Sunday, May 8, 2011

Granny Gamut: Grandmas Allegedly Get Taken For Ride At Funeral Parlor, Graveyard & On Match.com, But Take Revenge in the Motor City...





It's a bad weekend to be a female senior citizen. Or a good weekend, depending on your perspective. The lessons learned: Pick your funeral parlor, your graveyard, and your online love interests very carefully. And if you see any old hags looking like Granny Clampett and running around in Detroit wearing a hat, then real quick-like make a beeline the hell out of there.



Grandma Got Screwed Over By a Funeral Parlor & Graveyard (Allegedly)

He just wanted to lay Granny to rest with some dignity. But instead of a graceful exit to Heaven, Granny got detoured through funeral parlor and graveyard hell (allegedly). That's why Granny's son (Byron Morrow, whom I'll call Sonny) has sued the Taylor funeral parlor and Mount Hope cemetery in Chicago over Granny's "humiliating burial." First off, I want to know who was running these joints, anyway -- Paul Bearer and The Undertaker?



Things got off to a rough start almost from the beginning. Sonny alleges that the funeral parlor first screwed up the embalming of Granny. Imagine going to your grandma's wake and taking a gander inside the casket. She looks so peaceful. They've really made her look good.

But wait. What's that dripping sound? Wait. What's that brown liquid leaking from her skull!?! Jesus! That's formaldehyde! Good God, it wreaks! Where's the damn exit?

Sure enough, that's exactly what Sonny is alleging in the lawsuit: That the zany undertaker at the funeral parlor "improperly embalmed" Granny, "leaving brown liquid leaking from her skull." But at that point, these guys were just getting warmed up and having a "Hell of a Time" (allegedly).



You see, Granny was a rather large woman. There be 230 pounds of Granny, to be precise (not including embalming fluid, although most of that probably leaked out).

So Granny was going to need a (1) super-sized sarcophagus and (2) an extra-large grave site. No problem on the first count. The funeral parlor reportedly rebounded from the scalp-spewing incident and hooked up Granny pretty well on the oversized casket front. But then there was also the little matter of the grave site.

At the graveyard for the funeral, "the grave site ended up being too small for the oversize casket," alleges Sonny. But the Mount Hope cemetery wasn't going to let a little detail like that derail things.

Instead, they allegedly tried to jam the big coffin into the tiny burial space like it was a health care bill on Sunday Bloody Sunday -- which didn't do the coffin or Granny (or America) any favors. Specifically, Sonny alleges that "the gravesite ended up being too small for the oversize casket, and ended up being damaged in an attempt to force it into the grave." That's more offensive than Grandma Sarah herself:



Claiming the family "was humiliated and insulted" as a result of the alleged negligence of the funeral parlor and cemetery, Sonny's lawsuit is looking for over 50 grand in damages. No word yet whether they left Granny jammed down in that little grave or whether she got new death digs somewhere else.

This Grandma Got Run Over by a Slimeball

A different Granny was just looking for a little online love. So the 54-year-old New Zealander hit up Match.com and was quickly "winked" by a "kindly, bearded gentleman" whose profile said he was 55 years old. And "there was something different about this man."





Granny liked that the dude was "down to earth" and wasn't a "fancy" pants. Granny and the man started exchanging e-mails and talking on the phone. He told her sob stories about his ex-wife breaking his heart, his daughter dying, and spending every Valentine's Day at the graveyard.

He also says he's about to retire and open up his own "high end" jewelry joint, but first he's got to go to London on business. Then come the wild stories. He starts to Talk Turkey -- tells her that on his way back, he's stopped off in Dubai to buy diamonds worth $1.9 million for his new jewelry store.



Then the guy claims he got robbed by Somalian gangsters, who took his watch and briefcase (apparently having no interests in the diamonds). He tells Granny that his bank accounts have also been frozen, and so he needs some dough to pay the duty on the diamonds. Granny wires him her entire savings account -- $5400.

Then the guy needs some more money to have a company transfer the diamonds back to New Zealand. He says he is not allowed to carry them himself "because it is too much of a security risk." (This guy has an answer for everything -- nothing Lazy about his Song).



But by now Granny is starting to get suspicious. She calls the man's New Zealand phone number, and it's been disconnected, and the home which is his listed address has been sold. Turns out the guy and everything about him was a fake.

Cops says there's nothing they can do for Granny. While I find that a little difficult to believe, the real wrath here should be aimed at the scuzbucket who took Granny to the cleaners.

Only the most rotten and sleazy creep would try to scam a grandmother through a dating site. Whomever this guy was, I'm certain he's got a reservation waiting in that underground diamond mine that burns 1000 degrees year round.



Grannies Strike Back in Motown!

You can only push these grannies around for so long before they start to push back. Cops in Detroit are on the trail of a gang of Grannies known as the "Mad Hatters" (pictured at the very top from surveillance photos).

The calling card of these five Grannies is that they nearly always wear "hats of various colors and shapes" when they steal money, checks and credit cards from distracted shoppers from one side of Detroit Rock City to the other.



And the take for this little Senior Syndicate has been incredible. Cops estimate the Grannies' "ill-gotten bounty may approach $500,000"! The Grannies reportedly use the checks and credit cards to get as much money as they can out of the bank and also to purchase merchandise.

Cops "surmise that the genial appearance" of the Grannies "is helping them to pull off the caper." Put another way, "shoppers, banks and retailers tend not to suspect that the grandmotherly woman in a floppy white hat standing in front of them is a cold-hearted crook."

Why take the risk of knocking over a gas station or pulling a bank job, after all, when you can just swipe your score from the purse of Gretchen Soccer Mom while she tries to decide between the bratwurst and the braunschweiger. No weapons, no violence, no small p-o-t-a-t-o-e(-s).



Now if the Mad Hatter Grannies could just go Robin Hood and turn over some of that "bounty" to repay the Kiwi Granny who's out her savings and to compensate the family of the Chicago granny who got jammed into the ground with a leaky melon (allegedly): Hell, the Mad Hatters would still have almost $450,000 left over!



Saturday, May 7, 2011

Friday, May 6, 2011

Burn Victims: Marlon Brando Lams It with Liz & Jacko As the Big Apple, the Flag & Jay Carney Burn...








You just never know what the hell I'm going to talk about on a particular day. Today striking my interest were tales of (1) Pakistanis burning American flags on the streets, (2) slimeball democrat party operatives shitting all over White House press secretary Jay Carney, and (3) an incredible new account of Marlon Brando, Liz Taylor and Michael Jackson driving cross-country to escape New York City on 9/11. And there actually is a loose connection between the three: Osama Bin Laden and 9/11.

(And with those topics in mind, a nod today to the excellent news aggregator website Drudge Report, even if Drudge is a deranged right-winger who slants his site to the far right. So oftentimes, he provides the link, and I just take it from there -- much like today.)

Let's see -- Where To Begin?!?

"First the Tears, Now the Anger"

A truly hilarious site to behold has been Pakistan the past few days, as at first most of the nation actually grieved the death of Osama Bin Laden! No word yet whether their mourning involved chants of, "Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind"...



I mean, just take a gander at those two cryin' goofwads up above shedding tears over that terrorist sleazejacket...



I'll just come right out with it: I don't care what your religion is -- if you shed tears over the death of a subhuman piece of shit such as Bin Laden, then you're no different from him. You're the kind of person who would have mourned Hitler and Stalin's deaths. If the subhuman shoe fits, wear it.

Then Thursday, the grief boiled over into anger! Look out! You know what that means, don't you? Of course -- the obligatory American flag burning across Pakistan. "Burn It to the Ground"...



You know, the people in these Islamic countries really could use a huge dose of originality. The flag burning stuff is so 1979 (much like the current state of America, truth be told).

And I'm not just being a wiseacre over here: I have seen muslims burning American flags so many times now over the years that the impact has long since worn off. It's kind of like allegations of bias in the media: Yawn me a damn river after ya cry me one!

And one final set of thoughts before we leave Bin Laden dead, buried and down there sleeping with the fishes like Luka Brassi (hopefully for good, but something tells me...):



By all accounts, there appears to be the very real probability that the Navy Seals captured an unarmed Bin Laden and then executed him in cold blood. Hey, I got no real problem with that. The scuz deserved it.

But can you just imagine the uproar from the leftist 20 percenters if that idiot W Bush had presided over such an operation? They'd be out in the streets burning American flags themselves!

But since a democrat party member is in the White House, the leftist 20 percenters instead try to defend what happened and trumpet Obama's praises. Hypocrites (as always -- and no different than the republicans). Anyway, enough already about Bin Laden! I'm moving on...

Amazing How the Leftist 20 Percenters Promote Their Slimes But Shit On Their Few Decent Members

I'm intrigued by the account this week of democrat party operatives trashing the performance of new White House press secretary Jay Carney -- primarily based on the troubles he had giving coherent answers to media questions about the muddled facts of the Bin Laden murder. Cutting through the bullshit, here's what they're basically saying: Oh, for the good ol' days when we had a much better liar named Robert Gibbs up there!



Here's how it is: Gibbs was a lying, disingenuous piece of trash. (BTW, hit me, someone, please with the cliche about how since I'm an Independent, I never take any real positions).

In fact, given their similar portly appearances and similar snake-like voices and demeanors, I've always wondered if Gibbs is the long-lost son of sleazy GOP operative Karl Rove. (Let's send Katie Couric to investigate, since she'll soon have plenty of time on her so-called "journalistic" hands).

Gibbs truly was little more than a Propaganda Minister for His Majesty in much the same vein as notorious propaganda ministers of the past from totalitarian regimes. Goebbels? No (not nearly as smart). But Baghdad Bob? That just about nails it. A complete boob, a stooge, a flunky, and a bully. ("I say to you, cat-e-gor-ic-ally, there are no Americans in da Bagdad."):



Jay Carney is no Robert Gibbs. His stuttering and stammering over Bin Laden murder questions should mostly be chalked up to him receiving a lack of concrete and consistent facts from The Boss.

It's been widely reported that Carney (unlike Gibbs) does not have personal access to Obama. He gets all of his info and marching orders second, third or fourth hand or worse. Too often, the White House is sending him out there with conflicting facts in his head and with a gun having no ammunition. Talk about an impossible position -- one that I wouldn't touch "Till the World Ends."



Carney too strikes me as being the sort of guy whom you wouldn't mind knowing in real life. From what I know about him, he passes my "next door neighbor" test, while very few leftist 20 percenters (or right-winger republicans, for that matter) ever do. Would I want Robert Gibbs or Obama living next to me? No thank you. Those cats approach me on the street and try to shake my hand -- I'm running the other direction. I'm funny like that when it comes to lying sacks of shit.

So you want to shit all over someone, democrat party operatives? How about you shit on Obama himself. That would be well deserved. Much more so than Carney. And it might just entice Hillary to make a run next year (Lord help us).

But Good Grief, get a load of all this: Me defending the damn White House press secretary! Must be a full moon tonight.

Brando Made Liz & Jacko Pull Over Every Hour For Eats!

Is this what they call in the TV News business a "kicker"? Regardless: He made them an offer they couldn't refuse. Who would refuse it? 9/11 had just gone down and everyone in NYC who wasn't a local was looking to get the hell out of there.



I can recall co-workers who were there at the time getting in the first rental car they could find and hightailin' it right down I-80 and I-70 towards Missouri. No flights for many days, remember?

So it comes as no real shocker to me to read (see the "Express" link at bottom) that two all time American pop culture icons -- Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson -- joined up in a car with a third icon -- Marlon Brando -- to make a beeline by car straight out of the Big Apple after 9/11 hit.

Taylor and Jackson, of course, were longtime close friends. The story goes that Brando entered the equation because he (like Taylor) was in the City That Never Sleeps to watch a Jackson concert on September 10, 2001. Jackson and Brando were reportedly staying at the same hotel, while Taylor was in a different one.

One funny part of the story is that the threesome's 500-mile drive (which ended in some mysterious location in Ohio) appears to have played out like a sequel to Driving Miss Daisy. Brando and Jacko did all the driving, likely with Liz doing her best Miss Werthan impersonation in the backseat.



My question is just how safe was Liz back there? You can't tell me that Brando or Jacko -- being the celebrity gods that they were -- hardly ever drove an automobile in their lives after maybe their early 20's. Hell, it would come as no surprise to me to learn that neither even had drivers licenses.

And can you just imagine what some of the conversations must have been in that car? Conjures up images of Jackson twisting Brando's arm to launch into his Don Corleone character from Godfather I and (in parody) in The Freshman. ("C'mon, Marlon, just one 'You can act like a man!'").



Brando may have ultimately given in to Jackson's prodding, but I bet only if Jacko delivered a personal rendition of "Billie Jean" right there in the car along with a free moonwalk at the next exit. And I bet the two of them tag-teamed Liz for details on some juicy Richard Burton romps!



One thing we know did happen, as would be very expected: The "rotund" Brando (a nice way of putting it) reportedly annoyed the holy hell out of his two fellow carpoolers by constantly wanting to stop at fast food joints to get his grub on!

And I can see why Brando was the big movie star up there, while I'm just little Joe Missouri down here: You see, I'm a White Castle, McDonald's and Taco Bell man myself. Brando? KFC and Burger King, baby! Forced Liz & Jacko to stop at every single one they came across! Man, I wish just once I could roll like those Hollywood types!



http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/tobyyoung/100086530/jay-carney-is-floundering-under-pressure-say-washington-insiders/

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting! Those Stewardesses Were Fast As Lightning! But Need to Be Faster to Stop Slimeballs from Groping Them (Allegedly)...






If you happen to be a slimeball lout who likes to go around bullying and abusing women, then you probably want to avoid traveling on Hong Kong Airlines -- since them stewardesses be Kung Fu Fightin' like it was 1974! "Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee"!

And hopefully British Airways will be the next airline to go chop shop after an incident from the past week where just such a lout (allegedly) completely ran amok on a stewardess (read on)...



If You Don't Like Me Using that Song, Then You Can Go F*ck Yourself

First, we need a little Prefatory section: I've heard that the Political Correctness Police have recently been all over "Kung Fu Fighting" -- a #1 hit for one-hit wonder Carl Douglas in the fall of 1974.

The song was inspired by the "chopsocky film craze" of the time and utilized a so-called "Oriental Riff" ("Dee-Dee-Dee..."), not to mention lyrics with references to such things as "Chinamen," "Billy Chen" and "little Sammy Chong." Frankly, I've always found the tune to be fairly annoying and forgettable, but one thing's for sure: Once you've heard it, it'll stick in your damn head for at least a day, sort of like a "White Trash Millionaire." (My pleasure, BTW).



Apparently the "Oriental Riff" and lyrics rub some tiny minority of the population the wrong way, leading them to try to impose their will on all the rest of us in terms of what language we can use, which songs we can listen to, etc. (i.e. the very definition of political correctness in most instances).

This bullshit played out recently in Great Britain, where a lounge singer named Simon Ledger was arrested and now faces charges for playing "Kung Fu Fighting" at a bar and "causing offence to a passing man of Chinese origin." (As the linked column aptly puts it: What's next? "Walk Like an Egyptian"? "Turning Japanese"?).

Well, I got news for ya: This ain't Britain (which has no First Amendment) and it sure as hell ain't China! "Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee"!



Besides, no one is more politically correct than me as a general proposition. So let's talk about them hot stewardesses!



They Be as "Funky as Chinamen Billy Chin and Little Sammy Chong"!

Hong Kong Airlines has had an ongoing problem with "drunk and unruly" passengers, having to deal (on average) with several incidents involving such passengers every week. So what to do, the airline asked. Solution: Teach the stewardesses how the karate chop the holy hell of people! What other solution would they possibly come up with?!

So the airline has made it mandatory for all stewardesses to take kung fu lessons -- in particular, the "wing chun form of kung fu used in close-range combat." And it's not like they're having to drag these Treats of the Tarmac kickin' and screamin' down to the the ol' dojo for lessons.

Almost to a stewardess, these babes are reportedly "getting a real kick out of it." They're even using the gimmick in a new airline commercial:



22-year-old Lumpy Tang, for example, is one stewardess who's been really struck by the notion of being a part of "the world's deadliest cabin crew." Lumpy Tang says she "now feels much more confident going about her duties while airborne." "We really like wing chun," Lumpy Tang raved.

On an aside note, all of this talk has really made me thirsty. I wish LT were here right now so that I could order the stewardess to bring me a Tang with two lumps and hold the cream. But I digress.



Now They Can "Give Violent Conduct the Elbow" AND Push Drunken Fatasses Around!

This was fast: One stewardess has reportedly "already put some of her new-found Bruce Lee skills into action on a flight from Beijing to Hong Kong." But it's not what you might think. It didn't involve Lumpy Tang chopping a bunch of lumps into some jerk's mush or going Kwai Chang Caine on someone's ass. Nothing like that.



Instead, the stewardess credited her improved fitness from the kung fu lessons for helping her attend to and move around some big fat drunken tub of goo passenger who was sick. Said a stewardess spokeswoman:

"Normally, a female cabin crew can't handle a fat guy, especially if he's drunk, but because of the [kung fu] training, she can handle it quite easily."

So with their training in hand, these karate-choppin', leg-thrustin' ladies of the sky are now off "on a wing chun and a prayer," ready to either pound or assist the next fat f*ck drunk passenger they encounter -- depending on the situation.



And maybe some of the Hong Kong stewardesses can "walk the earth like Caine on Kung Fu" and transfer over to British Airwaves -- where they're really needed...



The Scumjob Stuck His Grubby Paws Right Up Her Skirt (Allegedly)!

This "cat" was a "little bit frightening": Some total sleazewad lout (allegedly) named Iurii Chumak really had a field day late last week on a British Airways flight from London to New York. This slime (allegedly) first got the flight off to a roaring start by chugging from a bottle of Dewar's whiskey and really lighting in to his wife through a string of verbal abuse.

But then, apparently, one of the flight's stewardesses caught his evil eye. After the stewardess poured Chumak some coffee, she turned away from him and "bent over slightly" to pour coffee for another passenger across the aisle. And that's when all hell broke loose.

The FBI says this scuzbucket Chumak (allegedly) then stuck his meat hooks right up the stewardess' skirt, "grabbed her genital area," and "began to run his fingers back and forth," like some kind S&M freak.



A different "flight attendant" (what's that, precisely? -- I guess that means stewardess) reportedly saw what was going down and immediately slapped "restraints" on Chumak.

Now this genital gropin' creep (allegedly) may have to find new uses for his hands in the local freezer. He faces federal criminal charges, although apparently only misdemeanor ones at this point.

I just wish Lumpy Tang would have been on that flight to chop that invasive hand right off that sleaze Chumak (allegedly). Then he could get one of those hooks-for-a-hand and hopefully sit on his hands in the can and listen to "Kung Fu Fighting" for a long time to come.



"Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee-Dee, Dee-Dee"!



Wednesday, May 4, 2011

They're Going NUTS Out East Over this Osama Thing: First a Drunk Bin Laden Imposter Allegedly Makes Bomb Threat, Then Weed Whacker Attacks Break Out!





They've all gone crazy like that (^^) broad (^^)! OK, I get the very strong emotional connection for the American northeast and east coast when it comes to September 11 and this week's killing of Osama Bin Laden. Hey, Bin Laden's subhuman slimeball minions attacked them, targeting the Big Apple and DC. So naturally, we saw the biggest celebrations over Bin Laden's death in those two cities. But, it is possible to take things a bit too far...

And so it is this week that we start to hear tales of a "bombed Bin Laden" imposter (pictured above) allegedly making a bomb threat at New York City's Idlewild (errr, JFK) Airport as well as weed whacker attacks breaking out in two northeastern states. [I've heard of garden shear outbursts before such as in Zombieland, but weed whackers?!?] Get control of yourselves, people!



"My Name is Bin Laden, and I Have a Bomb in my Bag!"

If he had really been an upstart terrorist with a bomb in his napsack, then "Air France would've made him" just like on Goodfellas, because the damn bag reached the plane and any bomb inside could've gone off! More on that in a minute.

The incident started over the weekend when the fake Bin Laden -- 61-year-old New Yorker Christian Boncorps (pictured above below the real thing) -- "showed up drunk" (really "Rolling in the Deep") at the Air France ticket counter at JFK.



He really just wanted his boarding pass, but nothin' doing on that front! At the ticket counter, an Air France stewardess lady (or it could have been a man, but I like to stay stewardess) started giving the hammered hobo-looking Boncorps the ol' third degree about what he had in his bag. The employee was reportedly concerned he might be trying "to smuggle more booze aboard" his flight.

I guess some trashed tramps really get their rags ruffled at such suggestions, since Boncorps' reaction was allegedly to spout the quote set forth above claiming that he was Osama Bin Laden and that he had a bomb in his bag.

The word "bomb" now having been uttered at an airport, you can probably guess what the reaction was from Barack Obama and Janet Napolitano's TSA gropers (errr, agents), right? Maybe a swift ass-beating followed by a little solitary "Isolation"? Well, if so, you guessed wrong.



These TSA goofs -- apparently too busy groping up little girls and beauty pageant contestants -- didn't even bother to call the cops until 40 minutes later. Prior to that call, TSA allegedly (1) ignored the bomb threat, (2) put Boncorps "through standard pre-flight screening procedures," and (3) even sent the pie-eyed Osama imposter's luggage aboard the damn plane -- apparently without checking it out!

When the cops finally arrived later on, the shit-faced soak Boncorps was just wrapping up his routine screening and "was putting his shoes back on"! Needless to say, cops were furious over TSA's complete mishandling of the situation. The president of a local cop organization really ripped TSA a new one:

"We got lucky that this passenger wasn't a serious threat. Countless lives were placed in jeopardy by the TSA's failure to follow its own security protocols . . . Simply put, the public expects and deserves more."

Ouch. As for blotto boozer and fake terrorist Boncorps, it doesn't sound like cops exactly threw the book at him. He was arrested and had a quick arraignment at which he pleaded guilty for disorderly conduct -- garnering a meager $250 fine. So I guess you can say "bomb" at an airport and basically get away with it? Oh well, at least he's out some booze money.

Trying to "Whack" Out a Cop -- Always a Dumb Move

He didn't want that damn weed whacker, after all. So 28-year-old New Jersey resident Gary Burke loaded up the weedeater and headed to Sears to get his dough back. Only problem? Stupid pesky Lawn & Garden Department was closed (the sort of thing that might make a grown man want to take a weed whacker and "swing it all around fancy crazy!).



So you'd think maybe Customer Service could hook up this dude with his return job? Not so fast! Burke was reportedly told that only Lawn & Garden could service him and that he'd just have to come back later. Haven't these people ever heard the expression, 'the customer is always right'?



Now, with gas prices in Obama's America currently hovering at a national average of around $4.00/gallon, Gary Burke was apparently in no mood to "come back later." When Sears employees refused to process his return, Burke allegedly blew his stack and refused to leave the store peacefully. But unlike TSA agents, Sears employees will actually call the cops, which then happened.

When cops arrived and tried to remove Burke from the store, Burke did the only sensible thing that could be expected of a man in his position: He attacked the cops with his weed whacker (allegedly)! Went Weedeater Bull all over they ass!



Even more specifically, the hit went down with Burke reportedly bashing his yard-grooming device over one of the cop's big melons.

However, working in Burke's favor is the fact that there is no allegation of him actually trying to fire up said weed whacker before pulling the alleged attack. A dangerous piercing weapon right to the mush could've gotten a bit messy, after all -- just ask Bin Laden (that is, if you ever meet up with him in hell).

Now this weedeater-wielding whacko Burke (allegedly) may have to spend some garden-variety time in a place known for having a different kind of yard -- the local hoosegow. He's facing charges of aggravated assault on a cop and unlawful possession of a weapon (the weed whacker).

And that's the only part I don't get: "Unlawful possession"? He wasn't trying to swipe the damn thing. Rather just "whack" out a cop with it (allegedly)!

At Least This Weed Whackin' Weirdo Got His Full Money's Worth (Allegedly)!

Let's head one state northeast to Connecticut: Different state, same madness! Cops there say two landscapers were working at the same home when a dispute arose between them that turned one of the landscapers into a stark-raving Feetch-like bully of the yard (yes, I've used this recently, but it fits here too, plus Robert Loggia is God!).



But at least Feetch only used his fists. Cops say that a fight broke out between the two landscapers, with one of them -- 54-year-old Ramiro Avila -- actually throttling up his weed whacker and going after the other fella with it!



Specifically, the "odd attack" (one way of putting it) allegedly involved Avila "hitting the other man in the head with a running weed whacker."

Yep, those two men took to weed-whacker fighting, and when they pulled them from the floor, Avila's fellow yardman looked like Osama Bin Laden with a couple of pieces gone.



Avila's victim was sent to the hospital with a cut-up face, while Avila may be sent up himself for a spell so that he can cool his weed-whacking engines in the local ice house. That's because cops have busted Avila for second-degree assault.

But again, I don't get the charge: What constitutes a "first-degree assault" in Connecticut, anyway? Maybe a B-52 bombing?



Finally, it's just too bad that the Fake Bin Laden and the two weed-whackin' culprits (allegedly) have to live in different states. Methinks Imposter Osama could use a good haircut (see above), and Burke and Avila got just the tools to pull off the job!

I mean, I'm don't know about Avila, but I think that based on Burke's track record, there's no damn way he's gonna buck up the money to haul his sorry ass (not to mention that of his weed whacker) from Jersey to the City. Leastways, not when that well-oiled wino and fake terrorist is now out all his beer money and can't possibly pay for a good hair whackin'.

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/queens/tsa_lax_on_bombed_bin_laden_M84GPNUcBkVifPSNS0avkO
http://www.poconorecord.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110503/NEWS90/110509924/-1/NEWSMAP
http://www.nbcconnecticut.com/news/weird/Landscaper-Accused-of-Weed-Whacker-Assault-120721039.html

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Good Gazongas! What's Next, "Lactation Lovers Pizza"?: "New Yorkers Sample Cheese Made from Human Breast Milk"!






I've heard of rack of lamb, but rack of Mama? No joking jugs here: A New York City "art" exhibit called "Human Cheese Shop" gave residents an opportunity over the weekend to sample multiple different varieties of "cheese" (pictured immediately above) made from three lactating women's breast milk (links to full story at bottom).

A few days after we saw the news of the federal government devoting yearlong sting operations to taking down badass Amish farmers selling raw cow's milk in Pennsylvania, I look at this New York story and am left to wonder, where's Obama and his federal regulators when we actually really need them! Talk about a real Kick in the Teet:



They Had a Wide Selection

That's correct: If one form of the human cheese didn't exactly strike your fancy, then you had other options at the Michael Mut Gallery in NYC's East Village. There were three different flavors in all: West Side Funk; Midtown Smoke; and Wisconsin Chew. [Apparently, Brooklyn Bleu Bap, Village Veg Curd, Staten Island Sharp Suckle and E.T. (East side Twins) were not on the menu this time around, but stay tuned...].



The early returns indicate that Midtown Smoke was hooters-down the best of the three creations. One meat puppet cheese eatin' local lady called Midtown Smoke "creamy and just pure heaven." Sorry, but that takes "spinning on that dizzy edge" just a bit too far.



Another woman also raved about Midtown Smoke, citing to its insatiably "mild" texture and taste once inserted inside the ol' piehole.

However, Wisconsin Chew (the second flavor) reportedly didn't fare so well with the New Yorkers (what would you expect?), although I could certainly see that taste being more popular with Green Bay Packer Cheeseheads and Wisconsin public sector employees.

For example, one local taster described Wisconsin Chew as too "bland," while another described Chew as having a taste "which apparently reflected the vegetable-filled diet of the woman who provided its milk." Methinks I'd rather eat Dirty Laundry than cheese made from those dirty pillows.



The linked articles are silent as to the third variety, West Side Funk, and whether that flavor may have knocked their nips right off the ol' knockers, just like Midtown Smoke did. So the taste and popularity of Funk remains a bit of a wild-can enigma, truth be told.

Mixed Melons: "Weren't There Any Milkable Cows, Goats, Sheep or Buffalo Available?"

Not everyone in the Big Apple was going bust over this breast milk cheese. "Some people are gagging," admitted exhibit creator Miriam Simun. Indeed, many passersby "seemed perplexed."

For example, one female passerby wasn't exactly Mrs. Fun Bags: "That's so weird," honked local resident Cheryl Coleman. Another local woman, Jocelyn James, liked the Midtown Smoke, but conceded that chowing down on human headlight cheese "does have a stigma."



Why Get Your Cheese from Breastfeeding Bazongas?

That's still the $24,000 tig bitty. One local named Frances Anderson was reportedly so fond of the idea of eating the human cheese that she actually consumed it while wet-nursing her own little tot at the very same time, right there at the damn art gallery! Not cool. As Serge the Art Gallery Attendant might say: "Cover that up! It's like a dog to scrub. Not Sexy!" OH-MY-GOD (you've been warned):





This Anderson character explained that she views dairy products derived from human ta-tas as being preferable to and perhaps even safer that your more traditional bovine-based basic staples: "I know more about the source of this food than going into a supermarket and picking up Cheddar cheese. I don't know what they pumped into that cow."

Really? I wonder how much she knows about what the three lactatin' ladies were pumping into their gullets before their mammaries' milk was turned into dairy drivel? I think I'd stick with the cow. But then again, I don't have jibbies, myself.

Human Chest Puppy Cheese Becoming a Trend?

Perhaps the most startling thing about this story is that "Human Cheese Shop" is not even "that original," reports the New York Daily News.

Just last year, New York Chef (I guess you're supposed to capitalize "chef") Daniel Angere of Chelsea's Klee Brasserie reportedly strapped on and hooked up a breast pump to his nursing wife -- a regular Rose of Sharon -- and used the resulting newborn nectar to "concoct" a Brie cheese faster than a Dust Bowl Joad hits the road.



Angere's Brie cheese from wifey's balcony was eaten by Chelsea's customers "with a fine Riesling" white wine -- giving a whole new meaning to the phrase, "wine and cheese clowns [errr, crowd]."

And this cheesiness isn't merely confined to cheddar and swiss-type dairy products. In London, they reportedly all scream for bazoom-based ice cream. Specifically, the Daily News says that an ice cream parlor in London's Covent Garden offers a vanilla-tasting human "breast-milk gelato" called Baby Gaga to adoring customers! I guess some freaks are just Born This Way.



http://ca.news.yahoo.com/yorkers-sample-cheese-made-human-breast-milk-230909805.html
http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/2011/04/29/2011-04-29_breast_milk_cheese_sure_it_might_be_art_but_that_doesnt_mean_i_want_to_try_it.html?r=news