November 20th, 2008
Would a woman with three children give the go-ahead to build the Chevrolet Suburban? You must know that whenever you see a woman craning her neck to see over the steering wheel of a 6,000 pound excresence, she did not request it. She asked for a safe car, not an idiotic one. Nope, she was not the person shopping for a big, shiny penis — her husband was.
Possibly, she asked for a hybrid, not realizing that the Detroit men with the fat cigars built one she is certain to hate: the Cadillac Escalade Hybrid — 11 mpg city, 19 highway. That, and a shopping cart full of money, will get her and the kids halfway to Carl’s Jr. (“Nothing too good for my pussycat.”)
If you’re looking for a woman to run a car company, don’t bother with the ones who don’t have kids — they’re too busy trying to behave like men. You know, the guys who to take shit from nobody (except from everybody whose ass they really have to kiss). Jacking up that glass ceiling takes too many reps with free weights.
When I look at these inflated chief executives — the Detroit CEOs who each felt he had to fly separately to the nation’s capitol in his own company’s fancy jet, simply to ask for fucking taxpayer money — it makes me want to give them wedgies at the hook of a construction crane.
Again, I’m stereotyping, but most mothers would not behave like that. Nor would a house-husband. The CEOs of the past decade want only to babysit their perks. If the spouse who actually has to raise the kids did as piss-poor a job, the next generation wouldn’t survive to vote against the estate tax.
Fuck these guys. Bail the companies out, but put these whores in neckties out of work. And if they ever have to make the trip to Washington again, make them drive one of the bogus rattletraps they greenlighted. And force them to cut grass along the roadside to pay for gas.