Meet Mudd, Jackmeoff Mudd. When you are born with the name Jackmeoff it’s damn near guaranteed that you are going to be arrested for assault, disorderly conduct, resisting arrest, and being drunk in public. It’s not my opinion, it is just a scientific fact. Sure you can try and go by Jack. Wear a suit and tie. Hob knob with the corporate bigwigs. But at some point in time you are going to live up to your name. Maryland does crab cakes and football; Jackmeoff Mudd punches cops while piss drunk; and Bitter Lawyer does weird news:
Let’s get weird.
Russell Neff has been accused of breaking and entering into a Maryland home. He is also charged with stripping down to his underwear, licking on the remote control and cooking a chicken pot pie he found in the freezer. Can’t knock that hustle. Chicken pot pies are fucking delicious. Especially the ones with the crust on the bottom. Deliciousness. And stripping down to your underwear. Why not? Slacks are too restrictive. Why else do police claim they found Russell “quite comfortable in the homeowner’s leather recliner.” Pants are for squares. However, you kind of lose me with the remote licking. I don’t know what you are going for there. Maybe you dropped some pot pie filling on it. That would make sense. Seriously, I need a pot pie with nuclear hot filling that will absolutely destroy the roof of my mouth and I need it yesterday. Foodgasm.
A police department in Massachusetts is being retrained on how to properly shut the jail cell door after two inmates walked straight out of the North Reading Police Department. Chief
Wiggum Murphy has stated it wasn’t a mechanical error, but human error that allowed the inmates to escape and (somehow) avoid detection although the cell was allegedly checked every 30 minutes. Police were informed of The Great Escape via a suspect’s mother calling to inform authorities her son was hiding in a family member’s attic. People wonder why defense lawyers are so successful. It’s not too difficult when these are who they are matching their wits against.
Has anyone ever wondered who thought Crocs were a good idea — other than Mario Batali. Apparently inventing them doesn’t get you the street cred that you probably don’t deserve. George Boedecker, the multimillionaire founder of the Crocs shoe empire, has been arrested and charged with drunk driving after he was found passed out at the wheel of his Porsche. The charge is a bunch of B.S. according to Boedecker. The Crocs king told police that his girlfriend, “a really fucking famous” singer, was driving but bolted the car after they got into an argument. Later Boedecker informed the officer his girlfriend was Taylor Swift.
So that is who Taylor Swift is Never Ever Getting Back Together with. Seriously though, Taylor Swift isn’t dating a guy wearing Crocs let alone the inventor of them. Those are clown shoes bro. Maybe the inventor of Air Force One’s, but I think that was Nelly. Then again this makes sense. Anyone who is crazy enough to look at Crocs and say “Yeah those would be a good choice to wear” is probably crazy enough to claim they are dating someone like Taylor Swift. George’s mistake was choosing T. Swift. He should have said he was dating Lindsay Lohan . . . far more believable that she would flea from a car accident.
P.S. Are we sure T. Swift wasn’t in the car? If she comes out with a song about running away from love (and a car in the middle of Colorado) things are going to get real interesting.
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