Scooter Van Neuter

Weinstein Scandal Hits Home

 

For the last week, I've been trying to figure out what the hell's wrong with my girlfriend Sissy, culminating in this blowup last night during dinner:

Sissy: Why haven't you asked me what's wrong?

Me: What?

Sissy: I've been so upset this week. Why can't you see I'm not myself?

Me: Maybe it's because you still look like yourself, only fatter.

Sissy: You're an asshole.

Me: Maybe, but at least I'm still myself.

Sissy: I hate you.

Me: *Sigh* What's wrong?

Sissy: Harvey Weinstein.

Me: No argument there. 

Sissy: No, Harvey sexually assaulted me, Scooter.

Me: Was it within the last six years?

Sissy: (sobbing) Yes.

Me: Wow, that's too bad. I'll be back later.

Sissy: Where are you going?

Me: Cadillac dealership. 

Sissy: What about me? 

Later, I gathered the sordid details of the incident for our legal team. According to Sissy, during my acting career (here here here) a few years ago we were at a lavish Hollywood party where Weinstein allegedly forced himself upon her. 

Apparently, in a dark hallway at the rear of the restaurant where the party was being held, Weinstein pressed against Sissy, rubbing her breastesses and grinding his sweaty crotch into hers. She said she tried to resist, repeatedly saying "no means no," but he just kept rubbing her, saying 'sorry.'

After the act, Sissy said she was left in the hallway feeling dirty and used. After smoking a cigarette, she rejoined our group but kept the secret fearing Weinstein could use his power to destroy my acting career. She had been suffering in silence until allegations of his sexual improprieties hit the headlines this week.

I was absolutely stunned. Who would have figured that not one dealership in Scottsdale would have in stock a white CTS-V with black wheels and carbon fiber trim? I felt like both Sissy and I were hitting an emotional bottom. Then, things went from bad to worse.

After reviewing a security camera video from the restaurant in question, my legal team concluded that the hallway leading to the restrooms was barely wide enough for one person. When Sissy and Weinstein tried to pass each other, they apparently got wedged between the walls for a moment. The video shows Weinstein apologizing as a clearly intoxicated Sissy appears to grab his buttocks and rub herself against him until he was able to free himself and flee. 

Sexual abuse is an ugly thing, and when it hits this close to home it affects everyone. The sexual trauma Sissy endured has rendered her unable to have relations with me. As for me, I can't look at my girlfriend without seeing her getting all up in Harvey Weinstein's business and every time I see a new CTS-V drive by, I uncontrollably weep. These scars run deep - I pray time will heal us both.

 

Sissy parties with movie executive Weinstein and friends (API)

 

Not In My House

As a patriotic American, when I see somebody disrespecting our National Anthem or flag, I see red. For the first time in my life, I've stopped watching NFL football because I simply cannot tolerate watching a bunch of illiterate, clueless millionaire thugs kneeling during the Anthem. 

That being said, imagine my horror when my own girlfriend, Sissy, took a knee during the traditional playing of the National Anthem on our date night!

Listening to Mariah Carey's soaring Superbowl XXXVI rendition of the Anthem at the start of date night is something I instituted nearly 15 years ago as a way to honor our country before what Sissy affectionately refers to as "the Wienerbowl." It was her idea to combine this with a tiny flag-raising ceremony - the sight of which never fails to make me misty-eyed. We even force our cat, Mr. Jangles, to stand at attention during this solemn observance, as we take our nation seriously.

Anyway, after a wonderful evening of pizza, hot wings, and a very good box of wine last Saturday night, Sissy and I adjourned to the bedroom. I put on Mariah and stood with my hand over my heart, as Sissy knelt and raised the little flag. As Mariah warbled, I waited for Sissy to get up, finally yanking on her hair while casting an angry stink eye in her direction, to no avail - Sissy was taking a knee in defiance of everything I hold sacred(!) Not surprisingly, the flagpole collapsed, sending the symbol of freedom fluttering to the floor where Mr. Jangles grabbed it with his dirty little mouth and ran from the room. My anguished curses filled the air, making complete what may have been one of the worst dishonorings of America in modern history. I ran from the room with tears in my eyes, nearly tripping over the filthy commie whore I used to call my girlfriend.

The argument that followed left both of us emotionally and psychologically scarred. Sissy's reason for kneeling during the Anthem seemed to revolve around one or more of the following: (a) Police shooting all the black people (Sissy is part black - here, here, here), (b) Donald Trump, (c) Climate change, (d) Melania's shoes, (e) White nationalists, (f) Transgenders in the military, (g) Dreamers, (h) My personal hygiene. My response was to ban Sissy from the bedroom until she apologized to the US Armed Forces, veterans, President Trump, and me. Her feigning relief and happiness only pissed me off more, so I packed a bag and Mr. Jangles and I spent the night at the Red Roof Inn. 

To say that Sissy's rampant anti-Americanism nearly destroyed our relationship would be an understatement. I will not be a party to the disrespecting of the flag, no matter how tiny, in my own home. The compromise we finally struck was to allow Sissy to observe the Anthem in her own scummy, commie way without offending Mr. Jangle and myself's patriotic sensitivities. This involves me covering Sissy with a heavy tarp during the Anthem and turning off the lights. I won't kid you, just knowing Sissy is sh*tting all over our country under that tarp still angers me to no end, and the resulting distraction makes it all but impossible to perform any kind of flag ceremony, especially by myself. 

Mark my words - the second I find a hot new girlfriend, Sissy is out of here.