LIFE CAN BE PRETTY STUPID
Of course Christie Brinkley tearfully confided all of this to me while I was in Montauk last week, but now that it's all over the news I feel free to comment. Here, according to the New York Daily News, is how her husband was spending his time and his money:
Now, for one thing, I'd just like to advocate the abolition of the coy mincing term "pleasured himself" and all of its cognates and tenses. Would it destroy the 21st-Century sense of public virtue to say that husband Peter Cook was jerking off, choking the chicken, spanking the monkey, beating the meat, pulling the pole, roughing up the suspect, burping the worm, making a map of Hawaii? No, it wouldn't.
The main thing, though, is this. Peter Cook (a Harlequin Romance name, and he's an architect, too) is married to one of the world's notable pieces of ass. Christie Brinkley may be 54, but when she goes shopping in East Hampton she has to put on an ugly mask. Otherwise guys go flying through the air and fasten their teeth in her ass and she has to walk down Main Street dragging five or six of the dudes behind her like a string of largemouth bass, if you can imagine a string of largemouth bass writhing and sobbing and whimpering and weeping and begging and pleading. She tells me this has always happened to her and that it is very annoying.
And was being married to this spectacular Queen of the South Fork enough for Peter Cook? Noooooooooooooooooooo. Not only is he locked up with his computer, ignoring the very ass that has that very day caused such perturbation on Main Street, not only is he making his map of Hawaii with 19yoslut2, he is calling some 18-year-old bimbo on the phone and fucking her in real life.
My heart goes out to Christie. She needs a shoulder to cry on. Who wouldn't, being married to a guy like that? My wife has a conference in Bolivia or someplace at the end of this month, so it will be a good time for me to drive out there.
Humiliating details also emerged about how Cook pleasured himself in front of a web cam for broadcast on an adult swinger website, where he was a gold club member. He spent up to $3,000 a month on Internet sex sites, sent e-mails to "19yo slut2" and used logons such as "wannaseeall" and "happyladdie2002."
Now, for one thing, I'd just like to advocate the abolition of the coy mincing term "pleasured himself" and all of its cognates and tenses. Would it destroy the 21st-Century sense of public virtue to say that husband Peter Cook was jerking off, choking the chicken, spanking the monkey, beating the meat, pulling the pole, roughing up the suspect, burping the worm, making a map of Hawaii? No, it wouldn't.
The main thing, though, is this. Peter Cook (a Harlequin Romance name, and he's an architect, too) is married to one of the world's notable pieces of ass. Christie Brinkley may be 54, but when she goes shopping in East Hampton she has to put on an ugly mask. Otherwise guys go flying through the air and fasten their teeth in her ass and she has to walk down Main Street dragging five or six of the dudes behind her like a string of largemouth bass, if you can imagine a string of largemouth bass writhing and sobbing and whimpering and weeping and begging and pleading. She tells me this has always happened to her and that it is very annoying.
And was being married to this spectacular Queen of the South Fork enough for Peter Cook? Noooooooooooooooooooo. Not only is he locked up with his computer, ignoring the very ass that has that very day caused such perturbation on Main Street, not only is he making his map of Hawaii with 19yoslut2, he is calling some 18-year-old bimbo on the phone and fucking her in real life.
My heart goes out to Christie. She needs a shoulder to cry on. Who wouldn't, being married to a guy like that? My wife has a conference in Bolivia or someplace at the end of this month, so it will be a good time for me to drive out there.
posted by archer at 7:08 AM
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