Who can ‘Puter turn to? Well, Gormogon operative T.G., of course. T.G. writes in with praise and criticism for ‘Puter’s post regarding Ms. Jenny McCarthy’s heartfelt yet profoundly stupid campaign against childhood vaccinations. Thus spake T.G.:
Point taken, but you probably could have made a stronger case for her terminal doofusness if you hadn’t attached a picture from her SMOKING HOT period. But hey, what the hell do I know? I still can’t figure out why Art Laffer voted for Bill Clinton … twice!
‘Puter’s always said we Gormogons have the smartest, most obsequious operatives of all. So, here’s a less hot picture of Ms. McCarthy for T.G. Man, check out the size of her frontal lobes! And, confidential to T.G., ask Mandarin why Laffer voted for Clinton at this year’s inaugural Gormogonicon, and you might be surprised at the response.
Here’s a freebie for all Gormogon followers everywhere: ‘Puter’s Unifying Theory on Crazy, Hot Women. A man’s tolerance for craziness in womenfolk is directly proportional to the woman’s hotness, but only to a point. That is, the hotter the woman, the crazier she can be. Until, of course, the inflection point is hit, where the woman is so crazy, no sane man would go anywhere near her, regardless of her hotitude. An example. An average woman can only be average crazy and still be successful with men. If you’re Jenny-McCarthy-in-her-prime-hot, you can be a lot crazier and still get men. If you’re Jenny McCarthy today, you’ve hit the inflection point, and you are now damned to spend eternity with rubber-faced, used-to-be-funny Jim Carrey.
And what have we learned today, Dear Readers? If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.