Well, all GUYS anyway, and STEPHEN FREAKING HAWKING is driving the bus!!!
It's time we faced it men, our last cover has been blown. We are all hopeless, or maybe hopeFUL, horndogs right down to the world-famous British physicist Stephen Hawking. Of course women have known this all along. We were merely fooling ourselves by thinking that they bought into the myth of the sensitive new age male. If a seventy year-old brainiac confined to a wheelchair and bereft of almost all physical movement, a man long noted for spending his days contemplating the mysteries of the universe, can manage to become a "regular" at the Freedom Acres sex club in Devore, California, well...We are all just as nasty as our wives and girlfriends have suspected. Maybe even nastier.
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| "Hi, I'm Steve...welcome to HELL." |
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| Getting set up for a more advanced game of Charades at Freedom Acres |
The story of Swinger Steve's visits to Freedom Acres broke last week in the London Daily Mail and it includes pictures of the good professor talking and mingling with some of the ladies in the club's employ. Even Peter Stringfellow, Freedom Acres owner, is quoted: "I am often asked during interviews of all the people I have met, who I am most impressed with. Of all the film stars I have met, the majority are really nice people, rock stars are a lot of fun and good company, some of the richest men in the world can be surprisingly funny, but when all is said and done Professor Hawking is THE MAN." Mr. Stringfellow went on to say, "I remember asking him if he'd like to have a conversation with me about the universe, (No doubt a laugh riot for professor Hawking.-ed), or if he'd just like to watch the girls. The answer was quite simply, 'The girls."
Perhaps it is his gregariousness and interest in heavenly bodies that drives Stephen Hawking to frequent Mr. Stringfellow's establishment. More likely, he is just being a guy. We could ask his two ex-wives or just stand back and admire what a seventy year-old with severe physical limitations can accomplish. Maybe if he starts waking up with a live gopher in his bedroom and peanut butter on the ceiling it'll be time to S L O W down.
In the meantime, on that bus to hell, I call SHOTGUN!
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| Peter Stringfellow and "The Man" |
1 comment:
Geez, glad I wasn't drinking milk (or sucking down a container of Kozy Shack Tapioca Pudding), or it would have come shooting out of my nose when I read this. Good Lord, you sure can make a person laugh hard.
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