news

by

Blowing Hot Air

Just in case you live under a rock and missed The Weather Channel’s overly dramatic hurricane Florence coverage, here it is.   The hurricane had devastating effects in some areas; by no means am I belittling that or trying to play that down. However, this meteorologist’s sad performance devalues those who have taken some real falls, on live TV, for the sake of the story, like this weatherman getting swept away by hurricane Sandy, this reporter hit by a donkey, or this oldie but goodie, the news reporter being hit with a skateboard.

To be fair, weather forecasters have been doing this for decades.  Expecting a dusting of snow?  Amp it up, turn it into all-day coverage, and stick your ruler into snow drifts… even if your crew has to shovel an ever-growing perimeter for hours to create a mountain mole-hill of snow for your epic broadcast.

After all, it’s well known that the weathermen (and presumably weatherwomen) are notorious stock holders in bread and toilet paper companies; when they are feeling a little light in the wallets, they pour it on for their viewers prompting the Grocery Snow Dash.  Never mind the obvious; if people weren’t eating all that bread, they wouldn’t need all the toilet paper. Hey, I’m just saying.

by

Abandonment Issues

Okay, I know I’ve been quiet the past few days – the only excuse I have is, it’s been a bit chaotic on my side of the world. As excuses go, that one’s not too shabby. But have no fear, you’ll soon be regaled with the craziness that is my life. Lucky you! In the meantime, I thought I would leave you with a rant. I haven’t ranted in a while, so face it, we’re due.

I have to say that every now and then, something comes along that makes me wonder if humans are truly the most evolved species, as experts claim.    Take this incident, for example … dogs abandoned on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, by their despicable owner.

This hurts my heart on so many levels.  Those dogs are terrified, and looking to their owner for direction.  You can see the confusion in their eyes when she leaves them.  How heartless do you have to be to take an innocent animal who depends on you and dump them on the side of the road?

The look on the woman’s face speaks volumes about her personally.  She doesn’t have an ounce of regret in her expression.  The only thing she regrets, I’m sure, is being caught by the Good Samaritan.

Was it a boyfriend, making her choose between the dogs and himself?  Sorry, sir, you would lose that gamble every time if it was me. Maybe she just got tired of caring for them or couldn’t afford to feed them any longer.  Was she too proud to take them to the shelter?  How did she think leaving them on the side of the road was any better?

I find it interesting that she took one of the dogs to the local shelter after she had dumped them.  I’d like to think she had a twinge of conscience, a moment of humanity, or a sense of guilt and went back to find them.

More likely, though, she probably was afraid that she would be caught and punished for her thoughtless, selfish behavior if she didn’t turn herself in voluntarily.  I am not sure anything close to a soul exists in someone who would do this. Quite frankly, I also blame the driver … not as much as the owner, mind, but still. How could they witness what was happening and say nothing, do nothing?

If it sounds like I’m being harsh, well, yeah, I am.

I can’t imagine living in a world where people leave babies in dumpsters, kill each other because one driver cut off another on the freeway, and abandon animals.  This is not the world I want to wake up to.  Every morning I turn on the news, open social media, or listen to a morning show on the radio hoping that the day before would be free of atrocity and heartbreak.

And every morning, I am thoroughly disappointed.

I find comfort in the fact that two out of four of these dogs have already found forever homes, and I know the other two will as well.  But I wonder if they ever miss the woman who abandoned them.  I wonder if they watch for her out of the window, tails wagging, hoping to see her car pull up in the driveway of the place they now consider home. Or maybe they realize all too well they’re better off now, without her.

Mostly, though, I wonder if the woman who dumped them like so much garbage at a dead-end, on a cloudy, grey day feels regret, and I wonder if she ever replays the moment when she closed the car door and saw them looking at her in fear, confusion, and expectation before she left them.

I hope she does, and I hope it haunts her dreams.

Because it sure as hell haunts mine.

by

When Aragogs Attack!

I recently read a news story about an incident in Australia that sent shivers down my spine.  It wasn’t a “new” news story, but it was certainly news to me. Police in Sydney were flooded with calls from concerned neighbors who heard what sounded like a tremendous domestic dispute.  They reported and a man shrieking, “I’m going to kill you.  You’re dead. Die!  Die!” All of this was accompanied by the sounds of crashing furniture and things being smashed. It sounded as though someone was…well, being killed.

That, however, is not what terrified me. I mean, hell, I see that every day on Law and Order: Criminal Intent. It’s what the police found when they arrived. A distraught man who was out of breath and quite flushed opened the door. The police demanded, “Where’s your wife?” He told them that he wasn’t married.  “Then, where’s your girlfriend?” He told them that he didn’t have one.  “The neighbors told us they heard a woman screaming in here.”  The man confessed, “That was me.  I was screaming.”

click for story

After inspecting the home, the police came out and explained what was going on to the to the concerned neighbors. “It was a spider,” they said. “A really, really big one.  And he really, really hates spiders.” The terrified man had been chasing the large spider around, trying to hit it with insect spray, knocking over tables and shelves in the process. He was definitely an arachnophobe. I mean, he is in Australia after all. I think they have more man-killing spiders per capita than anywhere else in the world. Australia definitely produces their fair share of “WTF, stay away from me!” kind of animals.

I am not an arachnophobe.  Nor am I an arachnophile.  I’m arachno-neutral. Or at least, I was. Till along came the Huntsman spider – which I believe was the culprit in the above-mentioned terror-filled story.  Now here is the part of the story that truly reminds me of some of those B-horror movies I love so much and what scared me the most about this story. Huntsman spiders can grow to have a leg span of almost one foot. They are ugly creatures.  I mean, I’m sorry, I feel for the poor things, but yeah, they’re not cute. They bite, but only if provoked…which I for one am thankful for — AND they don’t fly, thank whatever God was put in charge of creating spiders. People in Australia have taken to calling them Aragogs, the deadly spiders of Harry Potter fame. You can’t really blame them. If I woke up to find this thing in my house, I think I’d be calling it some names too…though perhaps not such a literary one.

When I first read about the poor man in Sydney who woke the neighbors, I got a good laugh from it. But then, after a little visualization, I decided that maybe it wasn’t quite so funny after all.  Imagine walking into your kitchen and finding a fuzzy creature the size of a dinner plate walking across your counter top, and you don’t own a cat (or at least not one with 8 legs). I’m quite sure the neighbors would hear me. Hell, I think the residents of the adjacent states would hear me. So, yeah. Bless the citizens of Australia because if this is the shit they have to deal with, they deserve our awe and our admiration.

Although I do sort of feel sorry for the poor spider…I mean, can you imagine just going about your spider-y life, then mistakenly wandering into the wrong house (I mean, come on! Who hasn’t done that after a full night of carousing and drinking!?) and then having some lunatic chase you around trying to smash furniture over  your head?

by

You Want Picante?? I’ll Give You Picante!!

I saw this on the newswire the other day, and be forewarned, it’s old…it was just something that popped up as a stupid meme and after researching, I found that it was indeed true: “Woman stabs boyfriend over salsa, say Akron police.” What?  She didn’t like Latin music? After reading several different articles on this incident, I found out that the story was even more ridiculous – more ridiculous than hating a sassy, sexy dance, you say? Why yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. This woman exploded into a murderous rage when she discovered that her boyfriend had eaten all the salsa they had on hand. Salsa. As in the condiment. The nerve of him!

Apparently blinded with anger at the thought of having no salsa picante to put on her cheeseburger, she grabbed a pen and started stabbing the boyfriend.  Not happy with the results from the writing instrument, she proceeded to knock the guy’s t.v. over (I have absolutely no idea what his t.v. had to do with anything) and after retrieving a knife from the kitchen, tried to finish the job the pen had started. After the “salsa savagery” was done, she fled, but was pulled over by police after a somewhat brief car chase. The boyfriend was expected to live and presumably has no dietary restrictions going forward.

My first thought was, “What the hell is wrong with people?”  That was my second and third thought too.  Maybe she would have had an excuse if he’d eaten all of their foraged truffle-essence quiche or their Coquilles St. Jacques. But salsa? Really? I mean, I guess I could understand if it was some kick-ass homemade salsa. You know, the kind you can’t find in your neighborhood grocery store or say, the 7-11 on the corner. Understanding is one thing, but I just want to make it clear, I still don’t condone food-related violence. Even if someone who shall remain nameless did steal the last bit of my Haas-Gooey Cake.

Anyhow, the woman in question told the police that the reason she stabbed him was because she “wanted to leave.” However, I’m thinking there has to be more. Right? I mean, there just has to be. A person doesn’t just snap over salsa. Do they? Maybe she had been salsa-deprived as a child. Maybe his finishing off the salsa was just the straw that broke the camel’s back in their relationship. But still, good grief! Leaving with her toothbrush after throwing his in the toilet would have been much better, and she wouldn’t be facing felonious assault charges.

Sadly, there are plenty of examples of stupidity out there in the world. A Utah man was convinced that his girlfriend was causing his headaches, so he shot her. She lived.  He’s still getting headaches in prison. Go figure. No-one ever said the guy was bright. Two ex-cons in Florida brought home a woman from a bar for an evening of “fun.” During the troika tryst, one of the cons shouted “Switch!” The other con didn’t want to, so he stabbed his buddy. You really need to be careful about picking and choosing your ménage à trois partners before doing the deed. Maybe set out some rules or sign a contract or something. You know, just to keep the stabbing down to a minimum.

But going back to the salsa lady…I don’t know if the boyfriend knew that running out of salsa was his girlfriend’s flash point, but seriously, should he have?? I mean, you’d think the guy would know just how strongly she felt about her condiments. Still, it seems like an awful lot of responsibility for one person to bear – eat this salsa and be stabbed or not eat the salsa and be deprived of some kick-ass salsa? What do I do, what do I do!?

I think, just to be on the safe side, I’m gonna start asking for extra packets of salsa when I go to Taco Bell to keep in my kitchen junk drawer… just in case something like this should ever befall me. I can use them to fend off any salsa-crazed zombies that infiltrate my house by throwing them as I back out of the kitchen to safety: “there! there! there is your salsa, you salsa-crazed zombie!” And all will be right with the world once more.

 

by

Close Encounters

Have you ever been out in public and you see someone acting or looking really weird, yet also notice that they have on a wedding ring? That guy who walks down the street in a kilt talking to a cockatoo perched on his shoulder? Wedding ring. Okay, that may be a bad example – a kilt AND a cockatoo?  That’s my kinda guy.

But what about the man in khaki shorts who wears black knee socks with his sandals and still rocks a phone clip on his belt? Wedding ring. Or the woman tap dancing on the street corner every morning wearing a chicken costume? Wedding ring.

The old adage holds true — there’s someone for everyone. Odd as it may seem, no matter how unhinged a person might be, there’s another person out there in the world who says, “Yes. I will sign up for that. That is my person right there. They’re perfect.”

Which is good news for the woman in Australia who claims not only to regularly visit alien friends she’s made over the years, but who also has apparently become half-alien herself. Yes, you read all that correctly.

Meet Judy Carroll. She claims to pal around with aliens known in pop culture as the “Greys”—and who happen to look exactly like the aliens depicted in Hollywood movies and TV shows for the past three decades—so often that when they abduct her for hangout sessions she now describes their visits as ‘normal.’

In fact, she likes being with them so much that she ‘upgraded’ her DNA to include some of their genetic material. Although to be fair, she made that decision before she was born, so you know. Kids these days. They’re just crazy, aren’t they?

Thankfully, I guess, her husband supports her in her claims. I’ll be honest. When the article mentioned that she’s married, that’s when my brain really went off the deep end. And my brain doesn’t take that leap easily because I take pills for that shit.

I admit that it baffled me that someone who has such a…hmm, what’s a safe word to use here…different view of reality than I do — yeah, that’s good — has a life partner adamantly standing by her side. But then again, I know nothing about this man. Perhaps he’s been a firm believer of alien visitation since he was a teenager. Who knows? There are massive alien conventions held all over the world with thousands in attendance so it’s not like Judy is the only woman in the world who thinks Greys treat our planet like a Meetup group.

I was also a little tripped up about the half-alien blood mingling thing. In the article, she states that she underwent the transfusion because she “believes she had made the choice to be half-alien before she was born.” Prometheus theories notwithstanding, how does one even go about that?

Of course, her choice doesn’t come without a cost – Mrs. Carroll stated she has suffered health issues (a tight jaw??) due to her half-alien lineage. I know, I know, I wondered too. Apparently, Greys don’t have movable jaws. There. That’s something you know now.

Regardless of all the huge holes I see in this woman’s story, I have to admit that, whether she’s crazy or not, she definitely looks happy. And why not? She’s making good money off the books she’s selling about the crazy shenanigans she and the Greys get into. She’s got a family that supports her, a husband that loves her. So, I say good for you, Judy! Way to have a positive outlook, despite what others may say (myself included). We should all be so many Judys.

by

Dress for Warm Weather

Is it me, or are we going to hell in that handbasket a lot faster than originally thought?  I mean, who does this kind of thing?  What the hell is wrong with people? And why does it seem like there are more and more news stories just as crazy as this one making an appearance every day? Oh yeah, for society as a whole, I’d definitely suggest packing for a warmer climate. It won’t be long before we’re all on that whirlwind tour down south…way south.

 

The headline says it all, but feel free to click the pic for the news story.

The headline says it all, but feel free to click the pic for the news story.

 

by

Hind Sight

I saw the below picture prior to reading the so-called article (which is fake, by the way) and couldn’t help but immediately ask: whose eyeballs!?  Are they human? Are they snake eyeballs…or maybe chicken, or what? Then I thought, nooo, they have to be glass eyeballs – like maybe the guy worked at a marble factory or something and the writer meant those nifty cat-eye shooters or perhaps he works for a medical office and couldn’t resist the pretty little glass eyes that would look oh-so-perfect in his creepy little home-made dolls that somehow look just like his old school chums – because no one in their right mind would do something as crazy as stuff real flesh and blood eyeballs into his anal cavity, right? Right!? Come on, work with me here people.

I had no doubt that IF such a thing were true, copious amounts of alcohol would somehow be involved (it sort of goes without saying), so it would truly be anyone’s guess as to the origins of said eyeballs.  And really…does it even matter?  That was the crux of the rapid-fire internal discourse that bounced wildly around in my head. Oh yes, I know it may seem like it would be worse if they were in fact human eyeballs and certainly no-one, least of all me, wants to contemplate the idea that there may be a serial killer out in the world who steals eyeballs to use as anal beads – which sounds like a great plot for a gruesome B-horror movie if you ask me.  But seriously, if you have the mindset to stuff eyeballs of any sort into your anal cavity to begin with, isn’t one eyeball as good bad as another?

As it happens, they were bovine eyeballs. But that’s really inconsequential in my mind. It’s the act that fascinates me most of all.  I mean, who wakes up and thinks: “When I go to work today, I’m going to steal eyeballs, and I’m not just going to walk out of there with those lovely orbs in a bag or jar, or even my lunch pail, oh no…that’s for amateurs. Pfft. I’m going to stuff those babies right up my you-know-what because I’m nothing if not fully committed to this endeavor.”  As it turns out, thankfully, no-one. At least no-one who has been caught red…ummm…handed.  As I stated from the beginning, the article was fake, but still, it made for an interesting little debate in my head as to what constitutes acceptable eyeballs for anal stuffing. And isn’t that what all good journalists should do?  Make their audience think!?

 

eyeballs in anal cavity