tucker carlson is no more as a host of crossfire. crossfire is no more for cnn. lynda sent me a good article from the san francisco chronicle, http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2005/01/13/EDGKAAP9B61.DTL, by david hall.
but while tucker carlson is gone from cnn he's still on pbs. and he's about to start on msnbc. true goodness would be to see tucker carlson stripped from both shows.
lynda asked me what i think of him?
tucker with his shag hair done up like an overgrown leave it to beaver and with his little bow tie is a sexually repressed guy. i don't mean he's gay. i mean he's the kind of guy who really really wants the lady to take the lead but that's a thought in his head that he can't find a voice for.
tucker wants to liberated and in his mind all thoughts of liberation spell dominance. not him dominating anyone. if you've watched tucker argue and go into that sneering little boy tone you get the idea he's just begging to be knocked down a peg or two.
if a woman ever tapped her lap and said, "drop those pants and get your fanny over here" tucker would lurch forward, ass in the air as he attempted to pull those pants down and hop over her lap.
tucker's a naughty little boy missing mommy. you could call him a mother tucker lol. he wants his snotty little ass torn up and then he wants to be forced to the bed, hands held above his head and ridden while he whines like the little boy bitch he is.
lynda says tucker's married. if that's true, his wife needs to lower the boom and she'll quickly find that little boy tucker will go out of his way to come to mama.
there's this little smirk he gets on his face when he's going on about something he knows nothing about that's just begging for a woman to grab him by the ear, lead him to the bathroom and wash that naughty mouth out with soap.
if mrs. carlson does exist and she ever called me up, i'd tell her, "your little boy likes play acting at being a man and gets all hot and horny over the thought that someday someone will call him on it. blow his world and blow his mind by greeting him with a belt in hand and watch that cockiness fade quicker than a pair of stone washed jeans. all that will be left is his constant whine and a few whacks on his saucy rear end and he'll lost that too."
mrs. carlson would be doing the world a favor. tucker seeks 'liberation.' and in his fucked up right-wrong, black-white world that can only come from someone being in charge. tucker knows he's not smart enough or strong enough and he knows that body of his never hit puberty. in tucker's mind you either have power or you don't and he's been pretending to have power for years. each year he grows a little more bratty as he hopes he will finally be called on it.
grab the moppet by that tangled hair and tell him, "you're going to straighten up your act right now little boy" and watch him whimper in desire.
he's looking for a cokie roberts & steve relationship. for a woman to call all the shots so he can celebrate in his immaturity. the little mother tucker needs a mommy.
mrs. carlson should try it out. for 6 months i dated a guy. i was bored and he was someone my grandmother set me up with. "Just give him a chance, rebecca!" robert was a stock broker with the body of a little boy. like tucker, he was a 'soft boy.' he tried to act cocky and strut around like he was all that.
i promised my grandmother i'd give him three dates. by the second date, i'd had it with him as he went on and on about how wall street was america and we had to privatize social security because it would help wall street. i was in the middle of trying to point out that stocks drop, something he knew, and that people could lose the minimum standards they have now with any flucuation on the market when he piped off, "if they lose their money it's because they're stupid and only the strong survive."
we were on the beach having a picnic and my mouth just dropped as he started saying that "old people are fucking idiots who deserve to eat canned dog food if they can't manage their money" and for some reason, my silence said to him: "grope me." he leans in and grabs my tits and starts rubbing them with both hands. all the while he keeps looking at me with these pleading eyes. i slapped him across the face and while he rubbed his cheek, he looked like he was about to blow his wad.
his fumbling attempts at date rape stopped there and every other word was "please" and "sorry." i went home and wondered whether it was worth it to keep my word to my grandmother? i kept thinking about how he was acting like i would make out with him in public view on a beach not far from my house in an area i grew up in where any neighbor would see and then dial up someone in my family to ask them, "do you know what that Becky girl is doing?"
why did he act that way? in college, i had my share of frat boys fumbling attempts at seduction that bordered on attempted date rape. a knee to the groin, a jab to the eyes, any number of things would result in a simmering rage as the guy huffed, "you bitch, get the hell out of my car" or whatever.
robert had no rage, he was seeting with quiet lust and practically pleading with me. for what?
i called my girlfriends and they all said, "beat his ass."
he shows up at my place to pick me up for our third date. i had left a belt lying out on the coffee table. he couldn't take his eyes off it and i acted like it wasn't there.
"uh, what's the belt for?" he finally gulped.
"for your butt."
immediately, he bows his head and starts peaking over at me promising he will be good.
"strip!"
he looks over at me to see if i'm serious and when he sees that i am, he starts tearing off his clothes and kicking off his shoes.
standing before me in tented fruit of the looms and socks, a blush started at his face and spread down his neck. he hopped across my lap and i pulled those fruit of the looms down and went to town on his butt with the belt turning it a deeper shade of red than he had blushed. he was humping my leg like crazy and moaning.
we had some of the wildest sex i've ever had. during the 6 months, bobby (as he now asked to be called) quit his job as a stock broker and asked permission to do what he'd always wanted to: become a graphic artist.
after 6 months, i was bored. i wasn't unhappy, just bored. i mean if he had the body of antonio banderas, it might have been fun. but a grown man who acts like a little boy and looks like one too just doesn't do anything for me. taming a wild beast of passion like banderas might have been fun and kept me interested. but honestly with his sunken, hairless chest, i began to feel like we were bordering on child molestation.
he started dating a girl named tiffany who worked with him after i ended it.
one night, tiffany calls me up and says bobby gave her my number: "i'm sorry to bother you but i really love bobby and he loves me. but something's not working."
"are you spanking him?"
"what!" she said spitting out whatever she was drinking.
"is he there right now?" i asked.
"yes."
"i want you to look him in the eye and tell him to go to your closet and get a belt."
tiffany thought i was insane. after a little convincing, she said, "hold on. bobby, go to my closet right now and grab my thickest belt."
i could hear him over the phone wimper, "i'll be good."
i told her, "tell him to do it."
"do it!"
then she said to me, "my god, he's really doing it!"
yawning, i told her, "when he gets back, take the belt, tell him to strip down to his fruit of the looms, head to a corner and park himself there to think about the spanking he's about to get."
she did and he did much to her obvious (and vocal) surprise.
we talked for a little bit. then she hung up to take care of bobby and give him what he was too scared to ask for but knew he needed.
3 months later, i was invited to their wedding. it's been a year now and they're both happy. i saw them on the ferry last week and asked her how it was going.
"it's a never ending honeymooon. i just beat his ass every day and everything is perfect."
and bobby doesn't strut around barking out racist or sexist or ageist remarks anymore. he's the sweetest guy in the world because tiffany makes him be. for bobby, that was liberation. if tucker carlson has a wife, she should try it. she'd be doing us all a favor.
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