How Perfectly Inelegant
This rake who imagines that women swoon over his very presence appears to have tasked the patience of just about everyone around him. One supposes that his assignations and periodic surrenders to his unassuageable lust renders him a victim of priapic primitivism. Most men, after all, who are normal and socially well adjusted, particularly those who offer themselves as symbols of political savvy, if not moral rectitude, are able to control their passions.
Finally, it seems that even Italians themselves have become heartily fed up with the man's bedroom antics. While he celebrates his uber-manhood, and waxes eloquent about how he merely serves women's interests - since it is simply too impolite to slight their demands upon his perfect, virile body, despite the ravages of age that assault other, less testosterone-blessed men than he - the tawdry tales being bandied about appear to be vexing the electorate.
It is nothing short of scandalous that an individual of questionable taste should take it upon himself to claim to have provided some three-dozen nubile and beautiful young women for Silvio Berlusconi's delectation. (The man is quite obviously a ruffian, a liar of the first order.) Some of whom, it would appear, were present at his soirees simply as lusciously-decorative symbols of feminine pulchritude, others who prettily offered additional services.
Denying Mr. Berlusconi's triumphant claims that he has no need to pay for sexual favours, the businessman, Gianpaolo Tarantini (the lovely sound of that name, the tongue caresses it!) insists each of the women's attendance cost him $1,500. Pleasure doesn't come cheap, as anyone should know, particularly pleasures of the socially, ethically illicit variety, but that's another squalid little story.
And look again; it is not merely female flesh that Mr. Tarantini so obligingly provided for Mr. Berlusconi's sublime pleasures (don't they use the word pimp in Italy?) but cocaine, as well. The drug of choice of the intellectual, the social elite, the wealthy. It is a sad reality of life that a little bit of titillation passes muster, but when a trifle becomes a tsunami of bad taste and distasteful decision-making, people are prone to passing judgement.
Evidently, this time, Mr. Berlusconi isn't getting a passing grade. People can sometimes be so tediously unreasonable!
Finally, it seems that even Italians themselves have become heartily fed up with the man's bedroom antics. While he celebrates his uber-manhood, and waxes eloquent about how he merely serves women's interests - since it is simply too impolite to slight their demands upon his perfect, virile body, despite the ravages of age that assault other, less testosterone-blessed men than he - the tawdry tales being bandied about appear to be vexing the electorate.
It is nothing short of scandalous that an individual of questionable taste should take it upon himself to claim to have provided some three-dozen nubile and beautiful young women for Silvio Berlusconi's delectation. (The man is quite obviously a ruffian, a liar of the first order.) Some of whom, it would appear, were present at his soirees simply as lusciously-decorative symbols of feminine pulchritude, others who prettily offered additional services.
Denying Mr. Berlusconi's triumphant claims that he has no need to pay for sexual favours, the businessman, Gianpaolo Tarantini (the lovely sound of that name, the tongue caresses it!) insists each of the women's attendance cost him $1,500. Pleasure doesn't come cheap, as anyone should know, particularly pleasures of the socially, ethically illicit variety, but that's another squalid little story.
And look again; it is not merely female flesh that Mr. Tarantini so obligingly provided for Mr. Berlusconi's sublime pleasures (don't they use the word pimp in Italy?) but cocaine, as well. The drug of choice of the intellectual, the social elite, the wealthy. It is a sad reality of life that a little bit of titillation passes muster, but when a trifle becomes a tsunami of bad taste and distasteful decision-making, people are prone to passing judgement.
Evidently, this time, Mr. Berlusconi isn't getting a passing grade. People can sometimes be so tediously unreasonable!
Labels: Life's Like That, Sexism, Society
posted by Pieface | 2:01 PM
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