Have you been following the buzz about the Congressman who wanted to thumb through a few pages—Congressional House teenage boy pages that is.
So another political creep gets creepier and then gets caught. Now all the other Congressmen have their panties in a political twist, calling it “an obscene breach of trust” and “unacceptable and abhorrent.”
Well gosh golly gee! Do ya really think so?!
Puuuuuleaze. What a bunch of sanctimonious windbags.
These are the same lawmakers who would gladly glad-hand a pedophile if it meant they could squeeze a vote out of it. The creeps just keep getting creepier.
Oh sure, they’re calling for a full investigation into Congressman Mark Foley’s inability to keep his private parts private. But really, what good is it going to do? There is so much ugliness on Capital Hill, what’s one more mug shot posted to The Smoking Gun’s website. Every single one of the warmongering, cash grabbing, back-stabbing bastards should be tossed out on their ear. But you know as well as I do, it ain’t never gonna happen Gomer.
This, just like every other sexual peccadillo, is going to end up under the carpet and forgotten within a month’s time.
How many people remember the Capital Hill teenage boy prostitution scandal of the 1980s? Do the names Craig Spence or Stephen Gobie (a.k.a. Greg Davis) ring any bells? What if I told you a Congressman had a prostitution ring being operated out of his home back in the ‘80s—and he was still in office today?
“Nah, I never heard of that.”
Don’t believe me? Give Representative Barney Frank a call. I’ll bet he remembers it.
How about the underage boys who were parceled out to the Capital Hill elite at pleasure parties? Some even suggested George H. W. Bush himself participated. Surely you’d remember something as salacious as that, right?
“Nah, I never heard of that either.”
In another year I’ll ask, ‘How about Congressman Foley getting caught with his fly in the ointment?”
“Nope. Doesn’t ring any bells.”
The politicians on Capital Hill count on our long and short term memory lapses. That’s why they’re still grabbing for the cookie jar that we so graciously keep refilling.