Pardon Me, I'm Leaking

DISCLAIMER: Yes, it's the inevitable, contractually-obligated, groan-inducing Wikileaks post. However, like that affable, charming, blue-eyed criminal who banged untold amounts of sweet celebrity beav used to say, I'm going to do it "my way."

Unless you've been living inside your own bumslit for the past week or so, you've undoubtedly heard about the Wikileaks scandal. Why, even The Today Show devoted four whole minutes to it yesterday (and poor Meredith looked absolutely hammered-- even my wife said so) so you know it's a pretty B. F. D.

The story has taken on rather a life of its own. It's interesting to read and listen to the different media perspectives, some of whom chastise this Private First Class d-bag (who is never going to masturbate to respectable porn ever again) for compromising national security, and then they go and release all of this formerly confidential information to the rest of us, calling it news, and calling themselves responsible.

The thing I find funny about this is that *gasp!* people say nasty things about other people when they think nobody else is listening!

Now, ain't that some shit?

That Turkish guy is "excessively dangerous." That Afghan guy is "paranoid." That dude from Zimbabwe is a "thundering dickhole." Okay, that last one nobody said-- at least not in a "cable."

And what the hell is a "cable" anyway? We're not really still communicating that way, are we? I keep picturing Hillary Clinton getting subversive little typewritten missives on thin, yellowed paper courtesy of some bicycle courier with slicked-back hair and a cap worn at a jaunty angle.

"Vladimir Putin. Stop. Is gay. Stop. He dresses in Bea Arthur's old clothes. Stop. Send reinforcements and girdles. Full stop."

I have to say I'm more than a little disappointed in the world for feigning such surprise that people talk shit about each other. We're all such snide, pathetic, sniveling little gossip-mongers, we can hardly wait until Person X leaves the room before we start bashing them to Persons E, F, and G. I mean, um, I do it. So, uh-- you must, too.

Right?

I don't know, kids-- I could spend hours discussing the geopolitical implications of this latest scandal, but that would probably just bore the shit out of me. And, speaking of shit, I really have to say something that will absolutely stamp and seal any of your percolating notions that I am twelve years old, and that statement is that, every time I hear the term "Wikileaks," I cannot help but think about Olestra, the fat substitute that Procter and Gamble tried to hawk on us unsuspecting Americans in the late 1990s-- the one put into potato chips and other savory snacks that almost entirely eliminated the products' fat content, but provided many Americans with,

say it with me now...

Anal. Leakage.

Remember that, darlings?

The condition is scientifically/medically referred to as "steatorrhea" and, as if reading this blog normally wasn't disgusting enough, here's the full-on definition from Wikipedia:

"the presence of excess fat in feces. Stools may also float due to excess lipid, have an oily appearance and be especially foul-smelling.[citation needed] An oily anal leakage or some level of fecal incontinence may occur. There is increased fat excretion, which can be measured by determining the fecal fat level. Definitions of how much fecal fat constitutes steatorrhea have not been standardized."

I like how a citation is needed in order to support/verify the adjective "foul-smelling," like some independent research entity is going to devote money and research to write a scholarly article about how 450 out of 472 research test subjects whose noses were within a 1-2 inch proximity of a leaky anus proclaimed the odor to be "foul-smelling."

I also appreciate the humor in the fact that the amounts of fat in poodie-doot that would "constitute steatorrhea have not been standardized." Maybe that's something we should be concerned with standardizing-- I don't know. Just as long as it isn't done in fucking metric.

I suppose I could be legitimately accused of minimizing the importance of the Wikileaks story by relating it to the Olestra-related anal leakage scare of the late '90s, but, hey-- that story was a pretty B. F. D. in its day, and Procter & Gamble basically gave up trying to push that schmenk on us (only Lay's Light Potato Chips still exist, with Olestra as an ingredient, and I can't imagine that anybody buys them, except for Pervy Irvs who like to feel like there's eels trying to slither out of their assholes) but I seriously doubt that diplomats are going to stop talking shit on each other just because some dickfor felt it necessary to expose a little international gossip to the rest of us who knew it was going on anyway.

When you mix up all the ingredients, give them a shake, and let them bake, it's all just fecal fat.