Stuffed In With The Stuffed Animals

Ever look at a stuffed animal and think, “Aaaaawww, it looks so CUTE! And so REAL!”

That’s what Bangkok security officers thought when scanning a suitcase full of stuffed animals boarding a plan to Iran.

I mean, the stuffed tiger had a skeleton and everything!

Upon closer examination, they found that the Tai woman who owned the luggage had sedated a two-month-old tiger cub and was trying to smuggle it out of the country among a slew of (other?) stuffed animals.

Oops. Guess she forgot about the miracle of the x-ray.

The woman has been arrested, presumably for kitty-napping (not to be confused with catnapping, which in most countries is still legal).

What was she thinking? Hadn’t she considered that an x-ray can pick up tigers as well as humans?

Sounds like she failed to Tai up the loose ends of her plan.

Sumos Get High-Tech

You’re huge, you’re obese, you make a rhino look tiny, and your livelihood depends on it.

What prevents you from integrating into the modern technological world?

Big fingers.

Why? You can’t text.

This is bad. Really bad.

So what do you do?

Get your boss to give you an iPad, of course.

Such is the dilemma (and resulting solution) rocking the ranks of the Japan Sumo Association. Sumo wrestlers have a tough time punching the tiny keys on cell phones, their chubby fingers tending to hit multiple keys at once.

In order to improve communication among the wrestlers and JSA officials, sumo wrestlers are being issued the latest iFad -- the iPad.

Oversized touch screen keys on the iPad will allow sumos to develop texter’s thumb just like the members of the not-so-grotesquely-sized world.

Previously to this, sumos were restricted to the primitive means of communication known as fax, email, and telephone (talking into telephones, that is).

But now sumos can fit into society once again.

“ROTFL -- and trying to figure out how to get back up.”

Poor, Persecuted, Mature Lindsey Lohan

Dina Lohan, Lindsey Lohan's mom, is angry.

Lindsey doesn't deserve the 90 days of jail time mandated by a judge.

Lindsey has matured. She's grown up. All the negative stuff we've heard about her is sensationalized trash.

Dina insists that Lindsey has matured since her youthful indiscretions, and doesn't deserve the results of her latest run-in with the law.

Okay. Let's assume the two-time-DUI Lindsey has indeed grown up.

Remind me why she got a 90-day jail sentence (of which, I might add, she only served 13)?

And why does she have to undergo rehab, as per court mandate?

Oh yeah. That's right.

DRUGS.

Most people wouldn't call going from DUI's to drug rehab a sign of maturity.

They'd call it something like escalation. Or maybe a worsening of symptoms. Folks who do this stuff are generally considered individuals of poor judgment, at the very least.

But Dina knows Lindsey is an exception. Lindsey is a responsible adult -- a misunderstood, persecuted, responsible adult haphazardly and evilly singled out by the media for no apparent reason.

Of course, unbiased observers such as you and me knew that already.

Gimme My Nuggets!

This video doesn't need much explanation.

Police in Toledo recently released this security footage, much to the hilarity of all who saw it.

Apparently this nutjob REALLY likes her McNuggets.

She went to McDonalds early in the morning when the breakfast menu was the only thing going. She drove right up to the drive-thru window demanding McNuggets NOW.

She was told, too bad. McNuggets wouldn't be served until closer to lunchtime.

Melodi Dushane went berserk, as you can see above.

I've heard of people flipping out because they couldn't get a drug fix, or losing their cool because they REALLY needed that cigarette and couldn't have it -- but THIS is definitely a close competitor for the most loony withdrawal rage I've ever seen.

Oh well. Maybe she'll get all the McNuggets she wants while she serves her two-month jail sentence.

A Little Bit Of Fame Can Be Way Too Much

Steve Holmes, England, kinda likes rap artist Kanye West.

When Kanye joined Twitter, Holmes was among the 461,000-odd people who began following him.

Kanye randomly chose just one person to follow on Twitter -- Steve Holmes.

Pretty cool, huh? I mean, how many everyday, average Joes end up with a celebrity following them on Twitter?

Holmes geeked out.

And then the nightmare began.

Holmes’ number of Twitter followers spiked to over 6,000. News media inundated Holmes, asking for interviews. Wannabe artists flooded Holmes’ email inbox with questions for Kanye West, even sending music samples for critique and/or sponsorship. One person sent Holmes a music video.

Holmes is overwhelmed and regretting that he even heard of Kanye West. As he said himself, he doesn’t even like the guy all that much.

Who would, especially after Kanye’s antics at the VMA’s, when he deliberately stole Taylor Swift’s thunder? (Just Google “Kanye West Taylor Swift” for the full story.)

Okay, so what are these people thinking? Put yourself in the shoes of a TV or newspaper or magazine interviewer. There’s only so much juice you can squeeze out of this story. Ordinary guy being followed on Twitter by Kanye West. That’s it. Big deal.

And who in their right mind thinks ordinary, average guy Steve Holmes is going to have any influence over Kanye West? “Here, check out this music from somebody I don’t know and let him know, through me, what you think.”

Yeah. I don’t think Kanye would bother.

This kind of mentality is actually a little screwed up. One ordinary guy gets a tenuous connection to a celebrity (and not exactly a role model celebrity at that), and suddenly ordinary guy becomes flooded with attention.

He doesn’t KNOW Kanye West. Hasn’t worked with him, spoken with him to any extent, didn’t even grow up in the same country as Kanye West. Yet everyone wants their piece of Steve Holmes’ nebulous pie.

Don’t people have anything better to do?

Apparently not.

Holmes has since turned off the Twitter app on his phone, seeking peace from the brouhaha. “I really have no desire for this attention . . . Surprisingly not everyone wants to be famous,” he tweeted.

Fame is a disease, apparently.

My question is: If you really don’t want this attention, why don’t you just cut all ties with Kanye West? Get rid of the source of the problem, and the problem disappears.

Maybe having a rapper follow you on Twitter is worth the annoyance after all?

Bristol -- Helping Sarah's Public Image

I’ve already made some snide remarks about a prominent Democrat’s daughter.

It’s only fair I move on to a prominent Republican’s daughter.

And who better to pick on than the daughter of the GOP’s sweetheart, Bristol Palin?

You probably heard of 19-year-old Bristol’s announcement that she was engaged (again) to her baby’s father, Levi Johnston. That announcement was made official on July 14.

You probably also heard of the engagement’s termination (again), also made official on July 14.

The media is lapping this one up. Love! Intrigue! Betrayal!

First Bristol made things a little awkward for her mom by getting pregnant at about the time the then-vice-presidential candidate was touting her convictions about teen abstinence.

Since then, Bristol has attempted to smooth the awkwardness over by getting engaged to Levi -- then breaking up with him -- then getting engaged to him again and breaking up with him again practically on the same day.

Wow.

Yeah, you’re really helping out your mom’s attempt to build a Mayberry RFD public image ahead of the 2012 elections.

Sarah Palin has some backpedaling to do.

First of all, if I were to give Sarah some advice, I would start by telling her to scrap the whole “perfect family” façade. It ain’t exactly working.

Second, I’d tell her to go for the “average, dysfunctional, drama-saturated, can’t-keep-a-commitment, my-teenage-daughter-is-pregnant American family” look. Reasons? One: That’s what the Palin household is. Just cut the crap and admit it. Two: If you want to identify with the average American family (i.e., potential voters), this is the way to do it. You’re walking their walk, you’re living their life.

But I suppose that would mean going for the “honest politician” look. That, of course, would be declaring to the American public that you’re full of it, since we all know there’s no such thing.

Yup, the Palin clan is in a bit of a tough spot.

All thanks to Bristol and her sound judgment regarding sex and relationships.

I wonder if somewhere about now, Sarah is swatting Bristol on the back of the head.

“Is there anything ELSE stupid you can do?”

Well . . . she could always become her mom’s publicist.

"Vote for my mom! She may not be able to make me toe the line, but she'll do a great job running an entire country!"

Oh yeah. I'm sold.

The International Space Swimming Pool

Okay, so say you and several neighbors decide you all want to chip in together on a community swimming pool.

The pool will cost $160,000, and let’s say there are sixteen neighbors, including yourself, in on this plan.

That means a cost of $10,000 for each person.

But you’re already in debt. You owe over a million dollars.

Wouldn’t you agree that investing in a swimming pool would not be a smart financial decision?

More bluntly, it would be stupid.

Sixteen nations chipped in on ISS, the International Space Station. This project’s total cost was $100 billion.

Let’s assume those 16 nations divided the cost evenly (that isn’t likely, but let’s say that was the case). Breaking out the calculator . . .

$625 million per country.

This isn’t even figuring in the cost of sending people up there to man the station, the supplies, the administration, the maintenance, and the repairs.

Currently, international crews are scrambling to fix some major issues on the Space Station. How much will these repairs cost?

God knows.

The United States is in debt like never before. People are losing jobs, losing homes. We’ve seen a rise in people standing on street corners with cardboard signs.

Never mind that. We have important stuff to do. We have to fix the Space Station.

Going back to the swimming pool analogy, what would you do if you had to choose between pulling yourself out of debt or building a recreational spot? Opt out of the swimming pool project, or go ahead with it?

I don’t think you have to be an economics whiz to figure this out.

But hey, what do I know? I don’t think like a bureaucrat.

I’m sure whoever appropriates NASA funding knows what’s best for our struggling populace. If they decide fixing an orbiting chunk of metal is more important than fixing the economy, that must be the case.

After all, to question the bureaucrats would mean questioning our own intelligence in voting these yahoos into office.

And nobody wants to go there . . .

Bill Cosby . . . And Life After Death

It seems celebrities have the power to rise from the dead.

Repeatedly.

The internet has just recently exploded with frenzied announcements that comedy legend Bill Cosby has died.

For the second time this year.

Google searches are blazing with search phrases such as “Bill Cosby dead” (and its variations). “Bill Cosby died” is the number one trend on Twitter.

The Twitter-savvy Bill Cosby freaked out internet gossip-hounds by Tweeting from the grave -- or so they thought -- to “rebuttal” the rumor.

Never mind about proper word usage. Bill is back. And he’s going to interview with Larry King to prove it.

Bill Cosby isn’t the first celebrity to suffer untimely death at the hands of internet hoaxers.

Think of some annoying celebs, just off the top of your head.

Tom Cruise . . . Of course.

Miley Cyrus . . . She never ceases to bug people.

And of course, the currently prevalent teen sensation, Justin Bieber.

That’s just to start the list.

All these people are faces and voices you encounter practically every day -- on the screen, on tabloid covers, on the radio, online . . . EVERYWHERE!

Aren’t you sick of it already? Me too.

And, I’m guessing, so are several internet rumor-starters/hoaxers.

Cruise, Cyrus, and Bieber have all died multiple times thanks to the ever-accurate announcements of forums, Twitter, Facebook, and blogs, only to rise from the grave to assure people that they had never died in the first place.

Darn it!

Just when we begin to entertain hopes that the rumor might be true, they’re dashed to the earth.

But today was a good day. We would have genuinely missed Bill Cosby.

Let’s just hope we don’t see any Tweets from Michael Jackson.

Like A Surgeon (General)

Rumor has it, after a recent photo of Madonna holding a cigarette, that the pop/rock/sex icon has resumed the habit.

Madonna denies it.

Speculation abounds: Is she lying? Is she hiding a filthy, unhealthy habit from the world?

Or is she telling the truth? Her publicist has said the photo in question was simply a promo for an upcoming film in which Madonna is to appear, and that the death stick was nothing more than a prop.

These are the things journalists are scrambling to cover. The answer to such mysteries is what keeps the paparazzi snapping away. The search for the truth is what motivates readers of magazines and online gossip columns to get up in the morning.

Make your own breakfast, kids -- I'm trying to find out if Madonna is smoking.

Americans don't have enough going on in their own lives to fret about and keep them awake at night.

They need to track the health habits of celebrities.

I mean, if Madonna dies of lung cancer, what will become of us all?

This is serious stuff.

Now here's the really disturbing part, the point that makes me question my own humanity: I DON'T CARE.

What's wrong with me? Why don't I discuss this with my wife while we sort bills? Why don't I stare out the window and speculate over Madonna and cigarettes? Why don't I regularly Google "Madonna" and "smoking" in hopes of finding the most recent develpoment on the issue?

Am I emotionally dead? Am I in some sort of apathetic state that makes me indifferent to things that apparently matter to the rest of the world? Why is it that I rate world events, philosophical beliefs, and the contents of my refrigerator as more pressing and relevant to my life than a celebrity's decision to resume smoking (or not)?

Maybe I should start examining these things in more detail.

Perhaps the actions of the stars do hold influence over my life after all.

But until I find this to be true, I'll resume plucking my nosehairs and trying to raise my family wiith solid values.

I know. I'm a backwards Philistine.