Saturday, July 22, 2017

Twistaplot #3 The Formula for Trouble

It turns out I haven't posted one of these since January, but on the other hand you can't rush quality and you also apparently can't rush whatever this is, either. In any case, it's time to return for more Twist-a-Plot, keeping alive the slim hopes that I can review every book in this particular series. At least today's entry looks somewhat promising, judging, as you always should, by the cover featuring President Dog and a few members of the "Dark Universe," the new corporate buzzword for fifties monster movie villains that have become walking cliches stripped of any interest. All of this is pouring out of a beaker, I'm freaking out, man.

Who is a good politician? You are, boy! Yes, you are!

This initial moderate good will is quickly drained away by the bizarre set-up, including a friendship with an elementary school teacher whose house I hang out at. This would probably raise more than a few eyebrows today, but it was a more innocent time, I guess. Anyway, I'm told to rush over. "You're not going to believe your own eyes!" Fortunately, when I arrive he's missing and we don't get a Very Special Episode of Twist-a-Plot. But first I must decide if I want to be accompanied by a dog or a friend and I decide I've got Rover backing me up.

The dog's name is actually "Titanic." Yeah. Sometimes too clever is stupid, sorry. The authors (Yes, it took two people to create this book-shaped door-jam) were apparently pretty proud of what seems like an in-joke the reader isn't privy too, the best kind of literary in-joke, as this name is repeated several times while we search for "Mr. Watson." Did he discover the double helix in this basement? The answer is "no." Instead, he's created a "Super Strength" potion that will be sure to leave baseball announcers in complete denial for years. Must be special lighter baseballs or something.

Of course it's just sitting their, waiting to be abused. I'm given a choice not to drink, but let's keep it real. It's time to destroy the MLB record book and make millions.

The substance that was not illegal when I experimented with it, honest, tastes like lemonade and provokes immediate panic from my canine buddy. Easy boy, I'm the same person, just all jacked up. Or perhaps not, because I'm also in agonizing pain that the author compares to being "hit with a fastball." Well, if I'm going to hit all those dingers that will happen sometimes. 

As you probably already guessed, the strength potion turned me into the wolf-man. So I guess it's going to be basketball, not baseball. I start the mournful howling, drawing some attention from outside. Time to "look for an electric razor." Ah, that awful snark this series is known for, how I missed it.

There is no razor. An entire page, full of painful wackiness (dead battery humor, my sides are destroyed), is devoted to conveying this information. Gah.

  Yo, I heard you like cinematic universes, dawg. How 'bout this drivel?

The authors then explain that I'm a werewolf, because it was pretty ambiguous up until now. I burst through the door and there's my school principal (I heard there was an inappropriate relationship going on here, etc) and a police woman. They see my bike and naturally assume I'm the horrific monster that shares continuity and cannon with The Mummy and Gill Man, as any reasonable person would do in this situation. The co-authors describe this as graduating Summa Cum Furry. Yes, it took more than one person to come up with that.

I'm given a choice to be good or bad and decide to go with the grain and play for Team Evil. I assumed this would allow me to brutally murder the elementary school boss and the representative of the law (no silver bullets in that gun, good luck) but instead get a page full of b.s. about the animal nature within and our good intentions and how I should go hide at home instead of feasting on the freshly killed corpses of people who were trying to help me.

This book sucks.

To add insult to injury, my family doesn't even notice the change, at least in any meaningful way, so I turn myself in to the National Guard who were summoned for some reason that I'm sure made sense in the haze of narcotics and "Hey, that's really funny!" this slop was written in. Before they can shoot me like a Freedom School hippie in "The Trial of Billy Jack" the formula suddenly wears off, the status quo is restored like this is some horrible sitcom and that's the amazing story of the temporary lycanthropy caused by a potion that was supposed to make me strong.

No one wants to fight in a John McCain endorsed foreign debacle, what gives?

I can't really say too many positive things about this one. The authors (I still can't get over that. It's a Twist-a-Plot book, not the Manhattan Project.) put in some effort to make this one stand out, but the end result was disappointing, to say the least. If everything becomes a joke, why should I care? Also, Titanic the dog? Why? I guess I can live without knowing.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

News You Can't Use: Domino’s Staff Member Forced to Kneel as a Gun is Pointed at his Head

Ordering cultural appropriation versions of Italian cuisine can easily turn into a total and complete disaster so it's probably not a surprise that every so often there's blow-back from the endlessly put-upon martyrs who just wanted a reasonably cheap and warm carb-load in a box left outside the front door. It's even less surprising when this sudden reversal takes place in a Southern Hemisphere penal colony. Yes, let's head Down Under to meet a man who was pushed too far by the whole "thirty minutes or less" trick bag and decided to perform a deleted scene from "Falling Down" on a wage slave.

Chilling footage of the moment a man pointed a shortened firearm in the face of a Domino’s Pizza Smithfield staff member has been released.

Chilling, just like the ice-cold pizza that came three hours after I ordered it. Seriously, I was wronged and my complaints are legitimate, how come no one cares?

Philip Raymond Willich was angry. He had been unable to get a discount when ordering his pizza on the phone.

Some smooth-talker told me I could get a deep discount if I mentioned my affiliation with the Professional Domino Player League, but it turned out to be a shuck.

So he went to the shop to confront the young staff member Isaac Ramsay, and asked him to step outside for a chat on October 21, 2015. 

Protip: When a confrontational yabbo wants to "chat" outside you should refuse.

Police Prosecutor Senior Sergeant Lisa Buchanan said Willich, 53, had wanted an apology.

I could have just said "sorry" and deescalated everything, but my fanatical loyalty to a place that produces something that tastes like a spicy rubber tire demanded I refuse.

When it wasn’t forthcoming he drew the weapon, which had been concealed under his clothes, and pointed it at Mr Ramsay’s head.

Looks like you're really going to earn that minimum wage today.

“It is the most serious common assault I have seen to obtain an apology for not getting a discount on a takeaway pizza,” Snr Sgt Buchanan said.

Yes. This was the worst version of that highly specific scenario I've ever seen.

“It wasn’t loaded but the victim wasn’t aware of that.” 

That's not a gun. THIS is a gun.

Snr Sgt Buchanan said Mr Ramsay was effectively “begging for his life”.

No apologies, though. I'd rather die than express regret that you didn't get a reduced price from my distant and faceless employer.

Under Queensland law, Willich must spend at least 12 months in jail because of the weapons charge.

It only took about two years to finally reach this conclusion. Now to start planning the cruel and unusual punishment.

Defence solicitor Paul Richardson handed up two comprehensive reports about his client, which described Willich has having narcissistic personality traits, high alcoholism and a depressive disorder.

I love myself so much, I'm profoundly depressed, time to drink lots of top-shelf booze.

 What do you mean this offer is expired? *pulls gun*

“The common assault was a very serious example of common assault,” Magistrate Alan Comans said, adding that they were also someone calculated.

This thing was an excellent example of this thing.

He committed the assault in the most menacing and frightening way.

As opposed to all those friendly and comforting assaults, I guess.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Thursday, July 6, 2017

News You Can't Use: Pregnant Woman Arrested For Cupcake Battery

It's amazing how easy it is to turn a horrible incident into pure knee-slapperism by altering just one of the awful details to wack-a-doodle goofiness. Turn the gun into a marital aid, the car driven by the drunkard into an Eastern European picnic table, maybe make that thrown bottle a cupcake. It really isn't all that difficult. This evidence suggests the current comedy famine we're living in is actually intentional and not merely a cultural refractory period following the removal of Pauly Shore from the public eye or whatever your plausible explanation would be.

A pregnant Florida woman was arrested for domestic battery after pelting her brother with frosted cupcakes during a 1:45 AM argument Saturday in the family’s Vero Beach residence, police report.

If they had sprinkles the charges would have been even worse.

According to cops, Latonya Daugherty, 24, was quarreling with her 30-year-old sibling when the “verbal argument escalated.”

"Escalated quickly" is the phrase I think you're trying to employ here. A simple quarrel over whether we should accept the Riemann Hypothesis goes wrong and bakery novelties become deadly projectiles.

The cupcakes, an arrest affidavit notes, struck Yaddow in the arm and chest.

Eat this Ding-Dong, you miscreant. Ugh, just winged ya.

Yaddow, investigators say, retaliated by removing frosting off his arms and “wiping it in her hair.” Yaddow, pictured at right, also allegedly kicked Daugherty in the stomach.

The one weakness of this otherwise well-conceived volley of empty calories. We're taking some friendly frosting fire, will try to hold out, please send help.

In an interview with police, Daugherty’s mother described her daughter as the “initial primary aggressor as she threw cupcakes.”

I'm sure those were the exact words and not some Morlock gibbering as depicted in the classic novel The Time Machine.

But Yaddow’s reaction, cops concluded, “exceeded a reasonable response in self defense,” prompting officers to arrest him for aggravated battery.

Before you criticize police, remember that we expect them to referee this sort of absolutely staggering violent idiocy.

While police took note of the blue frosting in Daugherty’s hair, the cupcakes themselves were not collected as evidence.

Er, yeah. We don't actually need them as evidence. *discretely wipes crumbs off mouth*

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

News You Can't Use: Cops Hunt For Chrome-Domed Rogaine Bandit

The heartbreak of male pattern baldness, let alone the "chrome dome," is truly one of nature's cruelest pranks, right up there with a nose that never stops growing and uncontrollable falling down syndrome. It's arguably forgivable, then, that mid-life crisis cases are addicted to extremely flammable hair growth miracle cures, ranging from semi-legitimate transplant efforts to "hair in a can" spray paint solutions. Still, we live in a land of laws, and trying to restore your lost youth in a vanity-themed effort to stave off death's grim specter must be done legally. We either have a country of law-abiding baldies or we don't. Treat you scalp, but do it the right way. I love the Rogaine, I love the Rogaine.

Michigan police are seeking the public’s assistance in apprehending a bald Rogaine thief. 

The problem with this manhunt is he'll use the product, immediately regrow a full head of thick, luxurious and glorious hair and the above description will be worthless. 

According to cops, the suspect last week swiped seven boxes of the hair regrowth product from a CVS pharmacy in Dearborn.

Next week we'll try to catch the empty pants thief who swiped seven crates of magic penis enlargement pills.

The chrome-domed culprit then placed the Rogaine in a shopping bag, exited the store, and drove away in an “older model Chevrolet,” police report.

Looks like the "restoring the classics" guy from those Hair Club ads has finally crossed over to the dark side.

As seen above, the suspect--wearing an “Air Force Dad” t-shirt--was recorded by CVS surveillance cameras as he entered the store on June 22.

We can only hope the tragic baldness that directly led to crime wasn't caused by our military "accidentally" exposing this guy to nerve gas or whatever.

Dearborn police suspect the perp will again try to steal Rogaine since “12–14 months of consistent use is needed to see results.”

Expect to see two or three new hairs in four to six years, if you're lucky. I think we know who the real crooks are, man.

Life is hard, then this happens, then you die.

Chief Ronald Haddad noted that, “While this is not the most hair-raising crime, we must protect our retailers as these crimes drive up the retail costs for honest consumers."  

This sort of hairy situation, full of bald-faced lies, can only end with the criminal shedding his freedom.

The suspect, cops say, is a black male between the ages of 30 and 40. He was wearing blue jean shorts at the time of the Rogaine heist.

Suspect was not wearing a hat and had no visible prosthetic limbs. 

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part III

I know, I promised this over a month ago and then failed miserably on the old follow-through. In my defense I didn't realize how difficult it would be to slog through nearly an hour worth of freedom getting wrecked by the worst imaginable tyrannies. I started to feel like I was being detained myself, but then I remembered I was free to go. Fortunately for the sports gambling and stock market bots that frequent this blog I've decided to voluntarily restore joinder with this amazing and critically acclaimed inquisition into the Sovereign Citizen movement, so let's dive right back in. Last time we learned that our birth certificates are bought and sold on the Chinese Dry Goods Exchange, we met an "activist" who failed to defuse a police encounter by offering Pepsi and nearly paid the ultimate price and we discovered that there is such a thing as "too cute" in a dog. Today, we've got even more life lessons, or at least that would be a sensible presumption.

We get off to a hot start by meeting a man who resembles Willy Wonka's far less successful younger brother. Something tells me that we're going to end this segment with a "You lose, good day sir!" Just a wild guess. Anyway, the Wilder Lite is in the middle of a call to some agent of the Beast System. It might be a badge fascist, since he's already getting read his rights from whoever is on the other end of the line. Not the best start to my efforts to buy back my birth certificate from East Asia. "Anything I say can be used against me in a court of law?" outrages the Free Man and this is quickly confirmed.

Slugworth stole my recipe for balloon candy? What?

When asked to clarify his understanding of the situation the resistor declares that his rights emanate from God and not something a police officer reads off a tiny card. This is the hero we don't deserve. "I'm in charge!" he insists, which is right up there with "You can't arrest me" and "I was told I'm special and unique" when it comes to impotent bravado. To punctuate this limp stand against evil he rises out of the chair, giving us a nice close-up of the frontal "area" before walking away from the camera. Low production values and poor blocking a homemade Sovereign Citizen recording? It's more likely than you might expect.

A blanket denial of understanding the plain English that was read off a laminated piece of paper follows, while baby and dog noises from off-camera add to the surreal atmosphere. A question about an "attorney" earns an outraged "What???" Ignorance of that obscure and rarely seen profession is certainly understandable. Suffice it to say, there is no legal representation for the Man They Can't Break. Without any resolution, it's over. This entire segment seemed more like some sort of lazy student film. It's called "Free Wonka," dudemar. It's, like, a commentary on the shackles that bind us to this dying society or whatever. Real hype stuff, I still have to put in some music and fix all the mistakes like that extreme crotch shot in editing.

Back to cuffing one of the losers from last week month while flashing lights threaten to trigger epilepsy. "Where's the blood coming from?" My best guess, and this is just a guess, would be "cuts in your flesh." While the speculation continues the man who refuses to be a barcode for a soulless nightmare state yells semi-coherently about "mob mentality" which would make a little more sense if he was being lynched instead of arrested by duly appointed officers. I mean, it's really a good point, never mind that. Mobs, man. That diffusion of responsibility doe.

Am I under arrest? Am I free to leave?

Time to discuss our rights, namely the right to be an "asshole" after tackling. This was originally going to be the Third Amendment before we got that weird bit about quartering soldiers in our homes. Addition potty mouth follows. "I'll stop when I'm done!" Whoa, totally far-out and with it, man. Take that, establishment. He apparently is done, because we cut away.

Next up is more footage I've already examined in loving detail. The short version is a southern-fried version of the T-1000 breaks a car's window barehanded in pursuit of humanity's last, best hope. Which turns out to be some goof who was "traveling" and refuses to give the papiern. Then he gets zapped with a tazer. Seriously, if you love the genre of Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned, and you shouldn't be reading this if you don't, this one is top shelf. 

Back to our telephone calling, attorney ignoring, suit wearing, wonka-looking son-of-a-gun. He's back out of the chair, leaving more "fix it in post" work for the aspiring filmmaker. Now the stranger on the other end is asking for a "Last Name," probably so he can sell it on the gray market. While this happens we get more waist-down shots. Seriously, I don't really need this in my life.

We leave our daylight caller, again without any resolution, for a news report from the Mainstream Media! Here comes the rigorous honesty, impartial balance and sincere desire to educate and improve the populace, in other words. The fake news du jour focuses on a Sovereign Citizen squatting in a 3 million dollar mansion. The police politely asked this person to leave, but no compliance followed and it's not like we have a legal monopoly on coercive force or anything so here we are. Ordinary slave citizens express bemusement, but what you're looking at is called "freedom," sheeple. It turns out that a woman "took over" the abandoned home. I know, what is even going on here?

Believe it or not, she has a so-called "criminal record" for trying to run over Brown Shirts in a traffic stop. And that's all for this highly polished and compelling tale from the local news. Will we use the rule of law to evict this decent and highly sane individual, or will "I do not consent to being arrested!" work for the first time ever? I don't know, it just ends abruptly.

More to come, hopefully in a more timely fashion!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.  

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

News You Can't Use: A Bunch Of CIA Staff Got Fired For Stealing Snacks From Vending Machines

I'm CIA. Uh, you don't get to bring your goofy article about how my coworkers are stealing snacks. Or you do, I guess. I'll call it in.

Several CIA contractors were kicked out of the agency for stealing more than $3,000 in snacks from vending machines, according to official documents newly obtained by BuzzFeed News.

When I'm suffering from between meal hunger you can't expect me to destabilize foreign governments or invent new street drugs. Besides, that one dollar, American, price is far too much to pay for salted goods and chocolate bar variations.

The thefts took place starting in the fall of 2012 and continued through March 2013, according to a declassified Office of Inspector General report from October 2013.

I'm losing respect for the "Russian Hackers" in light of the fact that our own super agents couldn't stop their own people from tipping the machine to make it dispense free product, in defiance of claims on that warning sticker.

The "theft scheme" involved unplugging a cable connecting the machines to an electronic payment system called FreedomPay, and then using "unfunded FreedomPay cards" to buy the snacks at no cost.

This clever scheme involved unplugging things. My proposed "tipping the machine" is practically James Bond stuff compared to this low effort caper. Now we know why Castro died of natural causes at a ripe old age.

After being informed of the thefts, the OIG installed "surveillance cameras at several key vending locations where a high occurrence of thefts were taking place," according to the report.

Then they put tape over the lens and we were back to square one. We couldn't topple Ukraine, but when it comes to stealing Kit Kats and Hog Logs we're an unstoppable force.

"Video footage recovered from the surveillance cameras captured numerous perpetrators engaged in the FreedomPay theft scheme, all of whom were readily identifiable as Agency contract personnel," the report states.

Actually the cameras worked, so it appears the total incompetence and laziness is evenly distributed throughout our glorious deep state swamp.

Investigators pinpointed one unidentified contract employee as having masterminded the scheme thanks to "his knowledge of computer networks." 

My extensive computer hacking knowledge taught me that electronics don't work when they're unplugged.

They quickly admitted to the thefts. All then surrendered their CIA badges, were escorted from the building by security, and were fired by their respective contract employers.

No regrets, am I right?

What would happen if I unplugged that snack machine? Would you die?

The OIG referred the matter to the US Attorney's office for Eastern District of Virginia for prosecution, but the Department of Justice declined to press charges. 

If you still think Hillary Clinton is going to do prison time, consider the above sentence.

Komment Korner   

A few candy bars is worth far, far less than a creative person.

Gurl, losing your government job over a damn Snickers? Really bitch?

With a budget of almost 15 billion (if you count black budget as well), it is nice to see them busting a $3000 dollar candy ring.

Shut up already about Hillary.

My grandma once taught me "Never steal anything that isn't worth the salary you'd lose doing the jail time."

Finally, integrety and accountability in government.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, June 17, 2017

News You Can't Use: Inside the Rehab Saving Young Men from their Internet Addiction

I've clearly won the battle against internet addiction, at least if my recent run of posting here is any indication (let's pretend it actually is and I don't spend hundreds of hours watching sovereign citizen and weightlifting battle videos). Not everyone is winning this battle over themselves, however. As evidenced by the legions of millennial human derelicts mercilessly bashing the candle in church parking lots with the aid of a tiny glowing screen, we've still got big problems. Fortunately expensive and humiliating "rehab" has been developed and we should soon see the end of electronic onanism in much the same way as the drug "fad" was completely defeated last decade.

By the time Marshall Carpenter’s father broke down the barricaded door of his son’s apartment and physically ripped him away from his electronic devices, the 25-year-old was in a bad way. 

"I'm coming son!" *kicks in door* Here's the product of my loins, covered in Mountain Dew and other far less wholesome fluids, entering hour 79 of a Wikipedia editing marathon.

“I was playing video games 14 or 15 hours a day, I had Netflix on a loop in the background, and any time there was the tiniest break in any of that, I would be playing a game on my phone or sending lonely texts to ex-girlfriends,” Carpenter says.

Horny as hell here, please send help. Well, back to pretending to be an elf. Here, let me turn on the Republican villain fantasy hour. Hey, flappy birds! Then it all collapsed, believe it or not.

We are sitting in a small, plain apartment in a nondescript condo complex in Redmond, Washington, on the outskirts of Seattle. Marshall shares the apartment with other men in their 20s, all of whom have recently emerged from a unique internet addiction rehab program called reSTART Life.

A program of physical culture, speaking only when spoken to, constant ridicule, wall-scaling and making sure the first and last words out of your sewer are "sir" should turn around the Generation with No Chest and get them back to serving proudly as important barcodes within the corporate grid.

“I was basically living on Dr Pepper, which is packed with caffeine and sugar."

Just in case you got confused by the name and thought it was a healthy prescription supplement, I guess.

"I would get weak from not eating but I would only notice it when I got so shaky I stopped being able to think and play well,” he adds.

All those "Game Overs" and "Restart from last checkpoint" were actually trying to warn me that I was slowly killing myself.

His new friends Charlie and Peter nod sagely. Charlie Bracke, 28, was suicidal and had lost his job when he realized his online gaming was totally out of control. He can’t remember a time in his life before he was not playing video games of some kind: he reckons he began when he was about four and was addicted by the age of nine.

The first game of Miss Pac-Man is free. Then see who comes back for more. Then I start charging.

For Peter, 31, who preferred to withhold his last name, the low came when he had been homeless for six months and was living in his car.

Time to plug the computer into the lighter port and keep on saving those fantasy worlds.

“I would stay in church parking lots and put sunshades up on the windows and spend all day in my car on my tablet device,” he says. He was addicted to internet porn, masturbating six to 10 times a day, to the point where he was bleeding but would continue.

What the hell? Yuck.

When he wasn’t doing that, he was so immersed in the fantasy battle game World of Warcraft that in his mind, he was no longer a person sitting at a screen, but an avatar: the bold dwarvish hero Tarokalas, “shooting guns and assassinating the enemy” as he ran through a Tolkien-esque virtual realm.

This subscription vidiot game is just like a complex and heavily layered Christian allegory. Welp, time to bash the bishop for the tenth time today.

And when he wasn’t doing that, he would read online news reports obsessively and exercise his political opinions and a hair-trigger temper in the comment section of The Economist, projecting himself pseudonymously as a swaggering blogger-cum-troll.

Maybe "cum-troll" wasn't the best word choice in light of some other details we were given.

“I was a virgin until I was 29. Then I had sex with a lap dancer at a strip club. That’s something I never thought I would do,” he says.

This is actually marginally less pathetic than the rest of your story, but who am I to decide what your own personal rock bottom is.

After completing the initial $25,000, 45-day residential stage at the main “campus” a few miles away, clients move into the cheaper, off-site secondary phase.

How a guy that was homeless and had destroyed his own genitals via the solitary vice was able to afford this remains a mystery. Special government scholarship programs?

Here they get to share a normal apartment, on the condition that they continue with psychotherapy, attend Alcoholics Anonymous-style 12-step meetings, search for work and avoid the internet for a minimum of six months. 

You're not allowed on the internet. Good luck with your job search.

Mostly they carry only flip phones and have to go to the library when they want to check email.

Think of it as technological methadone.

“I’m taking my life in six-month chunks at this stage. So far I haven’t relapsed into gaming and I’m feeling optimistic,” says Bracke.

Take it six months all at once, great advice for any addict.

Full Article.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

News You Can't Use: Step Into Our Selfie Booth and Help Us Build Our Brand

If there's two ideologies I will aggressively defend with my life and treasure it's narcissism and building brand identity. This is especially true now that this blog has somehow become ground zero for sports wagering "systems" and "pick up artist" get the ladies via hypnosis spam. Clearly I'm on the very brink of leveraging my new status as a dumping ground for terrible and completely bogus goods and services into CEOing for 10/k per week. And when I'm doing it I'll be sure to take lots of pictures, because I'm nature's most incredible creation and you'll never get sick of it.

First there were selfies. Then there were selfie sticks. Now comes a new phase: selfie booths, which some stores and other businesses are adding as a sort of next-generation photo kiosk.

It's really the same old shit we had in malls in the eighties, but we'll pretend this is some exciting new breakthrough because we need at least one story that isn't about Donald Trump's ice cream social blunders.

In the age of ubiquitous social media, these booths and rooms seem to be the latest way to engage customers and build a brand.

Wait, entire rooms? How wasteful do you have to be to have a "selfie room" at your not properly established brand? Just go in there and duck-face, and remember, no one gets your teeth whiter than Alpha N' Omega Brand mouth bleacher.

At several branches of the optical company Warby Parker, myopics unsure if those tortoiseshell frames are really “them” can jump into the on-site selfie booth, snap off some images and email them to friends and family for a second (and third, fourth and fifth) opinion.

Great glasses, dudemar. Let me click the little blue button to formally register my approval. We're "friends."

At Paintbox, a nail studio in New York City, clients can get a manicure, then insert their hands into a photo box where their latest coat of metallic teal will be immortalized.

Latest coat of metallic teal! I'm a serious author!!! I'M WRITING!!!!!!!!!11111oneoneone

And at Doomie’s, a vegan restaurant in Toronto, there is a dedicated selfie room where patrons stand in front of a mirror, snap a photo and post it to social media, often with a caption like “just emerged from my food coma.”

And just got ready to enter my real coma brought on by a poor diet and endless virtue signaling. Look pale and weak at Doomie's, fellow righteous eaters! Document the slow wasting away process with lots of tacky photos!

“When we were planning the restaurant, we wanted clever ways to promote it and differentiate it, and the younger demographic always wants something Instagram-able,” said one of Doomie’s owners, Hellenic Vincent De Paul.

The original "Meet your Doom at Doomie's: Come here and die" slogan met with tepid enthusiasm, at best.

The restaurant had an unused basement room, so Mr. De Paul painted the floor white and had the walls papered in cartoons by an artist known as Vegan Sidekick.

Stranger approaches for no discernible reason. "Hey buddy, I'm vegan!" Before you can even formulate a response the Vegan Sidekick pops out. "Me too!"

The novelty has prompted a lot of publicity, including by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.

This is just the thing to air after the hockey game but before the maple syrup documentary.

A lot of people are like, ‘Let’s go to the vegan restaurant with the selfie room.’ ”

It's either that or the other plan of taking turns punching ourselves in the abdomen. I'm still undecided, here.

Here is a sure sign that the selfie booth is officially ready for its close-up: The Tracy Anderson Method, a fitness chain with a high-end cult following — Lena Dunham is an acolyte, and Gwyneth Paltrow is a partner — installed just such a nook in its new 6,000-square-foot studio on East 59th Street in Manhattan.

It's hard to imagine a better endorsement for a gym than "Lena Dunham goes here."

Morgen Schick, a Ford model turned beauty and anti-aging guru, sidled into the bright white photo booth on a recent morning and pondered the tools she could use to embellish her selfie: props in the booth include tiny flags festooned with hearts and a pair of weights — and there are four photographic filters, all designed to flatter like mad.

Surely this will ward off the grim specter of death following a life completely wasted.

“That’s not bad,” said Ms. Schick, 52, examining herself on the screen before clicking. “There isn’t a filter to make me look 25, but that’s O.K. We’re embracing the now.”

This was followed by three hours of weeping and wailing.

Full Article. 

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, May 13, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part II

Previously on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met a nervous weedhead, a man who honestly thought public freakouts were protected under The Unwritten Laws and a guy who looked like what the Chucky doll from "Child's Play" would become if he was somehow made fully human and aged into a socially maladroit forty-something. Now we're back and it's time again to create joinder with these amazing patriots fighting for our sacred rights. Rights like not having license plates, speeding, screaming at other people for no reason, you know, all that Tommy Jefferson stuff.

Instead of the customary traffic stop we start with a face-cam of a free woman of the land talking directly to us. Sanity and coherent reasoning are going to be in very short supply during this monologue. She discusses "breaking even" on "strawman bills" and I'm not even sure how to keep ridiculing this drivel. This footage is what would happen if you took PCP and then watched one of those Sunday morning political snooze-fests. "Are we talking about rezoning or redistricting?" asked the balding middle-age suit as he steps out of the television and transforms into a dozen rainbow colored birds of paradise dripping blood from their wings as they fly around the room in formation. Come on, we've all been there.

The exciting discussion of "bills" continues. I guess the idea here, and this is almost pure conjecture, is that what you pay to the state should only be just enough to keep the services running and no civil servant should be allowed to have a comfortable lifestyle as a result of this taxation. This thesis largely falls apart when she gives examples like "A bastard lost at sea." I honestly have no idea. Helpfully, some Twilight Zone music is inserted over this deranged misunderstanding of the First Principles of government.

We're then told that birth certificates are used as "collateral" following the "Bankruptcy of 1933." I'm not sure how that would work for people born after that forgotten historical tragedy, but on the other hand I have a reasonable grasp on what we call "reality." The good news is you call file some bureaucratic paperwork to get your "living soul" back, so take that FDR. Make sure your name is in all capital letters, though, because otherwise it won't work and the devil will get you.

There was no actual "ownage" in this segment, but wow, I really feel "woke" after all of that.

The government took my soul, but I got it back by writing my name in big letters on some form.

Incredibly, the next resistor has already been covered in glorious detail about a year ago. Are we running out of strategic "Am I being detained" reserves? Please say it isn't so. Anyway, it's our friend from "Cun-adda" who ran afoul of the Canadian version of Dirty Harry and failed to defeat maple leaf tyranny. The only difference is this version added some little animations, including "Thug Life" and the 420 sniper rifle. Whether this is an improvement on the original footage is a matter for the philosophers to examine, we're moving on.

Next up we get an awkward rotated shot of lights flashing hypnotically in the darkness while our unseen freeman insists that his arrest is actually "corporate policy." "Yeah...gonna need you to come to the jail on Saturday this week." He calls the officer "good sir" and questions the need for the lights, since there is no emergency.  The camera keeps jerking around and it might be time to use that airsickness bag, good sir. Forsooth, thou art a knave and scoundrel badge heretic, with no cause for thine cherries and blueberries.

The argument continues. "We are activists!" Give the cop a Pepsi, I'm told that calms 'em right down. "I do this all the time!" Truly you are a national treasure, good sir. Now it's time to walk away because "I control the situation!" Can you hazard a guess how this will end?

You're right, it's time to kiss pavement, while insisting that "I'm not under arrest." My eyes are closed, how can you see me? Pathetic and entertaining whining follows as Democracy Dies in the Darkness. There's some profanity (So edgy! My square button-down mind just got BLOWN) and the cuffs are applied. "You ever hear of commercial lean?" Well, have you, punk? More cussing and acting out follows. This is the hero of our time.

He actually has the stones to say "Ignorance of the law is no excuse!" While on his stomach and cuffed. Then it abruptly ends, without ever finding out the fate of the potty mouth who stood up.

You have no right to set up this jar, it violates the Paris accords of 1784.

Now it's time for a young lady who is also being detained by fascists. We're told a "dog unit" is on the way. Just like you, all obedient to like, tyranny, man. We discuss the reasons for this unlawful usurpation and it remains unclear what, exactly, is going on. Our free lady of the land does threaten to call 911, earning a laugh from the officer. I'm being harassed by the police, time to call the police. There are logical problems.

More attempts to get at the heart of the motives for this illegal and immoral detention are derailed by references to the cuteness of a dog. It turns out our subject was "nervous" which is now an arrest-able offense, it would seem. Obviously the missing scene between the awkward initial interaction and the current situation must have involved the usual sovereign citizen escalation of something that would immediately end if you demonstrated some very basic cooperation with fair authority, I mean pitiful consent to the machinery threatening to devour our souls.

Am I being detained?

Our heroine decides to initiate a twenty minute time limit, but is immediately vetoed by the jackboot patrol. The tool of a corrupt and evil system even threatens to "spike your tires" which I'm guessing doesn't mean trying to somehow pour booze into them. Oddly, the car is what is actually being held and she's free to walk away. I'm not sure how this works. Can we just park it in a cell for a few weeks, since it's what you're angry at?

Now to debate where one is allowed to stand. "Your little thing is over there!" I don't want to know. This earns hostility, but lawsuits are threatened in return. All because my dog was cute and I'm naturally twitchy. Now for the assault, complete with lots of hysterical screaming, some of which calls to mind Goofy cartoons. This is how freedom dies. "What the [fudge] is wrong with you! Are you retarded?" That's ableist. Now I don't know who to side with in this narrative.

The victim of the monopoly on violence keeps persisting with more screaming. "Get it out of me!" That's what she said! Well, it is. More arguing over who was in the way and a suggestion that she might be in trouble for assaulting a federal officer. If you want to be happy for the rest of your life never make a pretty dog your pet. Also, she got tased. That's what was in her, electrodes. Not penis. I'm glad we've settled that. Part Three next week, friends.

Komment Korner  

They should call in P BARNES for all these taz them and they likely live in their mom and step dads basement anyway bahaha    

lol she sounded like Goofy falling off a cliff  

good sir, these people are idiots.......good sir

LOL that woman with the teaser get it out of me in that arnold schwarzenegger

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse". I have a sneaking feeling he's going to be hearing those exact words from a judge.

I thought these dumbasses were exclusively American

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

News You Can't Use: Couple Caught Having Oral Sex In Dining Room At McDonald’s

Coming up with the perfect night out can get hard (this is the first of many double entendres this story will produce, the rest will be ignored, leaving the schoolgirl giggling implied). You could go all out and be creative, maybe a hot air balloon, scuba diving or going behind the dumpster of the last remaining video rental store in America. However, as the kids say, let's please to be keeping it real when doing the needful. After all, these sexually charged interactions are supposed to be about genuine human connection, shared emotions and feelings, birds suddenly appearing, that sort of thing. With this in mind, performing the French Act in a fast food dining room under the shadows of the children's play area is just as good as any idea network television might try to subliminally insert (ha ha, insert. Whoops, sorry) into your mind.

Meet Conrad Jablecki. 

I'd really rather not. Even considering he's the real-life version of "I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom." Perverts in the top ten, please allow me to bump thee.

The 30-year-old Maryland man has been charged with indecent exposure and open lewdness after he engaged in oral sex with a woman in the dining room of a Pennsylvania McDonald’s, cops report.

You can tell a society is corrupt by all the laws, man. You can't legislate morality, stop trying. Besides, we can't even FEED everyone, but have time to worry about nightstick polishing in Mayor McCheese's city. Our priorities, man. You can't hug your children with nuclear arms.

According to investigators, Jablecki and a woman--who has yet to be apprehended--trysted publicly on a Thursday afternoon in March. 

It's customary for the gentleman to shoulder all the open lewdness charges on a date, unless you agreed in advance to split them.

A McDonald’s worker spotted the duo’s illicit activity and chased them from the restaurant in York.

This is the citizen of the year. When I was flipping burgers I was mostly in a stuporous haze of self-pity and alcohol hangover effects and not exactly on high-alert for catching illicit activity.

Jablecki, who lives about 40 miles south of the McDonald’s, was charged Monday in a District Court criminal complaint.

A one hour drive just to perform sex acts during the calorie load. Maybe there's an In-N-Out Burger closer to your home. Let your fingers do the walking, dudemar.

Just thought I'd stop in for some of the old in-out, in-out. Er, Burgers, that is.

Jablecki’s rap sheet includes convictions this year for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct. 

On tonight's episode of The Petty Crime Profiler...

In 2012, Jablecki was sentenced to 60 days in jail and placed on probation for two years in connection with charges that he exposed himself to a woman and her five-year-old daughter on a Maryland beach.

Genuine class.

According to his Facebook page, Jablecki works for a landscaping firm.

Really? My guess would have been medical doctor, contract lawyer or maybe senator.

In posts last year, Jablecki wrote about seeking “A bad bitch W/ mean head game” and “a Girl who is a SupaFreak+Funny+Down to Earth+spontaneous+Drama-Free+Sense of Humor+Easy to conversate with jus talk About Everything an Anything!”

In fairness, it might be difficult to conversate and/or jus talk when your mouth is full.

Komment Korner  

I guess they were overcome by the romantic ambiance of their beloved Golden Arches.

Is that what Mickey D's means by "Real Grown-up Taste"?

A real Lady Gaga

he must have voted for Hillary and is getting his reward B.J. Hint for the police "Madonna"

Land of the free and home of the brave. I am so proud to be an American.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, May 6, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION

I used to have a difficult time relating to the pathetic, broken losers who camp out waiting for a sequel to be released, wasting the precious gift of life anticipating an escapist fantasy that is sure to be a disappointment because of its inherent limitations. I guess I still do, but on the other hand I'm mad hype for the long-awaited second edition of sovereign citizens trying their "this is not the car without plates you're looking for" mind tricks only to suffer the ignominy of being "owned." With another forty-plus minutes to get through it looks like this will be my new Saturday night thing.

Unlike most Part Twos we don't waste any time catching the viewer back up or explaining the premise for newcomers. Instead we're already deep in the conflict between Free Men of the Land and the 1984 nightmare state as an unseen fascist politely asks for ihnen papiern, bitte. Of course, it can't be that easy, otherwise we might not get wrecked. Our full-faced hero of the pound-sign resistance explains that he's "the human being that owns the entity." Could this be the new word magic? Just call your car an "entity" like in one of those PG-13 horror films about hauntings and you should be off the hook. It's not like you're going to get your window broken or zapped with a taser or bracelets behind the back, that's for sure.

For all your traveling needs.

We get a request for insurance and, incredibly, compliance follows. Shouldn't you be citing the Articles of the Confederation at this point? Come on, man. He even shows his license to the friendly face of totalitarian evil! Just as I'm about to lose all hope (We are the dead, etc.) the officer notes that he's "never seen a license like this before?" Excuse me officer, but this License to Oogle is pretty standard issue and thoroughly legitimate. I also have a "Female Body Inspector" card if you need to see that.

We skip ahead, mercifully, to our anti-hero explaining that his narcotics are legitimate prescription Colorado Cools, and as such perfectly legal. Still he's "under arrest for marijuana." Meanwhile the goon squad slips on a black glove, no doubt in preparation for massive Constitutional violations. What about, like, my right to get nice and evenly baked? Is that even factoring into the decision process here?

 I'm gonna need you to smell the glove.

Our identification figure continues to argue his "lawful right" to get blown, but it's clear this is a losing battle, what with the lack of case law from the eighteenth century being cited. No wonder they call it dope. The door is opened and the full-figured champion of the sacred freedoms of this land insists he isn't being arrested, despite considerable evidence to the contrary. The owning finally occurs as our hemp smoking friend is shoved into the side of the car with a satisfying "Ow!" Then it's back to insisting his Satan Weed is actually "medicinal" before being driven to the ground. 

"I'm not resisting!" is said repeatedly while the Chong this generation deserves flops like a freshly landed halibut on the pavement. The cuffs are put on while he continues to rant ineffectually about his right to get lit. Another weedhead defeated, good work officer.

We jump to the next vignette, where our unseen narrator records a police car pulling up with obscene resignation. Heavy breathing follows. Seriously, we get a lengthy piece of video that is nothing but painful sounding huffing and puffing while the police state leisurely gets into position. Apparently the free citizen's own erratic behavior (walking into traffic, screaming, etc) provoked the arrival of the goon squad, a likely story. This is tyranny. Despite "not consenting to contact" the no-nonsense cop, I mean criminal with a badge, demands a "favor." I wonder how this will play out?

 I bet this guy wants to hear all about admiralty law.

"Step away from the bag!" Meanwhile more officers are arriving. You wanted attention, now you have it. No one wants to discuss probable cause, and our cameraman is instead told to sit down. No way, beast system. I have a right to scream menacing nonsense at random passerby. Some barely legible red text on the screen provides a massive spoiler for what is about to happen (Assault!) and sure enough after trying to leave it's time to roll on the ground with help from the oppression squad. Sadly the camera got turned off by the officers during the struggle (how convenient!) and you'll just have to imagine the worst, I guess.

New scene, a Ford Truck from the distant past, before the average cab height was about ten feet in the air, disgorges a scruffy sovereign citizen. He's told to "stand at the front of the car" but comes back with an impressive "Why?" Checkmate, dictatorship.

Another rejected Travis Bickle audition. 

Ford Truck Driver is told to "have a seat" on the car. What is it with gestapo wanting us to sit down, man? It's bad for the circulation, unlike my "medicine." The last free man complies, showing off his impressive mane of lightly washed hair and general slovenly appearance. Apparently this handsome rake was involved in a "hit and run" according to witnesses. How can I use my incorrect reading of the Mayflower Compact to get me out of this one? If your answer was speaking semi-coherently about who exactly made the allegations than congratulations, you share a mind with free man adult Chucky doll here.

We discuss the lack of communication and even call for a "rewind" while making the appropriate circular hand gestures. Then the disheveled traveler reaches in his pockets, prompting a stern rebuke. Now it's time to put those same hands on the hood, but the champion of the right to crash into someone and drive off actually has the stones to say "Shoot Me!" Yeah, if only.

He finally assumes the position, dropping some unseen item (A miniature Constitution? My legal joints? A non-legitimate license?) in the process. An attempt to open a forum on the meaning of "probable cause" is swatted aside (A witness statement might, just might, qualify). "Are you listening?" Next thing we know, this Brad Pitt look-a-like is getting manhandled by uniformed thugs while continuing to mutter inanities during the cuffing.

Are you even listening, dude?

Another car pulls up, complete with point-of-view action driving. The production values, they keep getting better and better. The third officer rushes up with a taser. "Tase me!" is offered as one last act of defiance, but we're a little less reluctant to deploy the zapper as opposed to the hand cannon. First some painful electricity, than an awkward fall to the ground that looked really painful for the Free Man. Another police car pulls up. The scene ends with no less than four puppets of a criminal state working to subdue this goof. This is my special day where I got to be the Big Boy, I'll always cherish it. 

I'm only eight minutes in. According to my pocket calculator that means we might do five of these. The "Holiday Season" has come early.

Komment Korner  

For me busting the window is like busting a load

I got a dui once because I had a prescription that was a day expired.
As a cop, as soon as someone starts giving you a bunch of legal terms, you know you might have to tase an idiot today

the second guy looks like a human form of Chucky.

sees the time "Oh I should probably go to bed" sees a 42 minute video of sovereign idiots "NAH"

love watching these idiots getting there ass beat

Jesus christ, what HAPPENED to the guy @4:00? He looks like a goddamn manikin and his lips aren't moving. He's gotta be either high or drunk off his ass.

I THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! I'm not a part of your system!!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.     

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

News You Can't Use: Fantasy Fan Transforms Himself into an ELF With £25,000 of Plastic Surgery

For most healthy people the dream of becoming an elf never makes it past the "Hector was pretty cool in that other movie, too" phase. For the less healthy it expresses itself in basement gaming, debating whether a "charm" spell can work on your Valley Elf with all the vigor and intensity of Lincoln-Douglas, or perhaps so-called "video games" that you can play on your television according to a news report from 1977 that just arrived here on my home planet yesterday. You might think there is no further step, no complete fairy tale Spock apotheosis and, of course, you're wrong. For several thousand pounds sterling it can all be real. Well, as real as anything gets these days, I suppose.

A fantasy fanatic has spent more than £25,000 on plastic surgery as he wants to become a real-life elf. 

If you have to sleep and get no bonuses to surprise rolls when you're alone in front of the rest of the party you're still not really an elf, sorry dude.

Luis Padron, 25, from Buenos Ares, Argentina, became obsessed with the world of elves, angels and fantasy beings after being bullied as a child.

I know, I thought this was dubious, too. Next we'll find out he was socially awkward.

He became determined to look like his favourite otherworldly characters and started bleaching his hair and skin.

Fake News Alert Fact Check: Elves are from the same world as humanity, not "otherworldly." Rating: pants on fire.

He now has a £4,000-a-month ritual applying specialist creams, dyes, treatment and SPF 100 sunscreen.

What a bodybuilder would become if you removed the actual lifting things up and putting them down.

Mr Padron gets unusual looks but says he doesn't care what people think and said he won't stop until he has fully 'transformed' into an elf.

Until I am allowed to multi-class and cast spells in armor, the battle for my rights must continue.

The 25-year-old, who sells cosplay merchandise, said: 'I want to be an elf, an angel and a fantasy being, my aim is to look inhuman, ethereal, graceful and delicate.

Good for you, son.

Hold on Gimli, I have to put my face on.

"I want to have my ears cut to become pointy like an elves, my jaw to look more sharp like a diamond, a face-lift and an eye-lift to give my eyes a cat-like shape."

I am extremely healthy psychologically.

"I am also considering having muscle implants too."

Awesome pics. Great sharp jaw and cat eyes. Look sylvan. Magical. Fey. Keep us all posted on your continued progress with any new progress pics or magical reflecting pool clips. Show us what you got elf. Wanna see how freakin' ethereal, graceful, pale and delicate you can get. Thanks for the motivation.

"There's also a surgery to make you taller and I will remove four of my ribs too, so that I can shape my waist to make it thinner."

Wait. Hold up. Are you saying there's a medical intervention for manlets?

He added: 'People have stared at me ever since I was a teenager, so it's very normal to me now. I like people staring at me and don't care what they think.

I'm the sane one and it's a sick society that needs to fix itself. Now if you'll excuse me I have a rib-removal surgery to get to.

Full Article. 

Komment Korner, Horrible Puns Edition 

Another one with mental elf problems

When I was younger, I wanted to be a cat.

Well I sure hope your are feline a lot better now ;) 

and soon to be available on (as others have said) the National Elf Service.

Snorts in mild contempt.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.  

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

News You Can't Use: Robot 'Sent Back to Humanoid School'

We're rapidly approaching a technological singularity where robots will be able to type letters that are blurry and have lines through them or participate in the internet without immediately becoming racist against every single people group. The frustration comes in being so close but falling just short, as even promising bots must be returned to "humanoid school" [common core joke goes here] after failing spectacularly in basic interactions with the meat bags they will one day destroy. Hopefully this will prove corrective, because I have a feeling I'll make a great pet.

A robot has been sent back to 'language school' after she forgot where the Great Wall of China is.

The hero types "Who is buried in Grant's tomb?" into the supercomputer, causing it to melt down, throwing off sparks and billowing clouds of smoke.

China's talking robot Jia Jia stumbled over her words during her first live TV interview in English.

We expected it to effectively mock Mercerism, but instead it was a total mess.

The mechanical marvel 'forgot' basic words and phrases in conversation with American journalist Kevin Kelly. 

He's interviewed Obama, he's used to it.

Jia Jia, wearing a wig and long flowing robes, was unable to respond to questions about the number of letters in the English alphabet.

It's going to be a great interview, I'll ask the metal woman about the alphabet and the Great Wall, maybe slip in something about a turtle in a desert if there's time.

And when quizzed about where in China the country's Great Wall was located she paused before stating: "China!"

*checks Google* She's right!

Kelly, an authority on robotics and artificial intelligence, asked Jia Jia if she could talk about him. The robotic reply was unintelligible. 

It sure sounded like "Kill all humans" but my ears were probably wrong, what with just being rapidly dying biological material and all.

Chen Xiaoping, leader of the team, claimed Jia Jia was asked some "challenging" questions and failed to answer some.

Just because the average American would get it wrong doesn't make it "challenging."

Yet observers watching the conversation on a live stream expressed disappointment. "It does not work!" one commented, while another said: "It needs some major revamping." 

The real story should have been "Most Polite and Literate Commentators in History of Internet."

Full Story. 

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.  

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

News You Can't Use: DC Building Bans Balcony Banners

Anyone keeping a list of “Seemingly Harmless Things Ruined by Donald Trump, His Supporters, and His Detractors” can pencil in “banners that sports fans hang from their apartments”—at least in one building across the street from Nationals Park.

Another harmless thing ruined by the Democratic process and the fact that people are allowed to disagree for some reason. If we'd just eliminate all free expression, and we were making great progress until just recently by the way, we could go back to hanging banners. I feel a part of all of us has died.

Since the 11-story Camden South Capitol building opened in 2013, some residents of the units facing South Capitol Street—directly across from Nationals Park—have hung flags and pennants supporting DC’s baseball team.  

Do you like sports? Hey, great. I also enjoy sports. Clearly you can see the value of smoothing out unbelievably painful social interactions with our fellow biological work units, but dirty old politics is wrecking this.

“While we love our residents creativity and unique decorating, the time has come for us to remind all residents it is a lease violation if you…hang anything off of your balcony—yes this even include banners/flags supporting our beloved Washington Nationals,” reads the email from building manager Shaun Lambert.

We live in a nation of laws, as evidenced by our prisons packed with the wealthy and powerful who felt they could get away with things. Even your devotion to our beloved American Cricket squadron must be subsumed beneath the rule of law.

The likely inspiration for this sudden order, according to one resident, was a rush of political banners in the past few months, starting with a “Trump: Make America Great Again” flag that appeared shortly after last November’s election.

One guy was yelling this, so it seems plausible as an explanation.

But people in the building say it was the “Make America Great Again” flag that set off a sign war. An apartment one floor above the Trump-friendly apartment hung a flag proclaiming “Resist.”

We should be seeing "2 + 2 = 5" and "Ignorance is Strength" banners any day now.

The newest addition, which went up shortly before the start of baseball season, positions the word “Nope” accompanied by an upward arrow directly beneath the Trump sign.

My sophisticated and highly adult political discourse, full of cogent four-letter arguments.

And now, what was once a gallery of local sports fandom is just another political shouting match.

I just wanted to watch roided-up monsters hit dingers, but then you went all C-SPAN up in here.

 Mostly empty stadium offers advice to Congress.

His note also warns tenants against installing grills or household furniture, leaving unattended pets, and smoking on balconies.

I don't see how this pocket Hitler has the right to decide what I put in my mouth or how neglectful I am toward my furry friend-substitutes.

Tenants of Camden South Capitol who object to the redecoration order on First Amendment grounds are unlikely to prevail, according to Joel Cohn, the legislative director for DC’s Office of the Tenant Advocate.

When you signed that lease you gave up a lot of your inherent rights, sorry.

Komment Korner   

I wouldn't want to live in a building with different kind of flags all over it. although, i wouldn't want to live in DC either

Suppression of other people's speech is a FEDERAL CRIME under our civil rights laws.

Anyone keeping a list of “Seemingly Harmless Things Ruined by Capitalism and Contracts” can pencil in “Witty Criticism of Idiots in Shared Common Areas of Condos."

No smoking on your own balcony?

I'm not even going to click on those hashtags.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.