To judge a book by its cover, in the parlance of our times, is to make a broad judgment about someone or something based solely on appearance. You’re not supposed to do it. “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” say our moms, “don’t judge a book by its cover,” say ugly or weird-looking people.
Well, we at TRI have always found that the cover of a book is often pretty goddamned indicative of what’s inside. People are paid money to design covers that reflect a book’s content and appeal to its target audience.
Anyway, this new feature is basically going to consist of us looking at pictures of public figures, then making completely unfounded but probably-true statements about them.
First up, Rick Warren.
There’s been a whole lot of hubbub about Obama choosing this guy — the leader of a giant, lucrative evangelical congregation in Orange County — to lead the prayer at his inauguration. Everybody’s all pissed off because he’s reeeaaally conservative and super-opposed to same-sex marriage and such.
Now, we all know that high-powered anti-gay Christians usually turn out to be raging fags. Anybody who knows anything knows that. But we don’t think that’s the case here.
C’mon, look at the guy. He fucks prostitutes…females, that is. I mean, just look at him. This guy just looooves to fuck prostitutes.
I’m going to guess he fucks prostitutes twice, three times a week, on average. Look at his fat face. He just loves sticking his fat face in between fat, floppy hooker tits and then just motorboating, Bbbbbbrrrrrraaahhh!
Not only that — he fucks young girls! I mean young girls, like girls his daughter’s age. Take a look at that goatee. Wow dude, you must ride motorcycles or something. When his daughter’s friends come over, I guarantee you Rick Warren gives them a big hug, a big, inappropriately long and hard hug. Then when they leave the house later, they say “Goodbye Mr. Warren” and try to get the fuck out of there, but Mr. Warren’s had a couple of beers and he beats them to the door, then gives them a big long hug that he punctuates by brushing/grabbing their asses with his sleazy preacher hand.
Next up on Judging the Book By Its Cover, New York Congressman Charles Rangel.
Now, Rangel’s been in a little bit of hot water lately for allegedly…well, fuck, being a Congressman, basically. He evades taxes, he illegally uses his public position to raise private funds, he barely pays rent on his four NYC apartments, blah, blah, blah.
But look at this guy’s face. You’re going to tell me this guy doesn’t love cocaine? I mean, look at his face. Tell me that face has never been plunged into a giant pile of lobbyist-funded cocaine. I guarantee you it has. I guarantee you Chuck Rangel has buried his face into a huge pile of cocaine, Hoovered the shit up his nose, then jerked his head up toward the ceiling and screamed “NOBODY FUCKS WITH CHUCK!,” then looked around the room wild-eyed while licking the snow out of his moustache. Then, high as shit, he gets paranoid and starts threatening people, he grabs his driver by the collar and says, “You want to fuck with me? I will fucking bury you,” and the driver is like, “No! Jesus, Chuck, I’ve worked for you for 15 years, I’d never fuck with you man!” And Rangel finally says, “That’s right motherfucker,” lets go of the guy and sticks his face back into the huge pile of cocaine.
Also, I bet he gets wine-mouth. I bet when he’s at private parties he gets piss-drunk on red wine, and his teeth and mouth get all red. I mean, look at him. Tell me you can’t imagine that face, all googly-eyed and red-mouthed at some party. He probably totters on over to someone else’s wife, gets all up in her face with his red mouth and breathes out nasty propositions where the only intelligible word is “baby.” He’s just all leaning up on some guy’s wife, red-mouthing into her ear, “Jus gib be minna to, baby. Youn me, baby. I’ll fckn shw’da WORLD, baby.”
Once again, the preceding statements are all completely unfounded and probably true.
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