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Ken Starr spent most of the 1990s as the independent counsel assigned to Bill Clinton's underpants. The Spice Girls are a more relevant phenomenon from that decade. However, Starr still likes to turn up on our TV and pretend he knows what he's talking about. He apparently believes his relentless war on blowjobs earned him the credibility to comment on Robert Mueller's investigation into real crimes.

Yesterday Starr told Fox's Stuart Varney that while House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has the "authority and power" to impeach Donald Trump, the little lady "better not use it." Why? Because impeachment is hella "divisive" and only something you do when there's "broad consensus." For example, there was broad consensus about Clinton's impeachment. Sixty-five percent of Americans thought it was stupid.

Starr's personal speciality is fellatio felonies, and the drawback there is that he seems incapable of recognizing other crimes, such as light treason. Last year, he didn't see how Mueller had any case at all against Trump.

STARR: At least as far as we know Donald Trump has not lied under oath, as far as we know, he's not intimidated witnesses, as far as we know -- in my view -- he has not obstructed justice.

LOL, right? In fairness, Mueller hadn't released his final report yet. You'd think Starr's opinion would shift once he actually read Mueller's findings and realized that Trump is far worse than his own personal white blow-job-receiving whale. But no, Starr turned up on yet another Fox hackfest and complained that Mueller's report is just too damn long.


BILL HEMMER: You say your main point is this, the Mueller Report is wildly, gratuitously detailed.

STARR: There's just too much detail. Take one little segment, the meeting of the Russian ambassador with then Sen. Jeff Sessions during the campaign. The whole issue is, is there collusion? Well, in about a page and a half we learn everything about that meeting. It starts out with there is no suggestion of collusion, whatever.

Conversely, the whole issue with the Starr Report should've been "did they fuck?" Oh, our bad. The actual issue was "did Bill Clinton fraudulently benefit from his money-losing investment in the Whitewater Development Corporation?" Instead, Starr subjected America to 445 pages of salacious dreck in the style of E.L. James. This is from the actual table of contents.

Blow jobs happenedThe Starr Report

There are literally separate entries for the couple's break-up and then the "backslide." There's always a backslide if the sex was good enough. You sometimes have to split up at least twice for it to stick.

STARR: [There's no suggestion of collusion] and yet we read all of this detail, elaborate footnotes. There's some 17 footnotes. There are over 1,000 footnotes. I mean, why?

He sounds like us when we had to read Ulysses in college. We're talking about a report on the president's possible collusion with a hostile foreign power. Yet Starr is trying to spin it as some self-indulgent, masturbatory exercise. He wants us to believe Mueller is the Judd Apatow of special prosecutors.

STARR: The point of this report is simply to say why I prosecuted or why I didn't prosecute. This is not a term paper.

It's probably a good thing the Mueller Report isn't a "term paper." Ours were usually just four pages double-spaced and printed in 18-point Times New Roman. Has "too much detail" ever been a criticism of a student's term paper? Also, most professors will give your term paper an "F" if it reads like the Starr Report, even if the class is Softcore Porn 101.

Sweet ChristThe Starr Report

Starr did sort of admit that his own report was so "highly detailed" and melted our brains so fully that no one really wants that anymore. Future special prosecutors should just get to the blowjobs already. We miss the romance of the '90s.

[Media Matters/ WaPo]

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Stephen Robinson

Stephen Robinson is a writer and social kibbitzer based in Seattle. However, he's more reliable for food and drink recommendations in Portland, where he spends a lot of time for theatre work. His co-adaptation of "Jitterbug Perfume" by Tom Robbins is playing NOW at Pioneer Square's Cafe Nordo. All Wonketters welcome.

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Last week, Yr Dok Zoom talked a little bit about his damn dissertation, which looked at "Wabbit Literacy," the weird thing where we sometimes learn about the world from parodies and jokes long before we ever encounter the original stuff -- like learning about opera from cartoons. More than one person in the comments (which Wonkette does not allow and yet, like life, you find a way) mentioned they were disappointed, as kids, to learn that while roadrunners are real birds, the actual critter looks nothing like this:

Which is not to say that real roadrunners are the least bit disappointing, as animals go, because they're freaking incredible. Yes, even if they don't actually leave lines of flame down the center line of desert highways and go "Meep! Meep!" But they can sprint up to 20 miles per hour, which is faster than you, albeit slower than a real coyote's top speed. Also, yes, real coyotes are among the predators what eat roadrunners, which is why the wily birds adopted the evolutionary strategy of running right through fake tunnels coyotes paint on the sides of mountains.

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Once upon a time... about ten years ago, a group of entirely ridiculous men burst onto the scene wearing stupid hats and telling men that wearing stupid hats and telling men that walking up to women in bars and insulting ("negging") them would get them laid. This did not last long, as women also had televisions and computers and were completely aware of these tricks as well, so when some ass came up to us in a bar and said "Hey, nice nails, are they real?" we would laugh and laugh and loudly announce "Oh my god, this guy just tried to neg me! Can you believe that shit? HEY EVERYONE, THIS GUY JUST TRIED TO NEG ME!" and then refer to him as "Mystery" the whole night.

Most of the men who tried that shit only did so a few times before realizing that it wasn't going to work, and thus moved on to other things. Perhaps things that did not involve furry hats and coming off as a huge creep. We may never know, because I would assume that those who tried it are now extremely embarrassed and would never, ever admit to this to us.

Still, there were a few men willing to eat that shit up, as well as some grifters willing to take advantage of that. Said grifters tended to be extremely misogynistic and seemed more like they were teaching men how to be as despised by women as they were than teaching them how to actually be liked by women.

Some of them, like Roosh V, a creepy weirdo who actually does live in his mom's basement, actively encouraged men to rape women who were intoxicated to the point of being obviously unable to consent.

However, even that branch of the PUA tree is wilting away. Many "self-help" style PUA forums like Nextasf and RSDnation are shutting down or have already shut down. In March, Chateau Heartiste, a batshit crazy PUA turned White Nationalist/Alt-Right blog was shut down by Wordpress. This week, rape advocate Roosh V (whom you may recall once called yours truly a "Wonkette typist/clown face, would not bang") announced that he was renouncing his PUA ways and devoting himself to Jesus. He explained to the forum he manages that he would no longer be allowing anyone to discuss premarital "fornication."

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