Apparently after a lifetime of bullying, it still hadn’t set in - his last name was Weiner. Pronounced like the appendage rather than someone who didn’t get his way, New York politician Anthony Weiner might as well have grown up Anthony Penis, Tony Dong, or Antone Tallywhacker. Repeatedly being called a weiner day after day, even by your own parents, must take domineering spot in the shaping of a young boy’s life. Surely it is a cumbersome plight when your day-to-day boyhood dream is for a common mispronunciation of your last name and the resulting half-hearted chuckle at the realization you must be an annoying complainer by birthright. It’s hard enough already being a kid, a teenager, and an adult without being called Weiner. Imagine having one as well! How could we know the effects? How could we be prepared for the results? You see, for the entirety of his days, Anthony Weiner has been thinking with his penis. Whether with his big head or with his little one, it was always, still, a weiner. And it was perhaps therefore unavoidable, inevitable, or even Destiny* that brought Anthony Weiner into the political spotlight.
As a man he was cursed by the name; as a politician, Anthony Weiner was freed by it. In a world where scandals were a la carte menu items, he could do anything he wanted. His last name wasn’t Fraud, Embezzlement, or even AcceptingUnlawfulGiftsFromLobbyists. In political circles John McCain was known as a bit of a Maverick - Weiner could go Commando. So long as it wasn’t a sex scandal, Weiner would be golden. “Keep it in your pants, Weiner”, he would say to himself during private moments in office, unsure if he was advising himself in the third person or using the man-and-time-tested tradition of nicknaming his penis with his own name. Weiner could have made an off-color remark about the voting rights of color-blind citizens. “Well, he’s an absolute weiner” the people would scoff. He could have clubbed a baby seal in the cafeteria at the offices of PETA. “What a weiner!” citizens would cry. He even could have pushed a weinermobile filled with orphans and delicious meats into a lake, an elaborate and confusing scandal indeed. Anything other than a sex scandal - anything - and ole Weiner comes out smelling like… well, a weiner**. But despite the gift of freedom the once-constricting name had given him, Anthony Weiner just couldn’t help himself; Weiner’s weiner wanted out.
Through the ‘spheres the dick pics traveled: the blogospheres, the twitterspheres, and even the geographical hemispheres. People in Australia took a slightly longer moment to be appalled as the images downloaded upside down and were then corrected with a few keyboard strokes. And in a flash Weiner’s weiner was global and his political career not even allowed to be local. “Get this Weiner out of my face!” shouted Democratic party leaders and people in front of their computers, in unison. Anthony Weiner tucked himself between his legs and went home. Well he embarrassed his wife and then went home. We thought he’d learned his lesson. We thought that was the last of Weiner’s weiner.
And then he started sending photos of a Mexican wrestler’s weiner around the ‘spheres; he made his wife trot out behind him and stand there as he apologized again. Weiner was being a real dick. But had we asked too much of the man? He’d been troubled by a name that needed no help being made fun of and then set free by it to commit any political trespasses he saw fit; save of course for one, now-seen-by-everyone small thing. But he couldn’t do it. And then he couldn’t do it again. And that’s when we all learned that Anthony Weiner was a special kind of real weiner’s weiner.
*Sexting victim and exotic dancer Destiny Cristal was unavailable for comment on her role in the sexting scandal at the time of press.
**Hot dogs have an indisputably delicious smell. This author knows of at least two florists that refer to roses as the “grilled pork” of flowers.