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  • Writer's pictureJerry Della Femina


What a wonderful week.

It had everything, including the world’s richest man acting like a horny 16-year-old kid and becoming the victim of his own cell phone.

Then there was the most beautiful and dumbest woman in politics showing us there’s no limit to her idiocy and shining a light on the stupidity of some liberal Democrat politicians who encourage her.

And, of course, it was still another week where one could not peacefully hold up a bodega in the Bronx without having one’s picture taken by a surveillance camera and plastered all over local television.

And then there’s Virginia, once again giving us black-and-white proof that they’re a second-rate state.

Which brings me back to a Halloween a million years ago, and how my own father ruined my political future forever.

Honest, I was four or five years old and I had no idea what was going on.

As I said, it was Halloween and there wasn’t a penny to be wasted on a costume for me, so my father took over and burned a piece of cork, and when it cooled off he rubbed the black ash of the cork over my face.

In a second, my face was black. Then he took a piece of cardboard and made a top hat for me to wear.

“What am I, Daddy? What am I?” I asked. “You’re a … a … a … Puritan,” he replied.

Okay, so history wasn’t my father’s best subject, but with that one innocent act my father made it impossible for me to ever be governor of Virginia or, for that matter, of any other state in these politically correct times.

There were no cameras and no pictures, just memories, but what if my political enemies hunted down my little friend Junior Fossati and he remembered seeing me in blackface when I was five years old.

Now, let’s get to the plight of a poor common criminal whose rights are being abused every night on television, and that brings me to the question I must ask:

What’s happening to the local New York City news at 6 and 11?

Roger Grimsby must be spinning in his grave.

They’ve stopped giving us the local news. These days they depend on every piece of footage they can find of speeding car chases and filmed accidents from all over the world. Why would I – why would anyone – be interested in a spectacular car crash in Muncie, Indiana, except for those poor souls who are stuck living in Muncie, Indiana.

I have no idea why this stuff is included in a local New York news show.

Then the “news” gives us interminable weather reports, using up to 15 minutes of a 30-minute news show to feature giggling weatherpeople who go into hysteria over a few inches of snow in the Catskills.

The other night I turned to my wife, the beautiful Judy Licht, and said, “The last time I heard anyone get so excited over six inches I was watching a porn movie.”

Then, of course, every night we see hidden cameras showing hold-ups in bodegas in the South Bronx or some other horrible neighborhood.

Since there are surveillance cameras everywhere these days, one gets to see footage of every two-bit hold-up in bodegas. The screen is so fuzzy and distorted that the perpetrators all seem like the same person.

How far away are we from the day when a clever lawyer will say, “The tape of my client participating in this hold-up was shown without his permission to millions of people. My client demands residuals every time his face is shown on a surveillance tape on television without his permission.” Then he’ll add, “Do criminals have to join the Screen Actors Guild to get residuals from you people?”

Residuals for criminals? Sounds like something my favorite Dumb Dora socialist politician Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez might propose. It goes along with her plan that even those unwilling to work would still be eligible for economic security.

Then there’s her Green New Deal, which she unveiled last week. Needless to say, when Ms. Ocasio-Cortez takes over, every building in the United States will be made energy-efficient. First to go? She wants to eliminate air travel because planes are bad for the atmosphere. She also plans on removing combustible engines from the roads and expanding high-speed rail.

Ms. Ocasio-Cortez has said nothing about airplanes trying to come into the United States from every other country in the world. Countries that don’t plan to eliminate air travel for their citizens. Perhaps we can shoot foreign planes down over Kennedy Airport so that they’ll know Ms. Ocasio-Cortez means business.

Another problem Ms. Ocasio-Cortez has indicated she wants to eliminate is cow farts.

Yes, cow farts, which cause too much methane to go into the atmosphere.

How will she do that? Kill all the cows in the United States, naturally.

No cows. No farts.

The rush to Mexico by herds of carnivores who have been driven crazy in their desire to eat a juicy steak will cause frightened Mexican officials to build a wall to keep Americans out. Naturally, Donald Trump will take credit for the wall.

And finally, we come to Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, the world’s richest man. (Note: I said “richest,” not “smartest.”) There was Bezos dallying with his mistress Lauren Sanchez. If he got caught, his wife could hit him with the world’s first multi-billion-dollar divorce suit.

He and Ms. Sanchez were in various stages of undress. Then, in that wonderful stage of sexual bliss where the blood goes to a man’s lower extremities and leaves his brain, Bezos reached for his cell phone and started taking selfies.

Why not? He’s the world’s richest man, and no one will ever see his private photos of his private parts.

Now at this point I must not continue to call Bezos’s penis his “private parts.”

This is the world’s richest man and his penis deserves a better name than his “private parts.” To solve this, I most go back to my beloved Brooklyn, back to the Avenue U of my youth, and use the wonderful descriptive word for penis we all used: “schlong.”

Bezos took a selfie of his schlong. “Schlong” is a word that says it all. It says weight, length, etc.

Sadly, the text and pictures of Bezos proudly displaying his schlong in different stages got out.

Somehow the National Enquirer tabloid, which we all guiltily look at while we’re checking out at the supermarket, broke the story.

The Enquirer had obtained private photos and texts of Bezos with his mistress.

American Media, the publisher of the National Enquirer, and its Chief Executive David Pecker, who can’t seem to stay out of trouble, decided to press the story.

In a bombshell blog to the world, Bezos fought back. He accused David Pecker of trying to blackmail him.

This gave us the only laugh in this sordid story, when the New York Post, having fun with Pecker’s unfortunate name, had the front-page headline of the decade:


Perhaps it’s time for Pecker to change his name, which seems to cause him so much embarrassment. Who knows, someday he will be known as David Schlong.

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