WTF is going on? Just when we thought COVID — upon tiptoeing across that unthinkable milestone of one million deaths in the U.S. alone — was finally receding into yesterday’s snow, suddenly, Putin invades Ukraine with the berserk allegation that he’s saving it from “Nazis”?
Thus, welcome to 2022’s March equinox revival, folks, of Springtime for Hitler as we gather watching, aghast, at batshit Vladimir dragging the whole damned world down into his delusional snake pit of paranoia. Who knew our global world order could actually descend further? Mel Brooks, himself, couldn’t satire such phantasmagorical puffery better: “They can’t say ‘no’ to his demands/They’re freaking out in foreign lands/He’s got the whole world in his hands.”
We’re saturated in psychosis here, kids with the very real fear now of nuclear conflagration!
I’m reminded of the infamous film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, as we quaintly try sanctioning Russia out of business. Yeah, that one’s gonna fly, Joe. Just seize all the oligarchs’ super yachts, and everything will return to normal again. Don’t look up! Meanwhile, as one cuckoo flew over the rest, suddenly custom-made fallout shelters are booming business again here in the west.
Thankfully, Dallas’s Reverchon Park rec center, located just across the street from my building, boasts a fallout shelter — according, at least, to the faded signage on its walls. I could probably haul ass there, on foot, in under three minutes, flat, but only if I choose to leave behind my two cats, Roo and Miss Pineapple.
Are these, truly, the end days we’re living through? Or do the powers that be simply need a good roll in the hay? Maybe all Putin wants is just to get laid? All those ill-gotten gains, and his face still exudes the sour pucker of a czar whose pecker is coated in cobwebs. Won’t somebody just fuck this sex-starved, loose Russian cannon, please — and quickly!
Anybody? Is there not a dating app for James Bond villains?
Regardless, before it’s too very late, and with these following top five most ridiculously useless, painstakingly pointless dating app questions in mind, let’s just get right to it, shall we? Pay close attention, Vlad:
What do you do for fun?
This one, bois and gurlz, gets me just every time. As if anybody’s gonna be honest about what he does “for fun.” Ha! “Oh, well, I’m a simple person, really. I love to just read a good novel, walk in the park and curl up with my labradoodle and a carton of my favorite cookie dough ice cream on a lazy Sunday afternoon.” Truth be told, what one does for “fun” is the very same thing every man on planet Earth does for fun whenever he’s granted a spare moment to himself. So, guys, stuff your erection back into your britches, and let’s preserve the “fun” schpeel for ensuring you not be disinherited during Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house.
What qualities do you like in a man/woman?
Here we have the gold-standard of emptily meaningless dating questions. People practically race through this one by cheat-sheet rote, for their answers never vary: “The most important qualities to me are a fun sense of humor, honesty, moral integrity, sincerity, good family values, faithfulness, blah, blah, blah” — all of it totally immaterial toward anything long-term serious. After all, biologically, monogamy is impossible to maintain, as can be explained by what is known simply as the Coolidge Effect, the zoological phenomena of noting a progressive decline in male propensity to mate with the same partner upon the presentation of a novel sexual partner (a new piece of ass). The Coolidge Effect derives its name from a 1955 psychology conference, which attributed the neologism to an old joke about Calvin Coolidge when he was president. President Coolidge and his wife were being shown separately around an experimental government farm. In the chicken yard, Mrs. Coolidge noticed the frenzied frequency in which the rooster was mating and asked how often that happened. “Dozens of times each day,” she was told. She responded, “Do tell that to the president when he comes by.” When told, Coolidge asked, “Same hen every time?” When they answered it was a different hen every time,” he quipped, “Do tell that to Mrs. Coolidge.”
What kind of drugs have you ever tried in your life?
“Well, I used to experiment a little back in my college days, but nothing heavy, you know.” Uh huh. Yes, my precious. This one only flies with somebody born, literally, yesterday. So, just spare your breath, Tina. You’ll need it for blowing clouds. What’s the point of good lungs if you can’t use them to rot your teeth out?
What is your biggest dream in life?
“World peace, and a chicken in every pot!” Wait, no, that was Gandhi and Harding? Oh, I know — how ‘bout hitting the Texas Lotto and snagging a nifty cool mil or two? Or, better yet, why not settle closer to reality and just pray that the DQ raises its minimum wage to 15 an hour. Or, just read a book, maybe? That’s sure a lofty one! Right? Dream on, girlfriend!
What’s your craziest sexual experience?
Uhm, what time is it? No matter however one answers this, it’s never gonna be truthful. Grandma might read it, remember?
So, sing it, Mel! And hit it, Vlad! Give us your goosestepping, autocratic all: “It ain’t no myst’ry/If it’s politics or hist’ry/The thing you gotta know is/Ev’rything is show biz!”
There you go, Putesy-wootsy! Here’s to you launching a master-blaster tonight! Enjoy a Molotov cocktail, on me! For the love of god, won’t somebody, please, for the sake of all our humanity, just fuck this man?
— Howard Lewis Russell
Have any nuclear-troubling questions destroying your souls this spring, my little leprechauns? Send them to Howard at AskHoward@dallasvoice.com, and he may just answer them from his bunker.