The 1,001 Handjobs of Time Magazine's Time 100
If only I had the imagination enough to recreate the orgy of handjobs and fingerbangs that is the TIME 100, an annual circle jerk of famous people writing about other famous people! I'll try anyway.
The curtain rises and first up is body builder Arnold Schwarzenegger. He's all oiled up and wearing a tiny Speedo. Edward Kennedy is wheeled onto stage and immediately Ahnold kneels down and undoes Senator Kennedy's slacks. He blows him which is weird because Kennedy is a) old and b) his uncle-in-law. Then Harry Potter's mother JK Rowling rimjobs Gordon Brown who is simultaneously felching Barack Obama while Barack's wife, Michelle, looks on, contentedly as she is muff-dived by Oprah Winfrey, who is, in turn, gamahoochied, by Diane Sawyer. In a corner, Ted Turner and T. Boone Pickens are naked and sweaty. The Silver Daddies are fucking each other. Ted's on top but he's sucking off Pickens below him.
All of a sudden Bono and George Clooney come on stage. Bono drops trou and Clooney gets down on all fours. Bono is in a Nazi officer uniform and Clooney pretends to be Jewish. Then they puke in each other's mouths, bow and exit stage left. Up next is a swarthy threesome. It's Paul Krugman, Nouriel Roubini and Mark Zandi. Nouriel is in a KKK hood, Krugman has—offstage, I guess—smeared himself in shit, and Zandi, an economist, has very carefully made all his thigh hair ingrown, somehow. Anyway, so Krugman gets down on all fours, Roubini circles around his back while Krugman takes Zandi in his mouth. Then the hairy shit contagion shutters like a rickety train until they collapse in a puddle of santorum.
Then, out of nowhere, Sharon Stone appears on stage with a Nebuchanezzer of champagne up her doodle. In one hand is a harp and with the other, she's pleasuring Barbara Hogan, 57, South Africa's minister of Health. Hogan is waving an AIDS infected syringe around, just spraying the shit everywhere.
Then a voice rings out from the audience. It's a talent agent. "That's great," he says, "but what do you call your act?"
All the activity stops on stage and in unison they yell, "THE TIME 100!"