Welp, my weekend changed dramatically this week. I was under the impression I was going to be $640 million richer on Friday. Really makes you alter the plans when that doesn’t pan out. Nonetheless, the jackpot will be forgotten by next week. Seriously, how short is our attention span?
Mega millions has come and gone. Linsanity has turned into a Linjury. All of a sudden people realize that grinding up a cow is pretty gross. It’s almost refreshing to have a blast from the past like Octomom in the news. Nadya Suleman has turned to welfare in order to help pay the bills. I would say porn is the logical next step but her downstairs has got to be destroyed . . . like a Carnegie Deli sandwich.
Shelley Lynn is suing McDonald’s for turning her into a prostitute. Wait. What? Lynn, a former prostitute, claims she was coerced into prostitution by her boss, Keith Handley, and because McDonald’s “paid her minimum wage, offered a poor health care plans and no benefits, and had no system for filing grievances against employers who abused their power.” Further, according to the complaint, “Handley also engaged in pimping operations out of the McDonald’s franchises he owned.”
Let me get this straight, Shelley. You got to eat McDonalds, have sex, and get paid, and you are complaining? What planet am I on? Those are three of my favorite things in the world: Big Macs, sex, and dolla dolla bills. Throw in some booze and sports and that sounds like a pretty fantastic life. “Ba da bop bop baaa, I’m lovin’ it.”
A brawl erupted at a 15-year-old’s birthday party in Texas this week, leaving one person killed and seven people injured. Police say four victims were shot, including an 11-year-old child, two people stabbed and two others beaten. Apparently the violence erupted over an argument after the party ran out of beer. Partygoer, Jesus Loya, 14, stated, “It was okay. A lot of people were drinking and stuff, other than that, nothing bad.”
Umm, okay Jesus. Just your standard Texas birthday party. Guns, knives, fisticuffs; Brick killed a man with a trident. Nonetheless, if the title of the event says “party” you can’t run out of booze. Up until the last candle is blown out I better have a drink in my hand. No chance I am willing to watch kids suck at playing pin the tail on the donkey without being loaded. Ice cream cake and booze—two things that are required if you don’t want to get stabbed. That’s a promise.
Across the pond, police rushed to a house after hearing heavy breathing during an emergency call. Unable to communicate with the caller, police busted into the house only to find George, a two-year-old Basset Hound, with the telephone wire stuck around his neck. As George panicked, he was able to ring for help. George’s neighbor, Paul Walker, who was helping the police, was able to rip the wire away from the hound’s throat.
As much as I love George’s style, I’m going to have to call shenanigans. Not because dogs are unable to call 911 but because the phone was apparently one of the old rotary phones. I’m sorry, George, but that’s bullshit. Nobody has those phones anymore. How does a basset hound even know how to use one of those? I don’t even know how to use one. I’m not saying you are lying, George, but there is a lot of grey area in this story. One thing is for sure: a cat would have just died. Too smug to admit she needed help.
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