Monday, July 13, 2015


You gotta hand it to Bill Cosby. America's favorite funnyman really lucked out when he married Camille Olivia Hanks in 1964. Camille, you see, is the living definition of an understanding wife. For over a half century, she's been good with her husband being on the road for long stretches, playing nightclubs, appearing on TV, and having unlimited, drug-fueled sex with other women:

When not handling her husband's fortune,
Camille doubles as a Star Trek alien.
This is the kind of "I don't believe it" response that tobacco executives give to Congress when asked if smoking causes cancer. It's not like saying, "It isn't true," which would be considered by most people to be perjury. Rather, it's another version of, "I'm not derailing this gravy train." 

Camille Cosby, you see, is her husband's business manager. And she's not about to let her share of his $400-million net worth go the way of the Confederate flag. 

Early on, Cosby
realized drugs would
be less obvious.
Cosby's deposition was given in 2005 for an incident that happened a year earlier. The former Jell-O Pudding shill fought to keep it under wraps because, according to his mouthpiece, its revelations would prove to be "embarrassing." 

Cos must have a far different threshold of pride than me, because if word got out that I was a sociopath who drugged and raped women, I'd feel closer to suicidal. We must remember, though, that Cosby's point of view was probably created when he was a regular guest at the Playboy Mansion in the '70s -- a time when Hugh Hefner admitted referring to Quaaludes as "thigh-openers." To quote Fat Albert, "Hey, hey, hey!"

As with her husband, Camille has defenders: 

There's no mention if the good reverend's heart breaks for the dozens -- hundreds? thousands? -- of women whom Cosby drugged and raped during two different centuries. Nor does he explain just exactly what "sacrifices" Mrs. Cosby made. Pride? Self-respect? Small change compared to the almost half-a-billion smackers they're sitting on, amirite? 

But it's not like she doesn't have feelings:

Or as Deep Throat advised Woodward and Bernstein, "Follow the money."

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