Thursday, July 30, 2009
Unnamed sources within the Secret Service indicate that, while the cameras rolled, everything was peaceful and civil between all the parties, with Obama seemingly enjoying his newfound role as mediator. When the reporters left, however, the three men continued to sit at the picnic table, drinking beer and talking amicably.
Around 11:00 PM, the President's youngest daughter, Sasha, stuck her head out the door of the White House and announced to her father, "Momma says it's time for you to tell your friends goodnight and come to bed."
The President sat in stunned silence, while Gates and Crowley howled with laughter. Pres. Obama, looking to recover, asked his daughter to "be a good girl and go get three more beers for daddy and his friends."
Minutes later, the President's oldest daughter, Malia, appeared at the door and said sternly, "Momma says it's time to come inside NOW! You've had enough beer for one night."
Prof. Gates chortled, "Barack, you ain't got a hair on your black ass if you let that woman run you like that." To which, Sgt. Crowley added, "Skip (referring to Prof. Gate's nickname), I think our boy here is whipped. Let's you and me see if we can find a titty bar in this town. Run along now, Barack....."
The President rose unsteadily to his feet and ambled toward the opened door. "MICHELLE!" he bellowed, "I'll be in when I'm damn good 'n ready and, you know what, I ain't ready! Make us some baloney sandwiches and send the girls out with three more beers. 'N make it snappy, woman!"
No sooner had he turned around to look for approval from his two new friends when they heard the deadbolt turn on the door and the outside light clicked off, leaving the three men in the dark.
Outraged, President Obama motioned to his Secret Service detail who had been stationed nearby. "Know what, kick that door down. I want you to kick the door damn down. No, wait, kick the down damn door down." He started to giggle and Prof. Gates fell off the picnic table bench, much to the delight of Sgt. Crowley, who laughed so hard that beer flew out his nose. "No, that ain't it---kick the....kick the damn door down. Yeah, that's it, the damn door down! Now."
The Secret Service agent replied coolly, "No can do, sir."
The President poked a finger in the agent's chest and slurred, "You know who I am? I'm the Precedent of these United Steaks in America. All 57 of 'em. 'N when I say you gotta do something, then ain't you gotta do it?"
To which the agent reiterated his previous response, "No can do, sir. You see sir, if I do something to rile up Renaissance (referring to Mrs. Obama's Secret Service code name), then she tells my wife. It sets a bad precedent, sir. Know that I would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat, sir, but I will not sleep on the couch, cook my own meals or wash my own socks for you, sir, president or no."
President Obama slumped against the wall, turned to his friends and muttered, "Well, ain't that some shit, now?"
"Forget it, B-Dogg. Everything's cool. We better be goin' anyhow," said Prof. Gates. "C'mon, Jimmy, I'll drop you off, man. B-Dogg, yo, we had a blast, dude......"
"Hold it, dudes," said the President. "The B-Man ain't done yet. Let's see what my little furry friend, Bo, has hiding in his crib for his poppa."
Reaching into the Obama family pet's doghouse, the President pulled out three 40 0z. bottles of Colt .45 Malt Liquor in a brown paper bag. "Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' 'bout! Ain't nobody tellin' Barack he can't have no more beer with his boys. We just gettin' started here....."
As Billie Dee Williams says about Colt .45 Malt Liquor, "It works every time......"
Monday, July 20, 2009
CODY, Wyoming - Wielding his chain saw as a weapon, a former U.S. Marine says he fought off a starving mountain lion that attacked him while he was camping with his wife and two toddlers in northwestern Wyoming.
Dustin Britton, a 32-year-old mechanic and ex-Marine, said he was alone cutting firewood about 100 feet from his campsite in the Shoshone National Forest when he saw the lion staring at him from some bushes.
Britton revved his 18-inch chain saw and tried to back away. But the 100-pound lion followed.
As the animal pounced, Britton raised his saw and met it head-on — a collision he said felt like a grown man running right into him.
"It batted me three or four times with its front paws and as quick as I hit it with that saw it just turned away," he said in a telephone interview with The Associated Press.
Britton later discovered he'd inflicted a gash on the lion's shoulder. He said he was surprised the damage wasn't worse.
"You would think if you hit an animal with a chain saw it would dig right in. I might as well have hit it with a hockey stick," he said.
The wounded animal retreated, leaving Britton with a only small puncture wound on his forearm.
Upon learning of this incident, Commandant of the Marine Corps, General James T. Conroy, issued this statement:
"On behalf of the United States Marines Corps, I apologize for this sad example of what a U. S. Marine should be. We understand that this gentleman is no longer in the Corps, which is fortunate for him. Because if he was, he would be given an immediate dishonorable discharge and drummed out of the service, never to be called a Marine again."
"For if he were a true Marine, he would have given his chainsaw TO the mountain lion and then bit ITS FUCKING HEAD OFF, PISSED DOWN ITS NECK AND HAD IT STUFFED SO HIS KIDS COULD SLEEP WITH IT!!!!"
"To have to resort to the use of any kind of weapon when facing down an emaciated, starving 100-pound weakling of a mountain lion is an embarrassment to the Corps. To try and "back away" from a perceived threat is an embarrassment to the Corps. To say that an encounter with a 100-pound mountain lion felt like "a grown man running right into him" is an embarrassment to the Corps. To say that "it batted me" is an embarrassment to the Corps. To say that you hit a mountain lion with a chain saw and "was surprised the damage wasn't worse" is an embarrassment to the Corps. To say that you "might as well have hit it with a hockey stick" is an embarrassment to the Corps. And to let an enemy retreat while suffering only a "small puncture wound" is A FUCKING EMBARRASSMENT TO THE CORPS!"
"I can assure you that the Marine Corps will be conducting a full and thorough investigation into this incident and if we find that any training he received while enlisted in the Marines contributed to this shameful behavior, that training shall be corrected at once to conform with the Marine code of conduct and better reflect the proud heritage of the United States Marine Corps. Semper Fi, Marines!"
"THIS AIN'T THE FUCKING BOY SCOUTS, YOU PINK PANTY-WEARIN,' MENSTRUAL CRAMP OF A MAGGOT; THIS IS THE FUCKING UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS! SEE IF YOU CAN TRY AND WRAP YOUR PINT-SIZED PEA BRAIN AROUND THAT, MISS MORNING GLORY. HOO-RAH."
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Florida Dentist Drops Dental Tools Down Patient's Throat During Procedure, Now Suing For Their Return
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The purloined pictures show Miss/Mr. Andrews returning to his/her hotel room and undressing prior to getting in the shower. As she slowly peeled off her slinky chiffon off-the-shoulder dress and let it drop tantalizingly to the floor around those well-turned ankles, still wearing those Manolo Blahnik scarlet stillettos, it was obvious that something was amiss/amister.
First, off came the Spanx body-shaping garment, then the make-up, the wig, the 'chicken cutlets' stuffed in her Wonderbra, the corset, the girdle, the control-top pantyhose and, last, but not least, the glass eye. Yes, the glass eye! Imagine how many beer-swilling, pretzel-popping, chip-crunching couch potatoes living in their parents' basement have nodded off to dreamland during a commercial break fantasizing about gazing longingly into those eyes! Not so much of a fantasy now, unless they happen to also have an equal appreciation for Swarovski crystal, too.
Lamented one unidentified major league baseball player after viewing the video, "I can't believe she fooled everyone for so long. Actually, I can't believe she fooled me for so long, considering we dated for several months in 2006. I guess you never know about some people....."
Said CBS sideline reporter and 2001 "America's Sexiest Sportscaster," Jill Arrington, "Frankly, I'm not all that surprised. Don't get me wrong, she--I mean, he--was pretty good, but I always thought that there was something just a little bit off about her. Her mannerisms, her walk, the way she was always adjusting her crotch; I can't really put my finger on it, but something about her--I mean, him--just didn't ring true with me."
"And, believe me, it didn't have a thing to do with her replacing me as "America's Sexiest Sportscaster," that little bitch--I mean, bastard."
The Captain says: The next time you, a middle-aged white guy, get robbed by two armed men at 6:30 in the morning while you're trying to score some weed in one of Sarasota's, ummm, more adventurous parts of town, don't yell at them, "YOU DIDN'T GET MY MONEY!!" as you're driving away. At the very least, not until you're safely out of gunshot range.
On second thought, you probably shouldn't say anything to these two guys anyway, considering that they made you take off your shorts at gunpoint before they robbed you. In retrospect, you should consider yourself lucky that all they did was shoot you.....
Friday, July 17, 2009
Like who hasn't used that excuse before, say, for example, after a night of hard partying that got just a tad out of hand and you wake up the next afternoon, not knowing where you are, who all these strange people are you're with and not knowing which hurts more, your head or your wrist, so you go to the emergency room and all they want to know is why you're wearing nothing but women's underwear on your head before they will treat you, like that makes some sort of difference as to how to fix a broken arm, unless it's some sort of regulation, which I doubt, but, then again, I'm no doctor because if I was, I could fix my own arm and not have to stand here in this FREEZING emergency room with everyone staring at me for no good reason. Not that something of that nature ever happened to me, mind you. I'm just sayin'....
The 82-year old Pontiff had minor surgery on his right wrist to repair a slight fracture. The normally right-handed head of the Roman Catholic Church had to remove the large gold Holy Fisherman's ring that is traditionally kissed by the faithful upon meeting him. He is now wearing it on his left hand, adjacent to his Ovaltine Secret Decoder Ring on his left pinkie.
Doctors have assured the Pope that he will be "good as new" following his recuperation and that his piano playing ability will "be unaffected." Pope Benedict lamented, "That's too bad; I play like crap now. I was hoping it would make me better."
Upon hearing this, the doctors quickly ushered the Pontiff back into the operating room, where he was outfitted with a prototype nuclear-powered prosthetic limb.
Said chief surgeons, Drs. Maria Matteo Tettrazini and Marcilio Ariosto Cacciatore, along with chief pasta maker, Ettore Boiardi, better known as 'Chef Boyardee,' "We estimate that this new arm of His Holiness will allow him to bless 27% more people, finish mass 16% faster and write 12% more holy papal edicts. And he'll be able to play the piano like Van Cliburn. Or Jerry Lee Lewis."
Upon leaving the hospital, Pope Benedict XVI shakes the hands of three nurses, one of whom was immediately healed of her migraine headaches, another of her chronic back condition and the third of being horribly flat-chested.
Sarasota Cops Give Man $400 Payoff, Attorney Decries Lack of Client's Constitutional Rights, Legal Ethics, Professionalism, Human Dignity and His Fee
The victim, one Juan Perez, was picked up by Sarasota PD on June 26th on charges of being drunk, disorderly and stupid. Video from a police station camera shows the handcuffed Perez shimmying out an open rear window of a police car and falling face-first (surprise!) onto the pavement. The officer then exited the car and kicked Perez twice when he tried to stand up. Perez fell back to the pavement and the arresting officer stands with his foot on the perp for several minutes, apparently waiting for a doughnut, while other officers come and go. Didn't anybody at the academy ever explain to this cop that these things are best done someplace other than in front of the police station camera?
Sarasota PD, ever vigilant to uphold the rights of the citizens they have sworn to protect and serve, initiated an intensive investigation into the matter.
On July 10th.
Fourteen days after the incident took place.
Only after they found out that the newspaper was getting a copy of the video.
Crack investigators from the city's risk management department met with Perez and an interpreter, as Perez speaks only Spanish. Sarasota PD also assigned veteran officer, Sgt. Ken Castro, to leave no stone unturned and get to the bottom of this potentially-damaging incident.
After an exhaustive investigation that boldly penetrated the notorious veil of secrecy surrounding the thin blue line of law enforcement, it was determined that the Sarasota Police Department would stand up and do the right and noble thing, regardless of the consequences and repercussions. They all agreed that they had taken an oath to uphold the constitution of this great country and, by Joe Friday, that's what had to be done.
So, they offered Perez $400.
In a check.
Signed off on by a risk management employee.
Authorized by his boss, the human resources manager.
Delivered to Perez' house by none other than Sgt. Ken Castro, the erstwhile officer assigned to be investigating the possible impropriety by the police dept.
Who had to drive Perez to the bank to cash the check.
And have him sign the waiver absolving the SPD of any wrongdoing.
Which, I imagine, was written in English.
Tipped off by the Herald Tribune, attorney Jim Delgado and a reporter just happened to be standing in the Perez driveway when the two new BFFs returned from doing their banking. As Perez exited the officer's car, Sgt. Castro advised Perez, in Espanol, that he didn't have to listen to Attorney Delgado, who, it turns out, just happens to speak Espanol. Ouch!
"Are you giving him legal advice not to speak to his attorney? asked Delgado.
To which the ever-professional peace officer replied, "I can do whatever I need to do. I did him a favor."
As he was leaving, Sgt. Castro threw the money envelope out his car window, which struck Delgado. "That's battery," cried Delgado. Who then, we suspect, fell writhing in agony to the ground from the force of the envelope crashing into his body. He later went to the Police Department to try and return the money and complain about Sgt. Castro's reckless actions, probably on crutches and wearing a neck brace.
When contacted by reporters, NOBODY in City Hall knew ANYTHING about this incident, even though it was a City of Sarasota check. (How do you list that on the city's check ledger, by the way? Payoff? Bribe? Hush money? Miscellaneoous? Party favors?)
The Sarasota County Bar Association is filing an unfair labor practice lawsuit on behalf of ambulance-chasing lawyers everywhere against the Sarasota PD. Said one spokeslawyer, "We are confident we can shake down the City of Sarasota for a hell of a lot more than 400 bucks. Why, if we were to sue on Mr. Perez' behalf, a good attorney could probably get $2 million from them. After attorneys fees, court costs, research fees, investigator's fees, bar tabs and copying charges, Mr. Perez would stand to collect around $538, plus or minus a buck or two. Of course, he'd have to pay taxes on that, while his shameful payoff of $400 would be tax-free, but think how many bartenders and cocktail waitresses depend on attorneys' expense checks for their livelihood."
Sarasota taxpayers are going to think that $400 of their money to settle this was a bargain by the time it's all done. Next time, they're hoping cops just shoot the guy--OFF-CAMERA, PLEASE--and be done with it.
Gougem & Gougem, Attorneys At Law.
"We're in this for YOU!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Long-In-The-Tooth "Unconditional Surrender" Sculpture To Be Pulled From Sarasota Bayfront, Space To Be Filled By Piece With More Bite
The piece is to be replaced by an old favorite from last year's Season of Sculpture: the Giant Molar. This universally-loved and highly regarded installation is being funded by a group of Suncoast dental professionals. A coalition consisting of the Sarasota Association of Dentists (S.A.D.), the Manatee Association of Dentists (M.A.D.), the Bradenton Association of Dentists (B.A.D.) and the Charlotte Association of Dentists (C.A.D.) has come together to raise nearly $750,000 to return the enormous enameled favorite to the Sarasota waterfront.
Said S.A.D. spokesman, Dr. Will Yankem, "We'd love to see the whole bayfront, from downtown to Selby Garden, lined with nothing but molars, incisors, cuspids and bicuspids."
"This is just fabulous news," gushed arts maven and guru of good taste, Virginia Hoffman. "I am soooo relieved to be done with that piece of trash--what was it called again, "Reconditioned Suspenders?" Now if we can only get that divine installation of artistically-upended automobiles re-installed, I would be happier than the day they slapped the handcuffs on my ex-husband, Art Nadel."
When reminded that so many people loved the sailor and nurse and might not like the towering tooth, Hoffman said, "The only imbeciles who won't like La Grosse Dent--that's what we call it in French, for you unwashed rabble out there--will be the old people. And they're just mad because the sculpture of a tooth reminds them that they don't have any anymore."
Not just a tooth, but "an artistic representation of man's innate inability to understand his world and his failed attempts to control his own destiny in that world vis-a-vis his interpersonal relationships to others of his own species."
Well, duh, who didn't know that??
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
According to a survey by the National Coalition for the Homeless, Sarasota is no longer the "Meanest City In America." In fact, we didn't even make the top ten. In a 2006 study, we were #1. At the top of our game, living up to our snotty reputation as only we could; rousting the homeless, throwing them in the can, making their miserable lives, well, even more miserable.
Today, we're nothing but an 'also ran.'
It is, indeed, a sad day for the abuses of wealth and power everywhere.
Especially when you consider the places that beat us out this year. Los Angeles is at the top of the list. I watch enough cop shows on TV to understand that, what with all the rogue cops these shows seem to depict in just about every other episode and the fact that everyone in LA is either fabulouly wealthy or was fabulously wealthy and is now a homeless drug addict/serial killer. OK, I get that one.
Same goes for San Francisco. LOTS of homeless serial killers running around killing homeless people, so I can see them at #7 and nearby Berkeley at #10.
Atlanta at #4; eh, maybe.
Honolulu at #8? I don't remember Magnum, P.I., addressing homeless criminals much. Or even Hawaii 5-0, for that matter. This is surely an embarrassment for President Obama, however, being a hometown guy and all. I'm sure this is the last time we'll see them on the list while he's in office and still has any stimulus money left to buy them bus fare to the volcano.
Kalamazoo, MI in sixth place is another mystery. Where's Detroit on this list? Don't you think just being Detroit these days qualifies you to be in the top ten "meanest cities in America?" I mean, really, it's Detroit, for crying out loud.
Which brings us to the four representatives for the Sunshine State on the list. (At least we beat out California for having the most cities listed!)
How in the hell can St. Petersburg be in second place? It's "God's Waiting Room," is it not? Everyone knows that homeless people don't go to heaven, so why are there even homeless people in St. Pete? Somewhere there has to be "Satan's Waiting Room"--they should be living there, instead.
And Orlando at number three? Impossible! It's home to "The Happiest Place On Earth." Did you ever see Mickey giving the bum's rush to a bum? Ever see Minnie with a moocher? Pluto putting the bite on a panhandler? Orlando's inclusion on this list must have been some sort of a clerical error or something.
Gainesville in fifth place is another mystery, unless the National Coalition for the Homeless counts not supplying vagrants with tickets to Gator football games as cruel and unusual punishment. Maybe the University of Florida boosters are trying to keep the homeless and downtrodden out of sight of the college so the students can't see what the future of this brave new world holds in store for them. If they can't play football or basketball, I mean.
The biggest shame for Sarasotans is, by far, the appearance of our neighbors to the north on the list. Bradenton, long wallowing in the shadow of Sarasota, has silenced our thunder, squeezed us out of the limelight, kicked us to our well-manicured, gated curb, so to speak.
Their leaders had the foresight and vision to institute a crackdown on panhandling, employ the old bicycle sting operation (that was a good one--our Lexus sting last year went nowhere) and their newly-enacted camping ordinances helped to make them the ninth toughest town in the country. We salute you in your efforts.
Maybe if our elected officials wouldn't have spent so much time with their heads up the collective asses of Major League Baseball and their feet up the collective asses of the homeless, we could have retained our coveted title of "Meanest City In America."
You want cute, it ain't here on the Suncoast."
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Apparently, what police thought was a spontaneous melee among drunken fans that they were breaking up, turned out to be a planned fight competition between two area teams.
According to retired-UFC-fighter-turned-promoter, Nathan "The Harley Hammer" Young, this was the inaugural bout of a new variation of the mixed martial arts format of the wildly successful Ultimate Fighting Championship. Instead of two individuals trying to kill each other, two teams try to kill each other.
"This is the next logical step," explained Young. "First there was pro boxing, then the World Wrestling Federation, then the UFC. We're the next progression."
"What could be more exciting or primal than two teams of twenty testosterone-fueled fighters each squaring off on an asphalt arena trying to beat one another into submission. No ring, no cage, no fake folding chairs to the back of the head--just blacktop, beer and blood."
"I admit I should have done a better job explaining that to North Port's finest, but, since this was our first event, I guess there was some miscommunication somewhere. I have decided that Saturday night's fight between the teams from the North Port Buffalo Wild Wings and the Lakeside Plantation Homeowner's Association will officially be recorded as a draw, since the police interference prevented a winner from being determined."
The new league is called the Association of Parking Lot Ass-Kickers, or APLAK. And, no, Young admits, the anagram's similarity to the insurance giant AFLAC is no accident. "Being a start-up, we thought we could cash in on AFLAC's talking duck commercials, only our ads will feature a pit bull carrying around a dead poodle in its mouth instead of a duck. Cute, no?"
Young thinks his new enterprise has great promise. "I envision this concept going viral. Pro teams sponsored by bars, restaurants, liquor stores, meth labs, etc., will give rise to an amateur league sponsored by churches, schools, convenience stores, hardware stores and so on."
"And the timing of this couldn't be better. Think about it; the economy sucks, you lost your job, you lost your car, you lost your house and you're living with your in-laws--who wouldn't want to go somewhere, grab a few beers and watch forty people kick the living hell out of each other?"
Boosters of the Lakeside Plantation Homeowners team hold a pep rally before Saturday night's contest at Buffalo Wild Wings in North Port
Monday, July 13, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Now, he takes on another one-sided controversy: pythons in the Everglades. Following extensive research by staffers, Nelson is confident enough to say that thousands of non-native pythons running amok in the Everglades is a bad thing, with little fear of contradiction by the python lobby in Washington. Because there isn't one.
"George Bush gave me this picture...."
When polled, only one member of the bridal party had ever heard of the 'Amusement Park Clause' in Maine's matrimonial law: You must be this tall to get married.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
According to the million or so "close personal friends" of the late Michael Jackson who have crawled out of the woodwork since his death, he was either:
- in the best shape of his life and at the top of his game or
- a near-invalid, 98-pound bag of bones on his death-bed,
- looking forward to his upcoming concert tour or
- unable to function due to anxiety,
- a health nut who was concerned about nutrition or
- a junkie with only pills in his stomach at the autopsy,
- a straight arrow who never abused prescription medications or
- a drugged-out zombie who used several different aliases to get oxycodone, vicodin, Preparation H, etc.,
- like a little boy or
- liked little boys (really, really liked little boys),
- a genius whose music will live on forever or
- a dead guy who is going to make a lot of people rich when they write their books, their magazine articles, sell their pictures, sell their bobblehead dolls, etc. ad nauseum.
Apparently, since they were all so close to him, he was all of the above at the same time. And that feat alone should be enough to make him famous. Then, again, so should going from this:
During the frenetic ambulance ride to the hospital, EMTs were unable to revive the lifeless body of Michael Jackson. Dr. Conrad Murray, Jackson's personal cardiologist, did, however, detect a weak pulse in Jackson's nose, but physicians at the UCLA Medical Center were not equipped to perform an emergency nose-ectomy and the oft-maligned proboscis was pronounced dead at 5:15 PM, nearly three hours after Jackson's official time of death.
Concern for Jackson's three children--Prince I, Princess and Prince II--is mounting. His official will calls for guardianship to be provided by Jackson's mother, 79-year old Katherine. In the event, she cannot assume that role, Diana Ross is to be given custody. The will states that if Ms. Ross is unable or unwilling to take legal guardianship, then the responsibility for the nurturing and the well-being of the children is to be given to this close family friend:
Family patriarch, Joe Jackson, is already angling to cash in on the wave of sympathy for his deceased son. Michael Jackson's upcoming concert tour was to be called "THIS IS IT." The elder Jackson is negotiating with concert promoters AEG to produce a retrospective of Michael Jackson's career entitled "THAT WAS IT."
The Jackson family, for whatever reason, has had a second autopsy done by a disinterested third party. During that private autopsy, it was discovered that Michael Jackson took to his grave his most shocking personal transformation yet:
"The Lady In My Life?"