You know what’s sexy about Bill O’Reilly? Um…nothing. Nothing at all. But at least with Bill, you’d know what to expect with this dare. I think I’d say no to this if it involved some other member of the far right out of fear of the sexual curveballs they’d throw in the midst of a phone sex conversation. An awful lot of the Moral Majority live public lives of showy repression while privately behaving like models of sexual deviance eclipsed only by people cartoon characters like Troy McClure. With Bill, though, there wouldn’t be any scary surprises, since pretty much all of his prurient proclivities were spilled in a 22-page sexual harassment complaint filed in 2004. All you have to do here is 1) make mental notes of what he likes — think of the complaint as your guide, 2) put on a passable performance (while you perform household chores and watch TV with the volume down) and 3) collect your million. Just a quick perusal of the thing would tell you that he loves to show others how to use vibrators, that he’ll want to tell that story about the two “really wild” Swedish stewardesses he dreamed he did it with, and that he’ll probably go on and on about wanting to take a shower with you and rub you all over with falafel. (Yeah, that’s right. The Middle Eastern food. What? What’s weird about that?) Ten minutes on the phone listening to him bloviate about his sexual prowess, a second or two spent wiping the vomit from the corners of your mouth, and all of a sudden, you’re a millionaire! How can you say no? This dare is a yes if I ever saw one. High five!