Year-End Closeout

For our final broadcast week of the year, I am forced to clear out my show prep folder and decide amongst three choices: Get to it on-air this week, throw it away because its’ time has passed, or save it for next year, as the story is timeless.

This year, I realized I have a fourth choice. For a handful of stories, there is this space. Each of these gems is good enough to be presented on-air, but has been shoved aside by more pressing items, like Dawn updating us on the status of her period. Yuck.

Each of these items is, seemingly timeless, but are also poignant right now.

Each of these items highlight the stupidity of humanity, a motif of mine I never like to run from. Thus, I bring you a handful of stories that deserve the spotlight, just not the biggest, brightest spotlight we’ve got:



As we work our way through gnashing our teeth over “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving,” being deemed racist for the first time in 46 years, “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” being accused of bullying, misogyny, homophobia, sadism, racism and more, and the banishing of “Baby it’s cold outside,” from the airwaves, despite more than 90% of all Americans opposing such, it’s hard to keep up with the stupidity of those looking to be offended.

Whenever we talk about the vocal minority working to banish words, songs, phrases, or shows, it is inevitable that someone will ask “what’s next,” which I always caution is a question you don’t really want the answer to, for there will always be one. Now that we have allowed the aggrieved to censor anything that offends anyone, all of it is a target and all of it will be attacked. Enter everyone’s favorite skunk, Pepe Le Pew.

In the #Metoo era, a long-mumbled complaint of radical man-hating feminists is getting a new look and new legitimacy. Pepe Le Pew, of course, is the cartoon world’s epitome of a predatory male and his never-ending pursuit of a female named Penelope who wants nothing to do with him. Ironically, Penelope is a cat, so there’s also the underlying tone of cross-species intimacy which, as a man in an interracial marriage sends me many mixed messages.

The premise is simple, as written by many: Pepe le Pew is a guy who won’t take no for an answer and is NOT charming. Harassment (whether it be a singular incident or repeated pattern) is an issue that is very real, terrifying, and traumatizing for a lot of women. He certainly is a harasser and a skillful, downright sinister manipulator. Kids definitely shouldn’t be watching and laughing at his antics. He’s a flimsy, unlikable character who has been framed poorly since his conception. Penelope doesn’t invite his advances – and in fact she very obviously tries to get away from him – but still he persists, all because he thinks she’s a hot piece of skunk ass. And maybe his smell is her only objection, and maybe it isn’t; these days, someone can refuse a romantic relationship for any number of reasons, and that’s cool. Pepé Le Pew is a bad character that should just go away.

Any questions?



Why not? We’ve done a glorious job of destroying childhood in America over the last two decades. It’s not bad enough that we’ve removed all forms of sadness and failure from children’s lives, leaving them totally unprepared to deal with it on monumental scales as adults. No, we also had to end the joy and wonderment of being a kid by introducing subjects such as gender identity, abortion, throwing rocks at school shooters, and not being friends with other kids who voted for the wrong choice in 2016. Furthering that notion, we continue to make them afraid of…EVERYTHING!

For those of us who had a childhood and miraculously lived to tell about it, we remember that one of the great wonders of being young and relatively free was exploring the world and seeing what we could get away with. Kids are akin to puppies. Everything is new and interesting. If you walk around stopping your puppy from sniffing everything, not ever letting your puppy leave your side, never removing the leash from your puppy, and insisting that your puppy only do what you want it to do, you’re going to wind up with a dog that is afraid of the world, has crippling separation anxiety when it isn’t by your side, is anti-social, and has no interests of its’ own, nor a desire to pursue any. The EXACT same thing applies to children vis a vis adulthood.

But whoever let facts, logic, and reason get in the way of something as so meaningless and trivial as literally deciding the fate and direction of a human being whose entire life has been placed in your hands, through no fault or decision of its’ own?

Enter GPS systems. Glorious. Now, parents are adorning their kids with accessories usually reserved for only the most disgusting amongst us, hardened criminals. And if you think that alone doesn’t send a powerful psychological message, you’re just not conscious.

Gone forever more will be the days of telling parents you’re going one place, when you were always going somewhere else. No more sneaking out during slumber parties to prank a friend’s house. Forget about those high school ragers at the nearby motel. Driving to, and parking, somewhere to make out? That’s done.

It’s more than a right of passage; it’s a necessity to growing up, which, of course, is exactly what more and more American parents are preventing. Such dalliances as described above are vital to learning about boundaries, choices, consequences, adrenaline and its’ control over us at times, independence and the pursuit thereof, dangers, and most importantly at that age…a little bit of freaking fun.

But I get it…far more important that you know exactly where you kid is and what your kid is up to at all times. That way, they have no fun, but they’re totally safe, right?



No, it isn’t.

This entire survey is flawed from the very beginning for one simple reason: who decides what is kinky? defines “kinky,” as “unusual sexual behavior.” Unusual to whom? To me? To 50.1% of Americans, thus the majority? To “experts?”

Not to mention, people lie. Some people exaggerate their sexual behavior when asked, while others demure, lest they be judged by others for being less than pure, innocent and respectful.

Here’s a list of things that I, personally, consider unusual. Some of them I’ve done, or maybe still do, but rarely, therefore they are not usual by my standards:

  • Anything involving human waste
  • Anything involving animals
  • Anything involving the intentional drawing of blood
  • Rough sex to the point of closed fists
  • Penetration of body cavities with extremely large objects, like bowling pins
  • Multiple partners at once
  • Orgies
  • Extreme bondage (machines, racks, knots that take a boy scout degree to tie)
  • Sex in front of strangers (not public sex, but literally you know they’re watching you)
  • All forms of dress-up and role play (this is just stupid)
  • Fetishes with feet
  • Cuckolding (watching your lover get screwed by someone else right in front of you)
  • Anything involving electricity

Here’s what this latest study cites as examples of “kinky” behavior. All of which I consider somewhere between boring-as-hell to standard:

  • Using toys in the bedroom
  • Light bondage (handcuffs and scarves)
  • Spanking
  • Hair pulling
  • Light choking
  • Hot candle wax
  • One partner dominating the other
  • Filthy talk (again, very subjective…who defines “filthy?”)

Good lord. If that stuff is considered “kinky,” and, therefore unusual, it’s no wonder that so many Americans don’t report having satisfying sex lives.

Meanwhile, anal sex, formerly considered the Rubicon in terms of defining whether or not you were a prude or a wild child, is now standard for both men and women under the age of 40. You’re now weird if you’re NOT having anal sex on a regular basis. And that, my friends, is what we call progress.

So, can we just stop with all of this? Stop defining “sex,” and “kinky,” and “extreme,” and “rough,” for each of us. More importantly, stop caring what everyone else is doing and find out what you like.

I’ll make you a deal; if you think I’m disgusting because I think using the “C” word while I’m choking you and pile driving you into China via your anus while occasionally spitting on your face, then don’t have sex with me. And I agree never to allow you to put me asleep while attempting to arouse me with your oh-so-exciting evening of being dressed as a milk-maid while putting a blindfold on me, licking my nipples, and using a feather on my balls while uttering such dirty phrases as “do you like that, bad boy? Do you?” At that point, snoring is the only response you’re getting from me.

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