The Wife Whisperer

                                                                                     Kim Shansky and Art Shamsky

Hi, folks! This is Dorkley Pato for the National Geographic Channel.

Y’know, life is already tough enough. But when you got a nasty, crazy woman, that makes things even worse.

Not that there aren’t a lot of stoopid idiotic men around, but they’re easier to handle. Just take away their beer. As one guy told me, “Nothing is worse than no beer.” Generally speaking, if you take away a man’s beer for a couple of days he becomes mild as a pussycat.

If that doesn’t work, a good, sound punch in the face or a baseball bat upside his head will work wonders for a guy's attitude.

You can’t do this with women, however, because they are a protected species, like every other kind of wild animal. And they know they’re protected. That is why after an evening of insulting a man, smacking him, threatening to throw him out of the house and clean him out of all his money, their last words are invariably, “Don’t you dare! I’m going to call the cops on you!”

The cops! Who wants to get beat up and maybe shot by the cops, forced to sleep on the filthy concrete floor of a holding cell and dragged before a female judge while his old lady is in the courtroom moaning, “Look what he did to me!”

That is why men across America are turning to César Maricón, The Wife Whisperer, whose peaceful techniques for taming and pacifying crazy women have become renowned throughout the world.

We have César in the studio here tonight. César, to what do you owe your success in dealing with crazy women?

“Well, first of all women trust me because I’m totally gay, like a hairdresser. So since they know that I don’t want to immediately jump on them like a straight guy does, they are willing to listen to me. Second of all, I always get control of the situation, which women crave. Women need to know their place in the animal hierarchy, like wild hyenas in the African veldt.”

So now you are going to show us an example.

“Exactly. We are going to the New Your mansion of Turdley Wildenstein, one of the richest men in the world. But he still can’t control his woman.
“Here we are at the door. I’ll just ring the bell. Now we are in Turdley Wildenstein’s living room. Turdley, can you explain the problems you are having with your lovely wife, Lunesta?”

“She’s spending $20,000 a week on shopping for clothes and cosmetic surgery. She’s had her face lifted so many times that her mouth is up to her eyebrows.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah. And then she smacked the maid in the head with her cell phone, opening up the woman’s head for 46 stitches, and I had to settle out of court for $500 grand.
“I tried everything. I threatened to divorce her but that just made her worse. I tried to take her credit cards away, but she bit my hand so hard that I had to have a fingernail surgically removed.”

“Now, Turdley, did you try removing all the mirrors from the house?”

“Why, no!”

“So that’s what we’ll do. See, I took out all the mirrors from the house. Now she has nothing to see herself in. See how she’s running from room to room looking for a mirror? Now she’s getting tired, until she just slumps down on the floor from exhaustion and starts drinking from a bottle of vodka that she pulled from her handbag.
“Now, when she’s passed out on the floor, you can go in her wallet and take away her credit cards.”

“César, you’re a genius!”

“Next we’re going to JFK Airport, where a crazy woman has missed her plane because she was too busy shopping in the duty-free shop. See, she’s throwing a fit. She’s screaming, banging on the ticket counter, stamping her feet and throwing herself on the floor.
“The reason she’s doing this is because all her life she has learned she can get anything she wants by throwing insane fits of rage. Her father, her boyfriends, her husband have always given in to her fits, so now she thinks that if she stamps her feet and goes ballistic the airport authorities will make the pilot turn the plane around and come back for her.
“Now in a case like this, you have to take her space away from her. See, I’m moving up close to her and refusing to back off. Every time I move up, she backs away.
“Now I have her backed all the way back to a broom closet, away from the passenger area, where there’s no audience to watch her throw a fit. Now she’s totally exhausted and demoralized. I just slip a muzzle on her and the airport cops can move in and arrest her without having to taser her or shoot her.”

Another job well done.

“Now we are going to Gallagher’s Steak House in midtown, where the ex-wife of former baseball hero Art Shamsky, Kim Shamsky, is waiting for him to come out so she can assault him and scream at him. She claims he left her with AIDS, herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, bedbugs, crabs and cancer from sleeping with other men and then infecting her while they were married. She’s got a reporter from The New York Post and a video cameraman with her so they can blast the whole incident over the front page of tomorrow’s edition of The Post.
“Here comes Art Shamsky out the door of the restaurant. Let’s see what she does now.”

“You whoremongering faggot piece of garbage! You infected me with every disease known to man, you piece of garbage! I had to have my uterus removed because of you, you degenerate scumbag!”
“Are you getting this, boys?”

“Yeah, we’re getting the whole thing, Kim.”

“See how Art Shamsky’s running away from her with his tail between his legs? He’s on the defensive. He doesn’t know what to do. Kim Shamsky is the dominant dog. She’s dominating the whole situation.
“Now, look what I do. First I bribe the Post reporter with free tickets to the Knicks game. Then I hire a Korean hooker to push her tits into the face of the video cameraman and offer him free sex. See, they’re leaving.

“Now Kim Shamsky realizes that nobody is paying any attention to her screaming fit. To placate her I give her a rubber dog bone with a bell in it and a little squeaky mouse to play with, and she’s happy, playing with the little doggy toys. Meanwhile, Art Shamsky is able to jump in a taxi and get away.”

Well, that’s all for this week, folks. Tune in next week, when we’ll accompany César Maricón to Alaska and see how he prevents Governor Sarah Palin from cutting off her brother-in-law’s testicles with a butcher knife

This is Dorkley Pato for Nat Geo.

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Posted on 2/17/2009 ( Permanent Link )
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