Just another violation of an old political axiom: When you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Finally, a candidate emerges whose name says it all. Too bad he’s running for a seat in the Turkish Parliament.
Yeah, cheap yuk, especially from a guy named “Klotz,” ferchrissake.
Closer to home, there was this report of an emerging genius in Delray beach, of all places:
A drunken man walked into the Delray Beach Police Department about 3 a.m. Saturday and said he was robbed at gunpoint by his drug dealer.
Mark House, 21, a construction manager from Boynton Beach, told police a man named “G-Code” robbed him after he paged him to buy cocaine, according to a police report.
About 2:30 a.m. Saturday the two men went to an unknown house in the northwest section of the city off Atlantic Avenue. The suspect then got the drugs and was driving with House when he pulled over and put a handgun to House’s head, according the report. The suspect took his wallet and sped off in black Nissan. — Sun-Sentinel
Damn I hate it when that happens. And there’s never a cop around when you need one, y’know?
Finally, from the “Right Under Your Nose” Department:
Harlingen, TX A man who said he has damaged nerves in his nose never smelled his wife’s decomposing body in a storage room of their home and thought she had left him, police said.
The couple’s daughter was looking for a cat on July 15 when she found Alicia Pilouw’s body in a storage room filled with household items, Eugene Pilouw said. His wife had been gone for three days.
“I never smelled anything and I still don’t smell anything,” said Pilouw, who blames diabetes for his damaged nose. “I thought she had run away from home again — especially after I noticed an envelope with $250 was missing.” — Sun-Sentinel
Well, for sure something about this stinks, but I imagine the local constabulary have already determined that much. Like the way the family goes looking for a missing cat, but doesn’t bother doing that much for the Missus, and just assumes she’s “run off again”?
Whatever. Gotta feel sorry for ol’ Eugene, though, who, with his damaged nose, can’t fully appreciate the aesthetic depth of his own farts. Wonder if there’s a support group somewhere.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Yesterday’s headline story was all about fat people. Not just ordinary overweight folks, but F-A-T ones: morbidly obese avoirdupoidically challenged Americans. Seems a study just out claims obesity spreads (no pun meant) rather like a virus. Sort of contagious.
Obesity can spread from person to person, much like a virus, researchers are reporting today. When a person gains weight, close friends tend to gain weight, too……..people were most likely to become obese when a friend became obese. That increased a person’s chances of becoming obese by 57 percent.
There was no effect when a neighbor gained or lost weight, however, and family members had less influence than friends….Proximity did not seem to matter: the influence of the friend remained even if the friend was hundreds of miles away…. The same effect seemed to occur for weight loss, the investigators say. But since most people were gaining, not losing, over the 32 years of the study, the result was an obesity epidemic. — NY Times
Wonderful news for the enabling industry, particularly the Czars of Eating Disorders, whose job is to make fat people (and other akrasiacs) feel better about themselves without challenging them to change. See, it’s not your fault if you don’t push back from the table, or mix in a mouthful of greens with your twice-daily helping of cholesterol a la mode, or cut down from your 6 cherry Cokes and 4 beers daily. Your best friend is a lard-ass, too. We’re all in this together, see?
Dr. Nicholas Christakis…a principal investigator in the new study, says one explanation is that friends affect each others’ perception of fatness. When a close friend becomes obese, obesity may not look so bad….“You change your idea of what is an acceptable body type by looking at the people around you,” Dr. Christakis said. (op.cit.)
I guess this also explains sexual activity in biker bars and leper colonies. Pigs don’t mind the smell of pigs, so why would fatties turn off other fatties?
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, there’s this:
The stigma that society attaches to obesity can cause children immediate, and possibly lasting, harm, according to a research review …. Overweight children and teens are commonly teased or ostracized by their peers, and sometimes treated differently by teachers and even parents. This, the review shows, can lead to low self-esteem, poor school performance, avoidance of physical activity and, in the most serious cases, depression and suicide. — ScientificAmerican.com
So on the one hand, associating with fat people reinforces further fat-making behavior, but the unfatted community, including (presumably unfat) parents, tend to drive the fat little brats to hari-kariville. Do I have this right? Or maybe there’s some tiny inconsistency in the alleged science reported here.
I’ll leave it to the
apologists experts to sort out — but my bias is clear. This is all unadulterated horseshit aimed at ensuring the vocational viability of pseudo-scientists called “psychologists” who ply their sick witchcraft on the world’s weak, vulnerable, and gullible.
Got a weight problem? Drop your knives and forks, folks. Your first step is just that fucking simple. I’ll send my bill in the morning.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Think maybe as a result of yesterday’s post I got the following email?
From: Antoine Y. Mckenzie [mailto:Antoine@valkyrie.net]
Saturday, January 01, 2000Gregorio T. Collier
All Ladies always laughed at me and even guys did in the public toilets! Well, now I giggle at them, because I took for 4-6 months and now my dick is much bigger than “average” size. Click here!
Yes, you, too, can grow your own donkey dick and giggle at everybody else’s! And stride into the public restroom like you OWN the damn urinal!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Ft Lauderdale, FL Mayor Jim Naugle issued a public apology on the steps of City Hall Tuesday afternoon, but it wasn’t the apology the gay community was looking for…..Naugle apologized for underestimating the problem of men having sex with each other in public restrooms, and urged people to call police to complain when they come upon it. He also said Broward County leads the nation in the incidence of new AIDS cases involving men having sex with men, and questioned whether the county tourism office should be welcoming them here. — Sun/Sentinel
I’m shocked, shocked. I had no idea that the homosexual infestation had achieved such proportions. Evidently, neither did the Ft Lauderdale police department: according to Sgt. Frank Sousa, “There’s no evidence, no reports or arrests made for any men having sex in any restrooms.”
This whole business got started (appropriately) with a discussion of toilets, and, as often happens when ignorant politicians air their pie-holes, immediately descended into complete bullshit. According to the Sun-Sentinel article noted above,
[Regarding] a proposed self-cleaning, automatic toilet the city was going to buy for the beach, Naugle said an added benefit would be that it would deter men from using it for “homosexual activity,” which he said was a problem in public restrooms. He also said he uses the term “homosexual” rather than “gay,” because gays are “unhappy.”
I’m floored by this revelation. Gays are “unhappy?” I immediately call my next-door neighbors, two gay men who have cohabitated for over 20 years, and demanded the whole truth and nothing but(t). ‘Fess up, faggots! The Mayor of Ft Lauderdale says you’re unhappy! Is that true?
“You mean now? Well, yeah,” they said.
Astonishing! How did Mayor Naugle know? Evidently scores of Lauderdalians have been phoning him daily, complaining that they fear allowing their children to visit beach restrooms unaccompanied for fear of encountering glory-hole goings-on. “Everybody knows what happens in these restrooms,” the Mayor noted, grimly. “Don’t visitors to our beautiful beaches have the right to drain their dragons without fear? How can you aim your stream when you’re keeping an eye out behind you?”
Next week, the Mayor’s office plans to issue a proclamation banning sperm whales from the waters of Ft Lauderdale Beach. “”We trying to provide a family environment here,” it states. “Sperm is just so sticky-sticky boy-perv. It can’t be abided in a Christian community.”
Watching Jim Naugle morph into his predecessor Mayor Bob Cox — yes, “Cox” as in “uncontrollable homosexual erections gone wild in public restrooms” — who famously advocated pouring kerosene in trash cans to discourage homeless persons’ scavenging, and once told a 4th grade class at Dillard Elementary School that the sole requirements to become mayor was to be “free, white, and 21” is eerie, if not outright creepy. Perhaps this is evidence that the shelf life of a shabby small-town politician is shorter than that of a lubricated prophylactic in a diner’s restroom dispenser. Oops! Another hotbed of homosexual humping? Stay tuned, America!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
You’re missing a good time if you don’t drop in on serial blogger/commenter Manuel A. Tellechea’s blog, Review of Cuban American Blogs now and then. He can be nasty funny as well as insightful, and whether you agree with him or not — I often don’t, and we have a fun bickerfest, anyway — it’s rewarding to imagine how much he irritates the targets of his assaults.
Today he offers a joke. He’s done this before, but this one has an edge I admire.
Last week, discussing Babalu Blog, Manny remarked that one of its principals “may well be the only Cuban his age who doesn’t speak Spanish.” That one made me spit my Post Toasties.
Keep on truckin’, Manny. As my Hungarian grandma used to say, “Stew tastes better when the pot gets stirred.” (She also said stolen fruit was sweeter. Hungarians!)
Monday, July 23, 2007
Read Tammy Faye Bakker’s obit here. I await with baited breath a Best Of compilation on youtube.
During her taped interview with Larry King (aired last week), Tammy Faye Bakker Messner noted that her weight was down to 65 pounds. She did not specify whether or not this included layers of mascara, foundation, and make-up, or the eyelashes, breast implants, or wigs she piled on her diminutive frame. To say nothing of the earrings, bracelets, baubles, and ropes of jewelry purchased with the fraudulently obtained funds which led to her execrable spouse’s eventual conviction and defrocking.
John Waters himself couldn’t design a better caricature of everything wrong, hideous, and loathsome about televangelism generally, and its most noxious practitioners specifically, than Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. Suckers for their soppy salvation scam sent them hundreds of millions over the years, underwriting the couple’s lavish lifestyle, including Rev. Jim’s backroom sexual peccadilloes (most famously with Jessica Hahn, to whom he paid $250,000 in hush money). And who can forget the air-conditioned doghouse at one of their many opulent estates?
But for sheer nausea, it was human eyesore Tammy Faye, wailing hymns, gushing tears, invoking the love of the lord at every opportunity while offering herself to an adoring public as proof of the power of prayer. She discussed her postpartum depression, addiction to painkillers, boob job, and marriage woes. “A lot of people say, ‘Don’t air your dirty laundry in public,’ but my laundry’s been cleaned by the Lord,” she said.
The ultimate Me-Generation. What wouldn’t Jesus do? While millions of Americans lapped it up and sent in their money.
She died last Friday. Later this week they’ll administer an enema and bury her in a size 3 shoe box.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Dog owners and their supporters cheered as Hollywood commissioners agreed Wednesday to temporarily allow canines to swim at North Beach on weekends……The experiment will begin Aug. 31 and last for 60 days, during which dogs would be allowed during limited hours on North Hollywood Beach between Custer and Pershing streets. — Miami Hurled
Hip hip hooray.
As far as I’m concerned, the only reason dogs should be on beaches is to check for land mines. Of course, as a dog owner, I’m prejudiced.
See–I knew this would happen. There’s a precedent. Not too long ago the idiots in power caved to pressure and decreed that dogs were allowed in outdoor restaurants. Toss these beasts a bone they take the whole skeleton. The dogs, too.
Dogs tend to shit a lot — ever notice? And their owners tend not to care (one opponent of the measure cited a news article claiming “40% of Americans don’t pick up their dog waste”). So now we trip the light fantastic down to the water’s edge dodging not only the usual dead jelly fish, bottle caps, used prophylactics, medical waste, and jagged seashells, but steaming dog piles, too. Kids don’t draw enough flies to the beach already, we need more?
Don’t you love the idea of meandering down to water’s edge to spread your towel over an area where mere moments before your arrival Rover deposited his used Alpo? Or sitting there minding your own business and some yapping cur comes along and starts tasting your freshly Coppertoned leg? Dogs do this, you know. Even kids — who as far as I’m concerned should also be banned from the beach, or at least muzzled and leashed — don’t usually approach strangers and lick their accessible body parts.
Has anybody asked the seagulls and herons how they feel about this? They LIVE there. They BELONG there. They want to share the beach with excitable hounds even less than I do.
The only good news out of this is the damage that dogs will suffer as a result of their zany marauding on the sand, which is bad for their hips and legs. Veterinarians call it displasia. I call it man’s best friend.
Life’s a beach, not a bitch, and never the twain shall meet.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
We owe this guy a final moment of tribute. He was there for us ‘way before Al Gore invented teh internets.