Ted Cruz Won’t Say Whether He’d Blow a Man to End Global Hunger

An absolute legend of a Yale student named Evan asked Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) and conservative political commentator Michael Knowles on Monday if they would blow a man to end world hunger. An excellent question, Evan!

“Assuming it would end global hunger, would you fellate another man?” the young hero inquired.

Knowles said “absolutely not” to the blowjob hypothetical, mindbogglingly prioritizing his own homophobia over the ability to feed every starving person on the planet. Cruz dodged the question—perhaps because he refuses to do anything involving the word “job,” or perhaps because he’s unable to open his mouth without shit coming out.

Guys, this question really wasn’t hard. You just have to put one dick in your mouth, one time, to solve a massive global problem. No one even asked them to do anything fancy, like cup the balls or swallow. And this sitting U.S. senator is so wildly insecure in his masculinity that he would rather let billions of people starve. This is what we’re dealing with, people: a politician who fled to Cancun as his constituents literally froze to death, who screamed at Montana airport employees “DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM” so he could get back to D.C. on time to ask incoming Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson if babies are racist, and who would rather watch the whole world suffer than suck a penis.

For the record, Jezebel writers have historically been willing to take one for the team to end mass suffering. Asked whether she would have sex with Donald Trump, one of the least fuckable men on the planet, if it meant ending his presidential campaign in 2016, Anna Merlan confirmed that yes, she would suck it up and do what was necessary. She wrote:

For that reason, I would, if called upon by my country, if caught on a day when I’m feeling particularly patriotic, consider having sex with Donald Trump. I would need an excellent glass (bucket) of wine beforehand, I would need to be high as hell, it would have to be in a position where I didn’t have to see his face, and I would need a guarantee that it wouldn’t last longer than like two minutes. (I don’t think it would.) And then I would need a six-week vacation, hiking alone through a jungle somewhere and weeping at night alone in a tent, a gentle rain battering the sides. A cleansing rain. A healing rain.

Thank you, Anna. See, it’s not that hard, Ted. It may be your only hope of getting anyone to like you. Please reconsider, for the sake of humanity.