The Assassination of Joe the Plumber By the Fickleness of Fame
It was a good ride.
Aimless doofus with few prospects living a desultory and thankfully unexamined life stumbles into the limelight, hooks up with idol only to discover said idol has feet of clay, doesn’t like what he sees, and then watches it all fall apart.
Joe the Plumber (no longer a plumber; first name actually Samuel) popped into our town yesterday evening to sell his new book and to remind people that he’s still a plain and simple guy. Mission accomplished, on at least one of his missions.
About 11 people wandered into the rows of seats set up hopefully in the basement of a downtown Border’s bookstore to hear Joe speak. Joe addressed them from behind a lectern and with a microphone, but that seemed unnecessarily formal.
Wurzelbacher was scheduled to speak and sign books for three hours, but the Joe Show was over in 55 minutes. Total copies of "Joe the Plumber" sold: five.
Things didn’t go much better at the CPAC Loserpalooza:
Joe-the-Plumber spoke to 1/4 full room. It was pathetic. I got video of how fucking empty the room was. I tried to make an echo off the walls but I got yelled at. Video to come.
It gets worse. Overexposure killed the future plumbing empire star:
He wore a gray long-sleeve undershirt and baggy jeans, and looked as if he just walked in from a construction site. Joe says he plans to work in construction (hello, stimulus package!) once his gig doing commentary for a conservative Web site runs out at the end of March. Plumbing? Not happening. "I show up on a plumbing job and the first thing someone’s going to say is ‘Joe the Plumber didn’t do the job right,’ " he said. "The next thing you know, it’s on the national news. It would be naive to go back to it."
Well, you know what they say down at the construction sites: "Sic transit gloria— check out the tits on that one! Ahooo baby! Shake it, don’t break it! I gotcher lunch right here, mama! Yeah, you know you want it!— mundi, dude."