I have been forced, much against my better judgement, to find out who Kim Kardashian is. The manager of the safari camp is to blame for showing me a newspaper article about her, in which she was quoted as saying that she’d like to be a man so she could have sex with herself:
“I just want to know what it would feel like,” she mused.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said to the manager. “If she were a man, the person she’d be having sex with would be someone else. You can’t be two people at the same time.”
The manager ignored my point of logic and said: “If she wants to know what it feels like to screw herself, she should stick her leg inside a stocking that’s three sizes too big. That should give her a pretty good idea.”
“Is that so?” I replied. “As a gorilla who used to wear pantaloons in the circus, I’m glad that that analogy never occurred to me.”
“That’s because you don’t have my imagination,” said the manager, before slinking off with a smirk on his face.
This exchange prompted me to do my own research on Miss Kardashian. The first thing I learned was that she’s one of those celebrities who shot to fame for reasons that were quickly forgotten. There is nothing in the documentary record to indicate that she practised a profession or performed notable deeds. Maybe her winning smile won her acclaim… or something. As for the manager’s coochie comparison, I couldn’t find anything definitive, but his conjecture was far from implausible. The bounciest trampoline will lose its spring if it’s jumped on too frequently.
Will Kim go down in history as the vacuous bimbo who said “OK” when people told her to go and fuck herself? She might yet avoid this ignoble fate by championing a worthy cause, such as the nipple rights of women in North Carolina. The state legislature in that benighted corner of the Confederacy is toying with the idea of making it a felony for women to expose the tips of their titties. This flagrant violation of the First Amendment is a devilish provocation, no less execrable than the attack on Fort Sumter.
What Kim should do is give the first lady a call and organise a million-nipple march right through the heart of the rebel state, in the manner of the late General Sherman. On second thoughts make that a two-million nipple march – let’s keep the numbers round. She could then make a name for herself by leading bare-breasted cavalry charges against recalcitrant rednecks determined to keep the nipple in bondage.
As a gesture of goodwill to their enslaved southern sisters, lactating ladies in the liberating army could suckle hungry babies on their route to the state capital. This is what Salma Hayek did on a recent visit to Africa and it made her more popular than Bono and Geldorf. (And almost as popular as Ermintrude the dairy cow.)
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