Carlos Danger provides endless entertainment
I won’t judge Anthony Weiner. Yes, he’s sinned and acted sleazy, but as it says in the Bible, “Let he who hasn’t digitally transmitted nude photos of himself to unsuspecting women under the alias of ‘Carlos Danger’ cast the first stone.”
Personally, I love the guy. I even cut out a picture of him from the newspaper. I’m going to enlarge it (stop it, you perverts) into a life-size cardboard cutout. You know how if you want to look skinny you stand next to someone who is fat? If you want to look like a good husband, you stand next to Anthony Weiner.
The patron saint for bad husbands can help us married guys out when we screw up. Like when our wives tell us to pick up some stuff from the store, but on the way to City Market, we turn on the radio and hear “Jet Airliner” by the Steve Miller Band and get so caught up in it that we forget the milk and baby powder and come home with beef jerky and margarita mix instead. We can just point to the New York mayoral candidate and say, “Well, at least I didn’t send pictures of my private parts to an anonymous woman in Seattle.” And our wives will just have to shrug and agree with us — unless it happens to be my wife, who’d probably be OK being married to a guy who likes to flash people on the Internet, so long as he remembered the milk and baby powder.
Amazingly, and despite now two separate sexting scandals years apart, Weiner has been leading in the polls, meaning the next mayor of New York could likely be a man who calls himself “Carlos Danger” and who spends his spare time sharing nude photos of himself with women he’s never met.
Having a state representative who spends too much on tanning salon memberships doesn’t seem so bad now, does it western Colorado?
If Weiner were to be elected, he’d become the worst mayor since, well, the current one, Michael Bloomberg, who thinks the most serious, most dangerous issue facing the city is the retail sale of Big Gulps.
In a sick way, I have more respect for the Bill Clintons and Mark Sanfords of the world. At least with those slimeballs, there was some human interaction. Anthony Weiner, on the other hand, has somehow managed to get himself in a sex scandal where’s there isn’t any sex involved.
Someone hipper than me (which covers about the entire human population) will have to explain the appeal of this particular brand of courtship. The naked Twitter thing, I mean.
Is this common? I don’t pretend to have insight into the female mind, but I can’t imagine there’s a contingent of single American women out there, just sitting around bored at home thinking, “Gosh, I sure wish an odd-looking, unemployed, middle-aged married guy from Brooklyn would send me pictures of his genitals right now.”
During an awkward press conference, Mrs. Carlos Danger, otherwise known as Huma Abedin (a former White House intern), stood by Weiner’s side, steadfast and unruffled. Admirable to be sure, but I suppose when you’ve had to spend the majority of your adult life telling people you were once a White House intern for Bill Clinton, you probably don’t embarrass easily.
Not all wives are as forgiving. If this happened to me? I can say with certainty that my wife would be not be standing by me. Over me, perhaps, as she reloaded — but not by me.
And yet while his poll numbers are falling, he remains a positive, energetic campaigner, and not some (pardon the expression) crotchety old man.
I know because I love a good train wreck, and am thus closely following his campaign. You can follow it, too, by checking out the Weiner for mayor website.
But I’d recommend opting out of receiving his Twitter updates.