Thursday, September 11

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Weather Guy #1 Club Gold

Unfortunately, none of these tang-acquisition methods are classy and/or world-class enough for Gov. Eliot Spitzer, DD-New York, with two Ds for a double dose of this pimping. In the most shocking scandal since the 2004 release of Raffi’s “1-900-BANANAPHONE” sex tape, Spitzer confessed this week to a shameful attempt “to have hos in more areas codes than Ludacris” and “neglecting important work in a struggle to match Luda ho-for-ho in the two-oh-six, the three-one-fo’, even the fo’-oh-sev.” Spitzer later apologized to “the people of New York, this super-pissed-off woman to my right and the ladies of the fo’-oh-two in east-central Nebraska.”

Mistake one: He paid thousands of dollars for sex with “Kristen,” a woman who unironically uses the word “boo” on MySpace. This is never ok, unless you’re referring to “The ’Bu”, in which case it is totally awesome. Besides, if he wanted to hook up with a Jersey girl, all he really needed to do was slather himself generously with Axe Body Spray, drive to Paramus and rustle a bag of Funyuns. Mistake two: Spitzer eschewed Weather Guy’s Own Platinum Escorts VVIP in favor of Emperor’s Club VIP, which is widely known in the pimp game as the not exactly to my Hertz #1 Club Gold (which is also a prostitution ring). While J.D. Power and Associates once named our “model introduction services” Best in Initial Classiness, thanks to extensive FBI wiretapping from now on I’m only pimping Sweet Lady Weather. But on the plus side, I’m tricking her out all over this campus.

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Which is not to say you won’t pay. You will. And unlike the Federal Reserve, I won’t accept $200 billion in worthless mortgage-backed securities as collateral. Under a diamond-based forecasting methodology freely adapted from the prestigious AAA Guide to Harlots, your time with the weather will now cost you from 1,000 Weather Guy Fun Bucks an hour of cold drizzle up to 5,500 Fun Bucks for a single ray of golden sunlight illuminating you and only you. Pricing rubric below:

One diamond: Stagnant, humid airmass smells faintly of Axe and desperation.

Two diamonds: Scattered showers, clearing late. Classy, though not transcendently so.

Three diamonds: Mostly cloudy with a slight chance of sophistication.

Four diamonds: Rain changing overnight to snow. Delectable but not vivacious.

Five diamonds: The warmth of the late morning sun in May. Exceptionally vivacious, but not delectable.

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Six diamonds: The sudden violence of a summer thunderstorm. Exquisitely rejuvenating, refreshingly invigorating, packed with alpha hydroxy.

Seven diamonds: The crisp coolness of late October twilights. Uncompromisingly sumptuous, sinfully decadent, dangerously cheesy.

And now, for my final thought: “Client-9” would be an excellent name for a rock band.

 

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