5/23/2007

Maureen Dowd's Gigantic Vagina:
Have you heard about Maureen Dowd's enormous vagina? The Rude Pundit was having a late lunch with a New York Times insider, in that he had had parts of his body inside Maureen Dowd, and he spilled the beans about spilling his seed in Maureen Dowd's pudenda. "Her labia are like goddamn Dumbo ears," he said, sucking down his third vodka martini of the afternoon, jamming a fancy french fry into some bernaise that had been stained with the blood of his rare steak. "No, really, when I was going down on her, I felt like I was wearing moist earmuffs."

Apparently, Dowd's vulva is large enough to fit "three, four elephant dicks. And Tarzan could swing from her clit." He is a man who enjoys his pussy, and he'd be quite adept at having some box lunch if his appetite at the downtown steak joint was any indication. He continued, for, indeed, once a man starts talking about outsized poonani, there's no way to stop him. "Yeah, fucking Maureen Dowd is like launching a bottle rocket into the Grand Canyon," he said, using a chunk of fat to wipe up the remaining eggy sauce. "I think I lost my watch in there." And, yes, his wrist was watchless.

The Rude Pundit asked his dining companion why he fucked Maureen Dowd. "Have you read her shit lately?" he said. "What the fuck? Seriously. What. The. Fuck." He talked about her strange, ongoing assault on the Democratic candidates (and potential candidates) for President. "In the last month, this kooky kooz has called John Edwards a 'metrosexual' 'cause he got an expensive hair cut - lemme tell ya, her dye jobs ain't exactly Clairol off the shelf at CVS. She may as well have just gone Coulter on Edwards' ass and said he was a 'faggot.'

"Then Dowd went off on Barack Obama's wife for acting like a real human being in a real marriage, saying that 'some' saw her as 'emasculating.' And now she's going after Al Gore for being fat, not even paying attention to his new book, but only to if he's gonna lose weight to run for President. Oh, and how he eats a lot. She may as well have pointed her bony ass finger at him like she was on a playground and yelled, 'Fatty-fat-fat, you fat fuck.' You gonna eat that roll?"

The Rude Pundit gestured for him to have at. "By the way, when Maureen Dowd puts her hand around your cock, it feels like an old tree trying to eat a hot dog," he said. But that didn't answer the question. Why did he fuck Maureen Dowd?

He stared, a tinge of regret, a bit of horror, maybe even a shade of sadness, as if he mourned for lost innocence, passing through his eyes. "Because somebody had to," he said. "Someone had to take one for the team. Because in her column today she said that Bill Clinton's girth back in the day was 'roguish,' when, during his presidency, she barely ever missed an opportunity to mention it, like it made him into an overweight rube."

He was on a tear, a man driven to confess, to justify his actions. "Because she seems to think that feminism is about taking down other feminists, men and women. She's just ninety degrees from Ann Coulter in the way she seems to want a real man, one who's not a fat, emasculated metrosexual, to fuck her hard. And, goddamnit, I decided I was that man."

He started to cry, wiping his mouth with his napkin and tossing it on his plate, which only contained a leaf of escarole. "But what I can't get out of my head," he said, "is her vagina, like some undersea beast, nestled in the rocks and coral of her legs. Sometimes, at night, man, I can still hear my watch, its ticking echoing off the walls of her cervix. Hell, if I took a flashlight to her, I'd probably find cave drawings in there."

Taking his hand, the Rude Pundit assured the anonymous New York Times insider that the world would be warned away from Maureen Dowd's expansive vagina, yes, truly a shallow way to judge a woman, but she deserves nothing less.