So there's yet another sex scandal, and this one is a floozy-ridden doozy.
FIA president Max Mosely has been accused of engaging in sex acts with five hookers, in scenarios involving Nazi role-playing. This Brit is so twisted he makes Elliot Spitzer look like Miley Cyrus. And vice versa.
But it raises two questions: While this behavior is perverted and creepy, why should we care? The girls were paid, no one got hurt and maybe the guy has a right to get off however he wants — even it requires Nazi costumes. As I tell my houseboys before everything goes dark, sometimes it's better to pretend than do the real thing. It's a joke. I kill them.
That leads me to another question: What is the deal with Brits and Nazi costumes? First it was Prince Harry at Halloween, and now this — you'd think they'd realize those uniforms went out with the Holocaust. The truth is, that even though we won World War II, the Germans beat us on fetish costumes. And that victory still stings.
But my bigger question? Why do so many men, as they age, require intense and twisted games to get their jollies? I worry that one day it will take more than just seven Peruvian houseboys, a crane, a gallon of mint jelly and a blindfolded St. Bernard to satisfy me. I guess when you get what you want all your life, satisfaction cannot be defined. And you need more.
The only advice I have for young men growing up: Take it slow, avoid role-playing that relies on degradation and enjoy the simpler things in life. Like boot worship. Don't knock it until you've tried it!