David Letterman has a penis after all.
I mean, I know that he has an offspring now, but so did Michael Jackson, Tom Cruise, and Matthew Broderick.
It’s pretty sad that when you get extorted you can never come out a clean winner. If you decide to go to the authorities, it ensures that your dark, terrible secret gets out. Personally, I would pay two million dollars to let people know that I’d been with a whole lot of my coworkers sexually, but it doesn’t appear that David Letterman is too happy about having to come forward and admit that he’s had some dalliances.
Even for people who love David Letterman, you have to acknowledge that he’s not a warm sexual presence. For just about every other talk show gig, you are almost required to ogle at the beauty of your guests, but Letterman barely seemed impressed when Drew Barrymore jumped on his desk and flashed her breasts his way. While the rest of the world was getting het up with sexual heat at Madonna dropping the F bomb at him like 20,000 times, Dave seemed more than a little peeved. David Letterman seemingly hated everyone, but no one quite so much as himself.
You will see more photos of George Clooney with his arm around a girl in the next 30 seconds than you will of the last 40 years of David Letterman’s similar output. It came out way after the fact that Letterman had dated one of his comedy writers, Merrill Markoe. When it came out that he was having a son with Regina Lasko, it was almost more shocking to think that he’d been with a woman for all this time without it registering on the social landscape. I still have no idea what Regina Lasko looks like, and their eventual marriage this past March has to seem more like a sign of submission after 23 years than the evidence of true eternal love.
After those two, the third woman most closely aligned to David Letterman in the public minds had to be Margaret Mary Roy, the schizophrenic chick who kept telling people that she was Mrs. David Letterman and would show up uninvited in his kitchen every six months or so. Everyone knew that Roy was crazy, because, of course, David Letterman would never get married.
While people absurdly ponder the sexual harassment implications (I have little doubt that nearly every woman co-worker has been throwing themselves at David Letterman for the past 30 years, and if anyone was using anyone in any of those relationships that it wasn’t Letterman), I’m merely reminded of the Chris Rock joke about Bill Clinton being a busy man and needing to have sex with the people that were closest in proximity to him at the time.
I can’t imagine that anyone in the world cares all that much about David Letterman’s sex life. Not during the Roman Polanski crisis, at least. You have to feel sad for the wife, especially if she didn’t know, but this will be forgotten as soon as Kate Gosselin has a nervous breakdown in two or three days and brings her children to a survivalist cult in north Utah. If Kate somehow manages to keep it together, surely Lamar Odom and Khloe Kardashian will be getting divorced in less than a week or two.
The area of this that interests me, however, is how mighty and powerful stars with more brain cells than Bret Michaels handle their good fortune. I’m talking about the guys who actually have the opportunity to sleep with just about every single woman that crosses their path. I’d like to believe that women are more into keeping it romantic and pure, but hey, I’ve seen Entourage. I know how the world works.