Criminals With Cajones . . . And A Cop On A Trike

Today, a Philadelphia PD bigwig got up, ate breakfast, prepared for his day, and headed to his work vehicle.

But then he noticed something was a little strange . . .

I wonder if that "Dial 911" decal is actually a cry for help to anyone who might spot people removing wheels from official police vehicles.

Houston, We Have A (Huge) Problem

NASA never ceases to amaze me.

Within the span of the last few years, they've managed some of the most incredible feats, made especially incredible considering they're a taxpayer-funded government agency. One of their latest feats includes losing a laptop.

I know, you're probably thinking that stuff probably happens to about one out of every ten laptop owners. Probably happens to businesses and organizations all the time.

But this situation is a little bit different.

See, this particular laptop includes a few little codes NASA may find useful someday. Codes to the International Space Station (see previous post regarding Space Stations and Swimming Pools). No biggie.

But seriously! This wouldn't be so bad, except they'd already begun the pattern in 2009, losing equipment and devices and gadgets (none of which are exactly cheap, to put it mildly), wrapping up their streak with Loss #48, the laptop containing the ISS codes. You would think someone would say, "Gee, we've been losing a ton of crap. Maybe we should start cracking down."

If they were a business, somebody would have lost a job a long time ago. Someone would have established a Loss Prevention department. Somebody would have done something so another multi-million-dollar item wouldn't suddenly drop out of inventory.

But NASA apparently just shrugs, and Congress keeps handing out the dough. After all, the taxpayers can handle it.

Oh, and this doesn't include the fact that their $58 million-per-year IT security has been breached approximately 54,000 times since 2010. Hey, guys! Yeah, you! The ones who send probes to the outer reaches of the solar system and calculate distances between stars! Ever hear of FIREWALLS AND ANTIVIRUS PROGRAMS? One trip to Best Buy could save you a lot of headaches. Where the heck is that $54 million a year going?

No wonder we haven't put anyone on the moon since 1972. We've had Laurel and Hardy running the show.

I hope after all this investment with my own hard-earned dollars I'll at least get the secret to the Rubik's Cube out of the deal. It seems they've got enough guys at NASA working on that.

WORN-OUT JOKE ALERT! Urine Trouble Now . . .

So say you're hangin' at a bar in Georgia around closing time. You've had a few (or more) drinks, you're havin' a good old time, the stars are shining, the moon's bright . . .

And suddenly it starts to rain.

And there isn't a cloud in the sky.

That was the mystery that confronted early-morning Georgia revelers at 2 o'clock AM Saturday. A few of them probably thought it was just the alcohol messing with their heads.

But the answer came to them quickly when they looked up, squinted through the falling rain, and saw that the rain emanated from the urethra of an intoxicated University of Georgia student standing on a parking deck above.

Oh, and so was his buddy. Who also was spitting. Off the deck. Onto the patrons' heads.

Panic ensued. Sort of like happens in Japan whenever Godzilla decides to take a walk. Only this wasn't Godzilla. It was worse. It was pee.

Anyway, the cop who arrived on the scene cuffed the two young lushes, whereupon they were charged with public intoxication and urinating. Gee, if they press charges for public intoxication shouldn't they have slapped handcuffs on the pee-rain victims too? After all, it was two in the morning.

But the urinating charges should look lovely on their records. I can just see them filling out job applications.

Have you been convicted of any felonies? Yes
If so, please explain in detail:   .................................

Awkward.

Hey, at least he saved all those partiers a shower.

Touching . . . And A Little Weird?

Getting wedded over and over for years? Sweet. Dressing up like . . . THAT . . . to get married? At THAT age? Yeesh.

Seriously, a wedding like that would leave me feeling all shook up, even if it was my 102nd time doing it.

Not a whole lot needs to be said here.

Born In 1928, Woman Turns 21 In 2012 -- TIME TRAVEL!

Marcelin Corcoran of La Crescent, MN is has at long last reached the age of majority: She's old enough to buy liquor or firearms. She can play any game in a casino.

Assuming, of course, that her walker doesn't get in the way.

Doesn't she look GREAT?

Hey, cut her some slack, people. Come on. She may be only 21 years old, but those years have been rough.

I'm sure I got you all excited with the title of this post ("Oh boy, FINALLY Hiro Nakamura's secret has been unveiled!" [If you're asking "Who's Hiro Nakamura?" you're likely not enough of a nerd to have gotten excited at all]). But her aging secret is simple: Be born on February 29th.

Turns out Marcelin only gets a birthday every four years due to having been born on February 29th, that one annoying little day that gets tacked onto the end of February each Leap Year and messes up life for everybody (if you don't count the presidential elections). So, when one does the math like kids knew how to do back in 1928, it figures that February 29th, 2012, is Marcelin's 21st birthday.

So next time someone whines that they can't WAIT to turn 21 and it's SO FAR AWAY, just share the epic tale of Marcelin Corcoran. Not only did she have to wait longer to reach 21, but she also acquired a lot more wrinkles along the way.

A dose of perspective, courtesy The Blurt Blog.

I Love You, Hun (You Pathetic Waste) . . .

Nabuko Kan, wife of Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan, has been an excellent helpmeet to her husband in his difficult job.

Indeed, who else, when their husband’s popularity is waning, will rush to the rescue with reassuring deeds such as stating (publicly, of course) that she would never marry him if she had to do it all over again.

Yeah. Apparently, when poor old Naoto returns home after a hard day battling dissenters, he still has to deal with his wife.

But hey! Look at the upside. Her book, What On Earth Will Change In Japan Now You Are Prime Minister, not only vies for status of the longest title in the world, but also occupies bookstands across Japan. What a lucky guy to be married to a gal who can write!

She even rags on him for dressing without taste and trying to do his job sans leadership skills.

It’s so bad that he’d rather go to work and battle politicians than come home to dinner.

But it’s only because she loves him so much, you see. She drives him crazy at home so his actual job doesn’t seem so bad.

Apparently it’s Japanese tradition to minimize the achievements of the people you love, but Mrs. Kan definitely has taken it to a whole new level.

I just know Prime Minister Kan’s heart is melting.

She’d better check her sushi, just in case he decides to administer his own love in the form of strychnine.

Long Ago, Favre, Favre Away . . .

And so, having ended the football season with 19 interceptions, shoulder, foot, and head injuries, and a scandal of Tiger Woods proportions, NFL legend Brett Favre has announced that it's time he hangs up his cleats.

Again.

Well, I would agree that it's time to call it quits. For being such a huge sports star, Favre has shown us all how to go out with a fizzle.

But given that this is his third time "retiring", the track record shows that he may decide to hobble back onto the field next year, ball in one hand and cell phone in the other.

Why? The money? The camera time? The opportunity to meet chicks? He's already made a name for himself, not only through his long-past glory days, but also by combining Michael Jordan's retirement flip-flopping and Tiger Woods' loving ways. What more blood could he possibly squeeze from this withered, worn-out pigskin turnip?

It's a matter of doubt now whether any team will want him at all. When he signed on with the Jets, he was still a coveted asset. When the Vikings got him, they had hope that his stint with the Jets was just a bad year. Now it's apparent that he's a washed-up has-been.

But hey, if he decides retirement just isn't his thing, and some sorry team decides they want him, he could make history once again as the first QB with a walker.

And he might start a movement to switch NFL play to flag football, since contact sports don't seem to be agreeing with him these days.

It could be interesting.

Beat It, Discovery Channel!

The Discovery Channel has canceled the airing of their documentary, "Michael Jackson's Autopsy: What Really Killed Michael Jackson." The documentary was scheduled to air in Europe this month.

The show was scrapped after Jackson's family raised an uproar, calling it "disrespectful". "Macabre" would have been another good word.

Purportedly, viewers would have been treated to dramatic narration underlining a reenactment of the pop icon's autopsy as we heard (for the zillionth time) about the debate over how Jackson really died.

Seriously . . . the guy's dead. Just leave him alone. Plus, we've seen plenty of autopsies acted out on TV. Show of hands: Who here has seen CSI? There you go. My point exactly. Snooooooorrrrrrre . . .

However, I'm considering pitching a new, far more unique idea to Discovery: A reenactment of Michael Jackson's myriad plastic surgery operations.

Heck, they could turn THAT into a miniseries!

My, Haven't We Matured

So somebody actually took the time (and, presumably, government grant money) to seek out the world's oldest jokes.


The oldest joke found so far dates from 1900 BC Sumeria (Iraq).


Talk about ancient, right? And when we think of old jokes, we think of philosophical quips. You know, the kind of stuff you read from Shakespeare in literature class, and the teacher has to inform you that what you just read was a joke. And then, when the joke was explained to you, you didn't laugh because an explained joke isn't nearly as funny, especially when it went over your head in the first place.


1900 BC is WAY more ancient than Shakespeare, so, logically, the humor in that kind of culture should be so archaic even Shakespeare would be left scratching his literate head.


Noop. Even a contemporary six-year-old would giggle at this. Contemporary grown-ups, however, would probably shake their heads in disgust.


"Oo!" you say, wriggling in anticipation. "What's the joke? How does it go? Tell me! Tell me!"


Here you go:

Something that has not happened since time immemorial; a young woman did not fart in her husband's lap.

Hee hee! Funny, right?


-crickets chirping-


I have a hunch ancient Sumerian comedians hired writers to cook up their jokes, sorta like David Letterman does.


This sounds like something out of a Top Ten List.


"Top Ten Things That Haven't Happened Since Time Immemorial!"


(ding!)


"Number Ten! A woman farting in her husband's lap!"


One problem -- they didn't have canned laughter to fill in the bored silence in 1900 BC. Dave wouldn't have made it back in the day.

Lady Gaga Acts Mature . . . For A Few Seconds

During a show in Washington DC this past week, pop wacko -- I mean, icon -- Lady Gaga actually halted her show in the middle of "Monster" to interfere in a catfight between two concertgoers. She halted the music, rebuked the squabblers, then asked to make sure if they were okay.

"I don't know who hit who," she said, sounding much like a mother standing over her six-year-old children.

This is reminiscent (in some remote ways) to a Tim McGraw concert a couple of years back, in which Tim spotted a guy pawing at a girl, who was not welcoming the attention. Tim physically hauled the guy (who turned out to be drunk) onto the stage and had his guards haul him out of there. Then he went on singing "Indian Outlaw".

But here is where things take a different turn. Lady Gaga, after emphasizing that "we're all about peace and unity and love here" struck a pose with arms over her head and hip out (in a tight black one-piece) and asked in a sultry voice, "Do you think I'm sexy?"

Oh, pu-leeeeeze . . .

Just when she was about to look halfway mature, she caught herself just in time and bounced back into her fragmented style. What the HECK? Who breaks up a fight just to follow up by asking if they're considered sexy?

TWICE?

After assuring the audience that she thought they were sexy too, she spun around and fell to the stage, where she lay in a pose reminiscent of Madonna in "Like A Virgin", where she proceeded say, "Does anybody want to know what I hate more than anything? I hate the truth. In fact, I hate the truth so much I prefer a giant dose of bulls*** any day."

So . . . when people cheered as you asked if they thought you were sexy, would you have preferred that they boo? Were you lying when you said, "I think you're sexy." Is your show really NOT about peace and love and unity?

Nothing made sense here, much like one of her out-of-a-bad-dream music videos. Too bad she had to ruin the moment by acting just as childish as the showgoers whose fight she broke up.

As Jerry Seinfeld put it, "You know what you get when you remove an 'a' from her name? Lady Gag."

I dunno, Jerry . . . how could her appearance on the cover of Vogue in a raw-meat bikini possibly be gaggy?

Lady Gaga's brush with maturity, then her (over?)compensation for it.

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1.02.28

Romanian Witches Dodge New Law For A Spell

Romanian lawmakers just recently rejected a proposal from the Democratic Liberal Party to impose a tax on witches and fortune tellers.

The new law would also require these capitalists of the spirit world to produce receipts (Palm reading: $10; Tarot card reading: $10; Exorcism: $50; Love potion: $30 -- Total: $100.00) and hold them responsible for wrong predictions and other screw-ups (Fortunetelling Witch Misreads Palm; Uses Wrong Tarot Deck; Exorcises Demon Which Falls In Love With Exorcee When Love Potion Misfires).

No doubt, since the popular decision that vampires only exist in the Twilight world, Romania has grown dull and boring. The new law would have really livened things up.

Especially since, as lawmakers believed, if the law had passed, those who voted for the bill risked being cursed by the witches.

Shoot, what country couldn't use having a few legislators turning into toads or having their gonads wither up and fall off?

Yes, the passage of that law could have done great things for Romania.

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1.02.28

Riding Naked For The Planet

Hundreds of people come rolling down a Philadelphia street on bicycles. People watching from the sidewalk, from windows, and from cars are hooting, laughing, pointing, snapping pictures. You take a closer look at the cyclists as they get closer.

And you realize that the cyclists are . . . (gasp) naked.

What’s the first thing that comes to your mind?

Cleaner air, of course.

Which is good, because that’s exactly what these nude nuts are trying to do. The Philly Naked Bike Ride is an annual event in September that takes place to promote “bicycling awareness and  cleaner air”.

Of course, the fact that some people just like to get out there and strut it all had absolutely nothing to do with it.

After pedaling together for several miles through the City of Brotherly Love, the cyclists wheeled off to their homes, leaving the populace laughing, groaning, texting, uploading.

Yup. Everybody sure talked for a long time about cleaner air after that.

All sarcasm aside, there’s no doubt the cyclists accomplished one thing: They certainly raised bicycling awareness.

Hey, who wants to take the kids to Philly next year?

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1.02.28

Accept The Apology, Taylor -- Or Else!

It's been a year since rapper Kanye West barged into Taylor Swift's VMA acceptance speech and left her stammering.

Now he's making it up to her in the most humble gesture imaginable.

"I've written a song for Taylor, and it's so beautiful," he says.

Aww . . . a song HE wrote, for TAYLOR to perform. And he, the writer, has proclaimed that it's "so beautiful". The selflessness and humility bring tears to one's eyes.

Oh, and it doesn't end there. If Taylor won't accept it and perform it, then goshdarn it, he'll perform it himself.

What happened to a card and maybe some flowers? It almost sounds like he's gonna apologize with a display of his self-adored talents, and force it on her if she doesn't like it.

And seriously -- a rapper writing a song for a country artist? It's sorta like an impressionist painter having Pablo Picasso paint something the impressionist cooked up in his own imagination. It's asking for a clash of styles. Big time.

I dunno . . . right now all I can see is Taylor Swift cringing and smiling in embarrassment and secretly wishing she would die while Kanye West makes a fool of himself. Again.

Those VMA's are getting more and more interesting all the time.

General Rule Of Thumb: If You Want To Buy Pot, Don't Text The Sheriff

Picture this: You’re minding your own business on an otherwise normal day, and you get the following text --

hey dawg do u have a $20 i can buy rite now?

That’s what happened to Sheriff Leo Dutton of Lewis and Clark County in Montana.

A teenager, eager to get his experimental paws on some dope, had shot a text to (he thought) a pot-dealing buddy. Only one problem: He’d punched in a wrong digit and ended up texting the cops.

Oops.

Sheriff Dutton and a detective set up a meet with the teen and his equally experimental buddy at a local store. The kids turned up with one adult, who turned out to be the oblivious father to one of the boys.

The detective walked up to the boys and showed his badge.

One of the boys fainted on the spot.

No charges or fines came out of the matter once the parents of the two boys were made aware of the situation.

My question is, why wasn’t Dope-Dealin’ Dan on the boys’ speed dial?

Perhaps when you’re using dope, you are what you smoke.

Stephen Hawking Warns About The Dangers Of Alien Contact

Stephen Hawking, that famous ultranerd/astrophysicist, expressed a novel concept recently on the Discovery Channel.

Earthlings should avoid alien contact at all costs because in all likelihood the aliens would only attack, raid our planet's resources, and depart.

Uh, thanks, Steve, but we already knew that. We've seen the movie.

But what are the odds of an actual alien race existing somewhere out there?

According to his modestly self-proclaimed "mathematical brain", the odds are quite high.

Again, we already knew that. Anyone who lives in New York City or Los Angeles has experienced several different alien invasions within the past few decades (and the rest of us, in turn, watched it all unfold on the big screen).

So how is this big news? Why did the Discovery Channel ask Stephen Hawking to expound on this when they could have just asked a film director from Hollywood and gotten the same response?

Besides, the Discovery Channel should be more than aware that we face a more immediate danger than resource-depleting aliens -- how about gun-wielding, bomb-wearing, overpopulation-crazed envirokids who go homocidal when they see an episode of "Kate"?

However, based on Hawking's shattering announcement, it might be a good idea not to let your kid bring home an M&M-munching, bug-eyed alien if he finds one. Just shoot it and burn the corpse.

Frankenstein Monster Attacks At Country Concert!

Wouldn't the above headline look simply smashin' on the cover of the National Enquirer?

The funny thing is, it really happened.

Toby Keith was performing in Cincinnati, Ohio when a really gung-ho fan named Forrest Frankenstein (yes, that's his real name) took "let's get drunk and be somebody" to a whole new level. He commenced raising cain and proving he's as good as he once was.

When police arrived on the scene, he threatened to, presumably, "put a boot up your a** -- it's the American way". They cuffed him and stuck him in the back of a squad car. But Frankenstein wasn't done yet. He proceeded to bang his head against the partition, thus ending up with a horizontal gash across his forehead that made him look a bit like -- well, like the Frankenstein monster.

When Frankenstein appeared in court to "talk about me", he insisted that he was so drunk he doesn't remember the incident.

A good caption for his mug shot might read, "How Do You Like Me Now?".

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.