Wednesday, September 6, 2017

News You Can't Use: Denver Nurses Suspended for Opening Body Bag to Admire Man’s Genitals

By now we've all marveled at the heroic nurse in Utah who obeyed the hospital's rules even under pain of arrest and we've all expressed our deep admiration with various yellow "emotion faces" and poorly worded and spelled praise. Life keeps moving, however, and today's newest hero nurses are probably a bit below the high standard of professional that was said on the fateful day in the Beehive State. On the other hand, "penis," which is never not funny or wildly entertaining.

Five nurses at Denver Health Medical Center were suspended for three weeks after they inappropriately viewed a deceased patient’s body and talked about it, a hospital spokesman confirmed to Denver7 Investigates Tuesday.

Every painful rep in the gym, every foul-tasting glass of water mingled with peppermint flavor gorilla combat powder, every doughnut and beer heroically refused, all of physical culture in general points toward this end goal: having nurses get all excited over your dead body. Look at the abs on that cadaver! Man, you can tell this deadster avoided junk food. Died anyway, but still.

A tip to Denver7 said the nurses disciplined admired the size of the deceased patient’s genitals and at one point opened a body bag to view parts of the body. A hospital spokesman confirmed details of the incident.

You can make your own joke about "stiffs," I'm way too classy and intellectual to sink to that level.

A different nurse heard one of the disciplined nurses make a comment in May that the nurse felt was inappropriate and reported it to hospital staff, Denver Health Medical Center spokesman Josh Rasmussen said.

In other words there's usually some warning signs before your Obama Care professional becomes obsessed with deceased reproductive organs.

“Multiple staff members viewed the victim while he was incapacitated, including after he was deceased,” a Denver Police report says. “The complainant, Risk Management for Denver Health, made a mandatory report.”
 

I want all of you to stop giggling and enforce the law.

 That common male fantasy of being injected with radioactive material.

Denver Police confirm they responded to the incident but say the decision was made to have Denver Health Medical Center handle the issue internally.

Anyone who makes a joke about "handling this internally" will be immediately arrested, so don't even think about it.


Komment Korner   

Perverts, all of them.

What a shame.

I work with dozens of male nurses. You are grossly out of date. And they are great nurses as well!

Well, you have one thing right, I would never hang out with or date someone who thinks jokes disparaging others are funny.

My friends make fun of me for a wide variety of reasons. I have thick skin.


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

Friday, August 25, 2017

News You Can't Use: Brazen Booze Thief Busted

Paying for your "booze" to create "black outs" is a bit of a trick bag, but what other options are there? Well, for a semi-literate piece of human garbage who believes there's a divine hand behind making bond after being arrested for theft, the solution is obvious. You just steal, get your wrist slapped and even gain minor "celebrity" courtesy of your horrible behavior that damages society. I mean, we've all winced at those ridiculous Gray Goose price tags, so this scumbag is sort of like a hero or something. This is civil disobedience against the high cost of "gettin' yo goose on."

A Louisiana woman yesterday surrendered to police after video of her brazen theft of booze from a Shreveport liquor store was released by a local crime stoppers group.

"Gentlemen, I have something to confess. I stole those bottles of night train. I now take up the suffering so my soul can be purified and redeemed in the crucible of just punishment."

Sekonie Jones, 37, was booked on a misdemeanor theft charge and subsequently bonded out of jail.

Well, it's not like we can punish everyone and we need to make room for political criminals.

As seen in the above surveillance footage, Jones last week swiped numerous bottles of alcohol from the Thrifty Discount Liquor & Wines store. It appears that security personnel were familiar with Jones since cameras began following her upon her entrance into the business.

Despite this vigilance, a morbidly obese woman with an I.Q. somewhere in the seventies was still able to pull off this incredible caper.

Jones--wearing a t-shirt with the words “Too Glam To Care”--stuffed bottles in her bag, bra, and underwear. Jones appears to have been aided by a younger woman.

I love the New York Dolls and I really don't care what you think about that.


The investigators were familiar with Jones since her lengthy rap sheet includes convictions for disturbing the peace; criminal damage; driving without a license; drinking in public; and five separate theft cases.

I'm sure she'll learn her lesson this time, unlike the previous fifty arrests.

In a Facebook post Wednesday, Jones declared that, “I hustle that's what I do ain't nobody gone give me SHIT.” She added, “please mind ur business and stay out mines please I'm going to turn myself in and bond out like I have before.”

Another public school success story.

In posts this morning, Jones wrote, “it s true what I did and it is what it is never did I think it would be this big” and “Lord i wake up i got 125 friend request, 2different news reporters want an interview with me ppl was willing to bond me out,lord I never would have thought this would end up like this.”

Friend requests and offers to fill local news slots with "look at this human horror show" train-wreck interviews? Truly, we have witnessed the Just Hand of God.


Komment Korner    


wow.. she sure sounds proud of her ... celebrity is it?

What a waste of oxygen, and tax dollars, and skin... lots of skin.

I hang people for a living. It's what I do.

Based on what I can see, it's CLEAR that she rarely hustles anywhere.


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

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

News You Can't Use: Former Los Altos Baseball Player Sues Coach After Being Benched

What happens when you combine "everyone is a winner" societal delusion with a growing tendency to weaponize our legal system after you still somehow catch a case of hurt feelings? I don't know, but it could hypothetically express itself via a failed American Cricket player suing his high school coach after getting the old pine ride. Incredibly, this has actually occurred, so here we are discussing how litigation can now get you out on the field where you'll then presumably be handed success by a fully compliant opponent, just like that one lucky kid who was dying of cancer.

A former Los Altos High School student and baseball player is suing the school district and his former coach for hundreds of thousands of dollars because the coach repeatedly benched him.

If only I'd known that failing to succeed in amateur sports was something that could be monetized. Instead of a handful of bad memories I'd have a cart full of petrodollars.

According to the suit, the school’s head varsity baseball coach, Gabriel Lopez, repeatedly refused to let 17-year-old Robbie Lopez, no relation, play throughout his senior year.

Sadly, we can't add "reverse nepotism" to this already amazing Trial of the Century.

The suit claims this constituted a pattern of “harassment and bullying.”

"I think I'll have you come in as a late-game defensive substitute instead of starting." This is bullying! I'm a victim! Safe space, safe space!!! Now, where's my six figure settlement for this crime against humanity?

Hacienda La Puente Unified athletic director Andrew Formano and assistant superintendent of human resources Jill Rojas both said they could not comment on the matter. Gabriel Lopez did not respond to a request for comment.

Stone-walling and "I have no comment," it's now something your high school sports concern can do!

The boy’s father, Robert Lopez II, believed the coach’s decision to bench his son throughout the season was because he complained to the district’s athletic director after a disagreement over a fundraising game.
 

If you've ever seen baseball, with the endless downtime and glacial "looks like you're out, too" progress, you know there's plenty of opportunities to complain about fundraising until we get sick of it and decide to punish you with reduced bat-time.

“For over four (4) months and 14 games, (Robbie Lopez) has been benched and not the opportunity to show his offensive or defensive capabilities,” the suit states. 

After over five (5) minutes of reading this I've mostly lost my faith in humanity capabilities.

Michael Ponce, the lawyer representing Robbie Lopez and his parents, said the prolonged period of relegating him to the bench is “an abuse of the coach’s discretion.”

I'm not sure how, since that's something the coach is supposed to regulate, but on the other hand we're all gonna get rich.

“These are repeated actions by the coach, which we feel, my client and I, as well as his father, feel are intentional. They’re targeted against (my client) specifically.”

Instead of drawing the line-up out of a hat, like you're supposed to, he specifically targeted individuals.

 Don't force me to "lawyer up."

Ponce referred to a recent case in South Carolina in which a cheerleader claimed she was bullied by her coach, who made “derogatory comments about (the student’s) private body parts, causing other students to laugh at” her.

...and this is clearly the exact same thing. As the cheer team might say: Bubble gum, bubble gum. Pop. Pop. Pop. We think your frivolous lawsuit is a flop.

Ponce claimed what happened to his client was “more egregious” than the South Carolina example.

Yeah. Really. 

But in a phone interview, Ponce did not give any examples of derogatory comments the coach made to the teenager. And no examples of insulting comments by the coach were presented in the lawsuit.

Being forced to pinch-hit, it's similar to derogatory remarks about your sex parts making everyone laugh at you, maybe worse.

Full Article.

Komment Korner

Maybe the kid just wasn't a good player? 

So let's assume the kid is a good player and the lawsuit has merit. What would propose as a solution then?

About time someone sues that school. Had my run in 4 years ago in Football. Went to the office and they just told me that the coaches make all the decisions. Now they school can pay for that BS. All they did was give the ball to 3 kids the whole season. The Center, the TB then the running back.

You do what the coach says. That is rule no. 1, 2, 3, and 4. And the fifth rule is repeat rules 1-4. Nonsense.


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

Saturday, August 12, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part IV

Last time on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met Wily Wonka's less successful but equally self-righteous younger brother, a hero of the common man swore impotently while getting cuffed, the Alabama T-1000 smashed a window and some crazy woman took over a house because possession is nine-tenths and all that. Now we're back after another long break (It's summer! There's warm weather, fun beach activities and I get to show off my arms in public!) and it just keeps getting better, I will assume based on no evidence whatsoever.

Either way, we hit the ground running with yet another Article Four Free Inhabitant running afoul of highway revenue collectors. Our new hero announces he's not turning off his "live stream," in a bizarre sing-song voice no less, all but giving us notarized proof of his membership in Generation Nothing. We're always "streaming" those misfortunes, we hold camera phones like protective amulets and generally use technology as a stand-in for old fashioned disassociative psychoses. He's also not going to obey the instructions of the jack boot squad, but you're a Sovereign Citizen and Free Man of the Land, so that was already implied. The more of a grueling and violent ordeal we can make this routine stop, the more we have stood up for our sacred freedom to drive like a lunatic or not bother with license plates, these being some of most basic rights given by nature and nature's God.

Soon to be the fifth face on Mount Rushmore.

The bespectacled traveler refuses a request to get out of the vehicle, claiming he "does not feel safe." It's pretty disappointing stuff, actually. This is the part where you're supposed to explain how your car isn't really a car and a treaty from 1745 gives you the right to run stop signs. Despite this breach of Free Man decorum the unseen officer promises a trip to the green bar motel if compliance isn't obtained. Forget you, man, it's totally worth it to spent time in the jug if it means I don't have to voluntarily open a car door. Or, "For resisting WHAT!?!" if you prefer.

But it's a lawful order! More like an awful order, right? Whoa man, far out. Is that freedom rock you're playing, by the way?

Sadly, the door is opened after some more threats and the best the defeated livestreamer can manage is timidly asking if the fascists would stop yelling. Now they broke you, man. Next thing you'll be talking about how much you love Big Brother. Anyway, here's your ticket, time to sign it like the meaningless corporate bar code you've become. "Why are you being so aggressive?" Well, I got the idea from a cheer I heard at a high school football game.

Bubble gum, bubble gum, pop pop pop, we think your Orwellian police state is a flop. Important note: pom poms may be required for this cheer, consult with your coach.

We don't get an answer to why the aggression is occurring. Instead, there's stereo demands to sign the ticket from both unseen stasi. More back and forth, plus there's some debate over a flashlight and the decision is finally made not to sign this contract with the devil after all. Yes! Down with the beast system! The fact that you briefly doubted yourself makes you more a hero, not less of one. Then the strong-arming and thuggery kicks off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tonight on "Arresting Joey Lawrence."

"Stop resisting!" Fade to black. 

Without even pausing to reflect on the amazing morality play we just witnessed it's time for another confrontation with the so-called legitimate authorities. My professor told me to question everything and I accepted that uncritically. In this confrontation our identity figure is already under arrest, so we can skip the "Am I being detained?" foreplay and get to the good stuff (glass breaking, tasers, pitiful wailing, etc). A police dog (two legs bad, four legs even worse) apparently detected contraband in the means of travel and the Free Man now asks to confront the dog. I'm not even joking. For real, this happens. Who is a furry tool of tyranny? You are, boy! Yes, you are!

 No pasaran, dog! Bad dog!

The discussion turns to the planned removal of the man who did nothing wrong from his conveyance, countered with more blanket denials of any wrong-doing. It's now time for what we all came for: the destruction of automotive windows. Sometimes I think the whole Sovereign Citizen movement was a psy-op created by Auto Glass Specialists to drive business their way. "Close your eyes!" Yup, here it comes baby. You ready for it? Uhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Our humble narrator adds an annotation stating he didn't see anything else because his eyes were closed. Will peek-a-boo prevent this ridiculous usurpation? We're about to find out. Using what looks like one of those little hammers a doctor employs to test your knee response, the faceless representative of totalitarian nightmares smashes the glass and then immediately deploys the taser! This is the Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned equivalent of the double jackpot. The blind guardian of freedom starts howling and I think I need a cigarette. 

Hey, it's a quick update on the crazy lady who took over a house from last time! The fake news anchor informs us she's learning "how much time she'll spend behind bars" so I guess that whole "move into a house that's for sale and start living in it" master plan might have had some weaknesses. Still, our undocumented homeowner is claiming to be "Moorish-American" and that "laws don't apply to her" so I'm sure the judge will ignore the most basic first principles of property ownership that our entire civilization was built upon because she said the magic words. 

For now, we're left in suspense.



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

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

News You Can't Use: Anger Rooms Are All the Rage

It's time for another story that just screams "societal health" and "Edward Gibbon didn't write about this sort of thing." It's an amazing tale about how ostensible adults (millennials, so call that one a push, to be fair) have been reduced to special smash rooms to cure the ennui that sometimes arises from having "whatever my professor told me" as a unifying belief system. Yes, it's time to wreck material objects to temporarily cure the massive void within and if we can earn a few federal reserve play-money notes in the process, well we are capitalists again now that whats-his-name went back to his native Hawaii or Indonesia or whatever.

Smashing things may not seem at first blush to be a winning idea to wrap a business around.

A demolition business? Removing decrepit buildings to make way for new and better construction. That's just, like, not a winning idea. Stick with this B-boy Crew, that's where the real money is.

Since March, however, nearly 1,500 people have shown up to break housewares, electronics and furniture at the Wrecking Club, two reinforced rooms in the basement of a building in the garment district of Manhattan.

New York don't play, sucka. My idea of weekend recreation is smashing a fudging microwave and putting the boots to a living room set. You in the garment district now, fool. Get out while you still got yo' life.

Many of this number are couples looking for something more piquant than the usual date-night fare, said Tom Daly, the Wrecking Club’s proprietor.

I've finally found a good place to take my "fatal attraction" head-case. You can just pretend you're killing my daughter's rabbit and then cooking it.

“That’s the cool thing about addressing an instinct,” he said on a recent steamy afternoon. “Everyone’s got it.”

Nihilistic and pointless destruction, the common glue that unites all of humanity. Who hasn't wanted to kick the stuff out of a love seat or whatever? If you said "no," you're a liar.

Last fall, politics drove the business at the Anger Room, which opened in Dallas in 2008. 

A city populated by costumed junkies, mole people and dangerous break-dancers and the one that shot Kennedy. These are the best sources of that highly non-decadent modern culture.

Clients showed up by the hundreds to batter human effigies of Hillary Clinton and Donald J. Trump.

We've said it before and we'll say it again: democracy is bad.

“We’ve helped a lot of angry couples,” said Stephen Shew, the owner. (His date-night package, $70 for two electronic devices and 20 items of crockery, from lawn gnomes to ceramic vases, is wildly popular on Valentine’s Day.)

Pleasuring yourself while openly weeping is also popular on that day, but I'm not sure how I can monetize that.

A starter session costs $30 for 30 minutes with two or three electronic devices and a bucket of dishes. 

You're paying for your time with the dishes. Whatever you mutually agree to do while together has nothing to do with the "donation" you already paid.

Die, flatware!!!

Sometimes people donate things, Mr. Daly said, adding that everything smashed at the Wrecking Club is properly recycled.
 
See, it's not wasteful idiocy from adult babies. We're saving the environment.

Mr. Daly has happy memories of demolishing a swing set in his parents’ backyard, at their request, after he and his siblings had left home, and these sparked his imagination.

I have warm fuzzy memories of busting swings.

“I wanted it to have a Brooklyn-in-the-1990s vibe. I think he crushed it.”

This is a joke. Why aren't you laughing?

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, 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 in 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. Additional 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.