What a shocker. A former South Dakota lawmaker accused of molesting his own foster children and legislative pages is a Republican.
Ted Klaudt, 49, a Republican rancher from Walker, faces a long list of charges: eight counts of rape, two counts of sexual exploitation of a minor, two counts of witness tampering, sexual contact with a person under 16, and stalking.
Court documents mention five possible victims. Three were foster children between the ages of 15 and 19 who lived with Klaudt’s family. One is a cousin of one of those girls, and the fifth is a friend of Klaudt’s daughter.
In the most disturbing accusation, the girls say Klaudt had them convinced they could earn up to $20,000 by donating their eggs to a fertility clinic. And even though he has no medical training, the girls say Klaudt did all the supposed “exams” and “procedures” himself.
…Five different girls now say Klaudt did things ranging from manual “breast exams” to the painful procedure of actually going inside of them with a speculum and collecting body fluids. The girls say when they cried, Klaudt gave them a beer and told them to toughen up.
His “examination tools” have been found at his home.
Via Tristero, who got it from Atrios, and who notes: “I think it may be fair to raise a more general question, whether an obsessive concern with regulating abortion and defining marriage has more than just a casual association with sexual perversion.” I think that may be fair, too. Because the evidence is kinda compelling…
Grand Old Perverts-a-Go-Go: Pedophiles, more pedophiles, yet more pedophiles, lots and lots of pedophiles, wife-rapers, mule-fuckers, falafel-creeps, closet cases, gay hookers, porn star escorts, Hookergate, dirty novelists.
Quite a moral values parade, that.
Also, Amanda with The Creepy Uncle Factor—which put me in mind of the time I was being honored (in high school) for some paper I wrote or some bullshit by a local men’s club. A community club, like the Elks or something, but not the Elks. (This is how much it meant to me that I can remember none of the details.)
In any case, I was eating a dinner in a room full of middle-aged men, and the entree was Beef Stroganoff. They were making “strokin’ off” jokes left and right, as if I didn’t get it. The president, who was seated directly beside me, said, “You know what I like with my strokin’ off? A little honey, aged 16 years.”
This was followed by a round of all the other things these men liked with their strokin’ off: cherries, chicken breasts, “a little lamb,” etc.
Finally, I said, “You know what I like with my strokin’ off?” They all looked at me; I kept my eyes on my plate. “Old pervs.”
No more jokes.