"I can understand how I confused people with the way I worded the joke and their taking offense is very understandable. To all those who took my joke as [a] modern day approach I deeply apologize and seek your forgiveness. My wife constantly tells me I need new material—she understood the joke but didn't like it anyway—so I will keep that old one in the past where it belongs. ... To those who applauded my comments and remembered the joke, thanks for your encouragement. To those who thought I was callously encouraging that as a prescription for today, I kindly ask your forgiveness."—Santorum surrogate Foster Friess, apologizing for his "aspirin between the knees" comment yesterday.
I remembered the joke, understood it to be a joke, and didn't assume Friess was making a serious "modern day" recommendation—and I don't believe that I'm alone. He's apologizing to a strawperson.
And, in doing so, he's intimating that we're too stupid to distinguish between a "callous" policy prescription and a misogynist joke.
Dude, we got that it was a fucking joke. The issue is not that we were mistaking it for a policy prescription; the issue is that your "joke" was representative of the attitude underlying the actual policy prescriptions of your contemptible candidate: That women should keep their legs shut, unless and until there's a good Christian husband ready to make babies who gives the Open Sesame.
Call me when you're willing to apologize for supporting that retrofuck idea of female sexuality.
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