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Larry Craig is not Gay—He Has Restless Crotch Syndrome

As all of you know by now, Idaho Senator Larry Craig was busted several weeks ago for attempting to get his summer groove on with a Minnesota Serpico in a Minneapolis airport toilet. Yes, it appears that Larry tried to get a party started by playing footsie with an undercover cop who was trying to offload a chimichanga he just had for lunch.

I guess Justin Timberlake isn’t the only one trying to bring sexy back.

I have a question for the homosexual community: is this a normal gay thing…the…uh…toilet sex? Help me out, those in the know, are the urges that crazy and intense? Can’t they just wait until they get back to their Miata or a Motel 6 and resist the urge to do the funky monkey in a nasty public lavatory?

Hasn’t the gay community watched Seinfeld and (with the rest of us) become germaphobes? I thought that you guys were, on the whole, persnickety and would be too fastidious to seek fulfillment in a stinking john. However, I just remembered that one of your sources of inspiration is George Michael so…never mind.

You know, as much as this situation sucks for Craig, he had better thank God that he hit on a cop and not a redneck. If someone tried to rub my foot and give me elaborate Boy George hand signals while I’m bilging in the stall next door, I would:

A). crush his metatarsals like Queen Latifah on a live cockroach,

B). drain my bladder in the shoe housing his newly-crushed foot,

C). proceed to stuff his balding head in the toilet he was using, and…

D). call the cops to haul his near-drowned, lesson-learned, badly-beaten body to the nearest police department.

The thing that slays me is that after Craig said “I’m guilty” of harassing a cop with complex foot and hand signals like some nutty, gay third base coach trying to wave a runner in, he did a 180 and said “I’m not guilty” and “I’m not gay.” In addition, he stated during his freak-out press conference this week that Scarlett Johansson is not hot, Woody Allen has great hair, and that he was the real fifth Beatle.

Look, Larry, none of us are buying the not guilty and not gay claims. If you want the GP to believe your nonsense, what you need to do is invent some malady to blame for your behavior. Our dysfunctional and therapeutic community will buy that horse crap, and I guarantee that a drug company will create a pill for your fabricated pain.

Howzabout something like this: you’re a victim of RCS (Restless Crotch Syndrome). That’s it! Think about it. You have an illness that made you try to crawl into another guy’s stall. Are you smelling what I’m cooking? It’s not your fault; you never would have violated the cop’s space if you had had some Horndoginex. Whew! What a weight off your shoulders! You owe me money for that one, LC.

Seriously folks, why can’t anyone just say that they’re guilty and deserve whatever whipping comes their way when they’re caught red-handed doing stupid, stupid stuff? I know every sinful and dumb thing that I have done, regardless of the extenuating circumstances, has ultimately been my fault, except for the other day when a really slow driver was making me late for an appointment and caused me to blow through a red light onto the sidewalk and crush seven cats. That was grandma’s fault officer, not mine.

Whatever happened to good old-fashioned “I suck, please forgive me God” repentance? Listen to me Larry: don’t be an OJ; he’s a pariah who will live on in infamy. Be thou the penitent one and own whatever you have done, dude.

To heck with public opinion and what people will think. Focus rather on the inevitable mano-a-mano that you will one day have with God (and He can’t be buffaloed). Let that pending appointment guide thee to get real with yourself, your family, and the public. Sure you might lose face with some folks (you already have), and yes your career will, ironically, go down the toilet (it already has), but at least you will have a clean conscience before God and some public respect for owning it when you have blown it.

Doug Giles

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