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Who the Hell You Calling Sugar Tits, Otis?

otis.jpg Though we are a legal blog that often focuses on celebrities, and though the biggest celebrity legal story in ages is all over the blogosphere, the tabloids, the six ‘o clock news, and the back of every cereal box in American by now — besides wondering why Mel Gibson would bite the Jew that feeds him — we’ve given the story short shrift.

But, yesterday, Mel Gibson issued his second apology in as many days, expressing self-disgust for the anti-Semitic tirade he went off on after his arrest, asking us to forgive him because, apparently, a few too many vodka-tonics makes it okay to hate Jewish people. In what sounded more like a last-ditch effort to save his unsalvageable career, Gibson made the following statement:

Please know from my heart that I am not an anti-Semite. I am not a bigot. Hatred of any kind goes against my faith. … There will be many in that (Jewish) community who will want nothing to do with me, and that would be understandable. But I pray that that door is not forever closed.

But, you know what’s kind of sad? Beyond the anti-Semitism, and beyond that fact that he was engaged in an activity (drunk driving) that is responsible for 18,000 deaths a year, no one seems to be focusing on something damn near just as offensive. I mean, c’mon: Mel Gibson called a female police officer “sugar tits.” Sugar tits?! Where the hell is the National Organization of Women on this? Or Equality Now? Or Bitch magazine? Seriously! A couple of years ago, the feminist fed Arnold Schwarzenegger to the goddamn wolves when he called Democrats “girlie men” during the Republican National Convention. But where are they today?

gibson23.jpgOh, I see. Apparently, if you drink enough, and deliver a profanity-laced tirade suggesting that an ethnic group is at fault for all the miseries of world, then you somehow get a free pass on the whole “sugar tits,” thing. So, for all you 18-wheeler drivers out there, keep that in mind next time your Waffle House waitress scolds you for calling her sugar tits and slapping her ass after she brings you your Folgers. And when she rears back her coffee pot and like she’s gonna slap the caked-on Mrs. Butterworths off your sugar lips, ask yourself this question? Is it better to have all six million Jews in the U.S. hate you for the rest of your life, or the ire of one angry working woman with a lethal weapon in her hand hate you for that one split second?

Your career? Or your life? I think we know which Mel Gibson chose.