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Being
a big fan of your book Skipping Towards Gomorrah, you
can no doubt imagine how delighted I was to read all about
William J. Bennett’s gambling problem. America’s No. 1 moral
crusader lost millions of dollars in Las Vegas casinos. I
realize that it’s not cool to laugh at the misfortunes of
others, but I’m willing to make an exception for Bennett.
So Republicans like Rick Santorum would have us believe that
it’s not OK for two queers to fuck in the privacy of
their own home, but it’s just dandy for Bennett to blow eight
million bucks in Sin City?
—Bennett’s
Chips Flow
I’m
not going to pile on top of poor Bill Bennett. Not only did
he get caught indulging in a low, common, squalid vice, he
also pledged to give it up after he got caught. That’s
pathetic. Think of all the vice-lovin’ homos, adulterers,
and pot smokers out there that Bennett made all those blown
millions berating. Have we given up vices? No way! Apparently
we’re made of stronger stuff than wimpy ol’ Bill Bennett.
So I’m going to refrain from beating up on the big ol’ sissy.
Anyway, why should I bother? Hundreds of other writers have
already pointed out that Bill Bennett’s justifications for
his vice—never hurt anyone, didn’t break the law, “If you
can’t handle it, don’t do it. . . .”—apply to vices that Bennett
made millions condemning. Getting a blowjob in the Oval Office
from an eager intern, for instance, isn’t against the law,
didn’t hurt anyone, and clearly Clinton could handle it.
So, again, I’m going to nobly resist the urge to pile on top
of a weak, wimpy, repentant Bill Bennett. Instead, BCF, I’m
going to do what I can to help Bill out. As every gambler,
pot smoker, faggot, and 42nd President of the United States
can tell you, giving up a vice you enjoy isn’t easy. Gambling
addicts who attempt to kick the habit usually suffer at least
one relapse, and I don’t think Bennett’s career could stand
even a single relapse. And isn’t it better for us sinners
to keep a wounded, comprised virtuecrat on the stage than
see him replaced by some asshole whose secret vice has yet
to be exposed? So I’m asking America’s sinners to help me
help Bill: If you see Bennett anywhere near a casino, tell
him to go home to the wife.
Of course, not all American sinners know what Bennett looks
like. We’re too busy sinning to catch the Sunday morning talk
shows. So to help sinners better police Bill Bennett’s private
life, I am making available, for a limited time only, a very
special deck of playing cards. Nevada’s Most Wanted is modeled
on those Iraq’s Most Wanted playing cards distributed by the
U.S. military. But instead of pictures of Saddam Hussein and
his henchmen, Nevada’s Most Wanted features pictures of Bill
Bennett on every card. Buy a pack, familiarize yourself with
Bennett, and if you see him in or near a casino, call the
number on the back of your Nevada’s Most Wanted cards and
let Mrs. Bennett know that she needs to come down to the Bellagio
and collect her husband.
A deck of Bill Bennett playing cards is $10, and you can order
yours by visiting www.thestranger.com. Only a limited number
of Nevada’s Most Wanted decks will be printed, so order yours
today.
Ashton
Kutcher is hosting Saturday Night Live as I write this, and
he’s doing the monologue wearing no pants, just tighty-whities.
I’m in Vermont and I have no idea what time zone you live
in, but I immediately thought, “God, I hope Dan Savage is
watching this,” and ran to my computer.
—DW
Thanks
for the heads-up, DW, but I wouldn’t have missed Ashton hosting
SNL for the World Series of Poker. And when he walked out
in his underwear I thought, “Maybe there is a God!” Bill Bennett
and Ashton Kutcher both exposed on the same day?! Thank
you, Jesus. And thank you too, Washington Monthly,
Newsweek, and Lorne Michaels.
However,
I have a bone to pick with the American people. Back when
I first started writing about Ashton, most of the mail I got
in response went like this: “Ashton who?” When I said, “Ashton
Kutcher, only the most beautiful man on television today,”
people told me to stop thinking with my dick. Yes, I was thinking
with my dick. Find me a guy who doesn’t. And to everyone who
doubted my dick’s judgment, well, I can’t resist pointing
out that my dick has been vindicated. Everybody has
the hots for Ashton now—don’t believe me? Check out the cover
of Rolling Stone. And the next time my dick has something
to say, listen up.
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I’m
a 23-year-old gay male who’s been following the Rick Santorum
scandal, and I have a proposal. Washington and the press seem
content to let Santorum’s comments fade into political oblivion,
so I say the gay community should welcome this “inclusive”
man with open arms. That’s right, if Rick Santorum wants to
invite himself into the bedrooms of gays and lesbians (and
their dogs), I say we include him in our sex lives—by naming
a gay sex act after him.
Here’s where you come in, Dan. Ask your readers to write in
and vote on which gay sex act is worthy of the Rick Santorum
moniker. It could be all forms of gay sex (“I pulled a Rick
Santorum with my straight roommate in college”); or orgasm
in a gay context (“We fooled around, and then I Rick Santorum-ed
all over his face”); or maybe something weirder (“We bought
some broom handles and we’ll be Rick Santorum-ing all night.”)
You pick the best suggestions and we all get to vote! And
then, voila! This episode will never be forgotten!
—Sex
and Rick Santorum
Two
quibbles, SARS. . .
First, there’s no such thing as a gay sex act. There’s nothing
two men or two women can do in beds, bushes, or butts that
a man and woman can’t also do. Second, even if there were
gay-specific sex acts, why save “Santorum, Santoruming, Santorumed”
for gay sex acts? Santorum didn’t just say that gays have
no right to private, consensual sex, he said that no one,
gay or straight, has that right. He even said that states
should be able to outlaw birth control. That makes
Sen. Santorum a threat to the sexual freedom of straight people
too—and straight people should contemplate that fact whenever
they pull a Rick Santorum, don’t you think?
Minor quibbles aside, SARS, I love your suggestion. There’s
no better way to memorialize the Santorum scandal than by
attaching his name to a sex act that would make his big, white
teeth fall out of his big, empty head. And don’t doubt for
a moment that Savage Love readers have the power to do just
that: Savage Love readers selected “pegging” for a woman doing
a man in the ass with a strap-on dildo—much to my Aunt Peggy’s
dismay—and “pegging” is already showing up in dictionaries
of sexual slang. So, readers: Should a “Santorum” be a common
or a rare sex act? Vanilla or kinky? Sweet or gruesome? Send
in your suggestions, I’ll print the best, and we’ll vote.
And then, if God really wants to prove to me that he exists,
a videotape of Bill Bennett and Rick Santorum Santorum-ing
each other will somehow fall into my hands. And if you want
to get my ass into church every Sunday for the rest of my
life, God, toss in a videotape of Ashton Kutcher Rick Santorum-ing
Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
mail@savagelove.net
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