Andrew Dice Cuomo
I about spit my coffee out this morning when I saw the title of Derek Hunter’s latest column at Townhall: “The Rise and Fall of Andrew Dice Cuomo.”
How fitting.
Naturally I felt the need to do a Photoshop to commemorate it.
You remember Andrew Dice Clay from the eighties, right?
He’s the smoking, drinking, leather-clad comedian known as “the macho bozo from Jersey” whose vulgar comedy material was so far from PC, any third wave feminist of today would recoil from him like Dracula from a cross. As it is, the second wave feminists of the eighties didn’t particularly like his style.
What better moniker for the macho bozo from Queens than Andrew Dice Cuomo?
The vulgar, boorish life of Andrew Dice Cuomo has got to be the worst-kept secret in New York State.
And any intellectually honest New Yorker would admit that the cascading accusations of sexual harassment are about as surprising and unexpected as a morning sunrise.
Back in mid-December when Lindsey Boylan first admitted Cuomo sexually harassed her, I shook my head and said, “Of course he did.”
Cuomo is an arrogant dirt-bag and a pig. This is not a galloping surprise to anyone in this state. Nor is it at all surprising that Andrew Dice Cuomo got a pass for his piggishness for decades. But that’s one of the benefits of your Daddy being Governor.
As Hunter puts it in his column:
No one suddenly, in their sixth decade, decides to give using their position of power to obtain sex a try; no one respectful of women their whole life gives blunt propositioning of subordinates young enough to be the child of their child a shot. No, Andrew Cuomo is who Andrew Cuomo has always been, who the media knew he was but ignored it. He was never Andrew Jackson, he was Andrew “Dice” Clay.
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