen with a penis.

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