Can't They Leave The Dollar Alone?

Apparently, the folks over there at the US Mint have a lot of time on their hands. Not too much time, though. They seem to have enough time to dream up more ridiculous items to introduce into the US currency system, but they don't seem to have enough time to put a lot of effort into creating something that people will a) use; b) want; c) not repeatedly mock the design. They also don't seem to have enough time to noodle through the concept that the US does not want a dollar coin. That's the only explanation for why they keep trying to cram these things down our throats year after year after year.

It would seem that the Mint guys think that it's the image on the coin that's the problem. Yes! That's it! If we just change who is on the coin THAT will make the American people love the dollar coin! We just haven't come up with the right images yet! Why didn't we realize before now that it's images of the first eight Presidents that all Americans are clammoring for? That will make them want to carry around a bunch of metal in their pockets!

Um, not so much. But do they care? Of course not. So that's why they're introducing a whole bunch of brand new dollar coins with, you guessed it, a whole bunch of brand new images, starting with those from the first eight Presidents. Now, aside from that lunacy however, is the matter of the design upon said new coins.

Look at the image below, would you? That is Andrew Jackson. By simply looking at the image on the coin, one could draw the conclusion that not only will this coin commemorate the seventh President of the United States, but it will also promote stroke awareness to the 12 people who actually use the dollar coin. What is wrong with his face?!

Then we have the James Madison coin. Going with just the image on the coin alone, I have concluded that James Madison was not only our fourth President, he was also a distant relative of the comic villain Two-Face.

Here we have John Adams. Presumedly, the artist for this coin thought that it would be appropriate if the second President of the US (who was a side-kick to the first President) looked more like Higgins (who was a side-kick to Magnum, P.I.).















Then there's George Washington. When comparing the image of George to that of the Presidential spouses, you can see the strikingly creepy resemblance that he bears to Mrs. Abigail Adams, the wife of the Presidential side-kick (not the Tom Selleck side-kick) shown above..

James Monroe, the fifth President, appears to have been the undocumented father of Abraham Lincoln. And if you're going on the basis of this coin alone, one could draw the conclusion that he was known as "James, Our Most Effeminate President".

John Quincy Adams, shown at the left, would appear to be, in fact, the great-great-great grandfather of Joan Collins, shown here. The resemblance is striking, yes?

And our eighth president, the actor Christopher Lloyd. Oh, wait! Sorry. Got confused. Van Buren. Martin Van Buren was the eighth President. (You can see where I was led astray, can't you?)

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Dogs - What NOT To Do To Them

There is no way I possibly could have known that there would be a need to tell people "Dogs don't wear clothes", "Dogs shouldn't be pink" "Dogs don't have civic duties", etc. But, turns out, there was a need to mention those things because people, apparently, do these things with their dogs. But here's another one I have to add to the list: If you cut off a dog's ear, don't glue it back on. You moron, you.

Seems that a woman in Gig Harbor, Washington, went to wash some dirt off of little Jasmine's (that's the dog) ear. That's when the ear fell off. The veterinarian that she took little Jasmine to said that the ear had been cut off (duh) and super-glued back on, presumably by the unlicensed dog groomer that the dog was taken to. Huh.

The woman, Anni Sheriffius, said, "I saw the ear float away, and it freaked me out." I can imagine she was freaked out. I didn't see the ear float away and I'm a little freaked out. (Wait. Float away where? Was she bathing her dog in a stream? Some nearby river? The North Pacific Subtropical Gyre? Where was she that the ear would "float away"?)She said that she has been crying for weeks at the thought of someone hurting her dog (understandable) and that she still has the ear in a bag (Not so understandable. What? Still has the ear "in a bag"? For weeks?! For the purpose of what?! Wait. What about the "floating away" part? Huh. Regardless, I thought I was a little freaked out before. Yeah, I wasn't. I am now, but I wasn't then. Sorry. My mistake.)

The sheriff's department is looking into possible animal cruelty charges against the unlicensed dog groomer. Detective Ed Troyer said this about the matter, "Once they tried to hide it and glued the ear back on, that's not good for the dog." NO kidding?! I'm thinking that the gluing on is the least of the dog's problem. I'm thinking that the "gluing on" problem comes at some point AFTER the "cutting off" problem. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm right there with you, Ed. Especially when you mentioned that it's "not good for the dog". No, it definitely is not good for the dog (or for any other dog, for that matter).But I'm thinking the cutting off of the ear was "not good for the dog" as well. This whole thing is "not good for the dog" if you're asking me!

Ms. Sheriffius has stated that she would like it if the groomer would "never ever touch another dog." I'm with her on that one. I'd also like it if she would never, ever touch super glue either.

In conclusion, I'd like to state the obvious by saying that if you cut off the ear of a dog, do not glue it back on. There. It's been said. Problem solved.

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Hookers. Not Just For Governors Anymore

It probably wouldn't surprise you to learn that a man was arrested in Sarasota, Florida for soliciting a prostitute. It might surprise you to learn that the man was 93. It surprised the hell out of me.

Frank Milio, a 93 year old gent with, apparently, quite a bit of energy allegedly offered a prostitute (who was really an undercover officer. Yeah, they're sneaky like that.) money for sex. He, of course, has denied the charges. I'd be inclined to believe him (he is 93, after all) except that the cops say that he offered the fake hooker twenty bucks.

Excuse me, sir? It's not 1930! We've made it out of the Great Depression just fine! This country is flourishing! Happy days are here again! Especially for the hookers! If you travel up north to the New York Governor's mansion, you'll learn that those whores want at least a couple of grand. And you offer someone twenty bucks? You're lucky you only got arrested and not smacked upside the head for insulting the fake hooker with your lousy twenty bucks. I don't care how old you are, have some dignity, man!

But wait! There's more! More, as in another 93 year old man (Was it like Field Trip Day at the Retirement Home or what?) who also found himself on the wrong end of the undercover sting. (Probably not literally. He's 93. Being on the wrong end of anything, let alone a hooker, could kill the poor guy.) Apparently Carlos Underhill told the hooker that he was going to return in a few hours with some money to pay for said sexual encounters. And, no, he didn't come back with only twenty bucks. Geez. Think he'd be that lame? Of course not.

He came back with $30.

Again, the year is 2008. (Granted, crappy economy, falling stocks, depressed housing market, bank debacles, etc., I can see how one who is 93 might mistake the current year as one during the Great Depression Era. And thirty bucks back then probably would have gotten you a hooker for at least a week. Maybe he had high hopes, I don't know. Whatever it was, he shouldn't be running around the hooker areas(or any areas, for that matter) of Florida unsupervised.) Besides, he said it wasn't for sex. He said he just wanted to talk. Carlos told the cops, "I am 93, after all." Yeah, Carlos. You are 93. And yet you're still out trolling for whores. Perhaps you should start reminding yourself that you're 93.

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TMI, Governor. TMI

Remember the Governor of New York (home to horrible salsa, apparently)? The one who had cheated on his wife? Right. And he admitted it publicly? Yeah, him. OK, now....oh, wait? You thought I meant Eliot Spitzer, aka Client 9, who was discovered to have been frequenting prostitutes (hookers, whores, etc.) and ended up holding a press conference to admit to this and to resign as Governor? Yeah, I could see where you'd get confused, but I didn't mean him. I was referring to the new Governor. (You can't be THAT shocked, can you? OK, a little.)

David (Of course he's named Dave!) Paterson became New York's first black and first legally blind Governor (No! Not Ray Charles! David Paterson. Paterson is Governor of New York!) when Idiot, er, Eliot Spitzer resigned because apparently New York cannot have a Governor who pays for sex with prostitutes. (Spitzer's hooker, a one Ashley Alexander Dupre, could be described as looking extremely whore-a-licious. Cute girl. I just wish she wasn't a hooker.)

Shortly after he was sworn in as Governor, Paterson admitted to having more than one extramarital affair in his marriage. His wife admitted the same. They've both cheated on each other. Grand. I don't know if that was exactly the time to bring that up. I mean, the other guy just got ousted for stuff like this. Yeah, it's different, but it's also the same! It just seemed like more than I really needed to know. (Well, actually, when he said that he and his wife went to the same hotel he had his affairs at when they were attempting to "reconcile with each other" (ie, make-up sex). THAT was definitely more than I needed to know.)

But he wasn't quite done with his public confessional just yet. Hell, no, there's more. Today's revelation? Why, cocaine and marijuana usage. Of course!

Paterson said, in regard to cocaine, that he had "tried it a couple of times" when he was "about 22 or 23." (I'm thinking that the "22 or 23" would actually be the number of times he did a line or two.) And in regard to the marijuana, Paterson said "And marijuana probably when I was about 20. I don't think I touched marijuana since the '70s." (Translation: Smoked every day, before and after class in college and all day on the weekends.) Look, if you're saying that you "don't think" you touched it, you touched it all right. You touched it all over in places that would make it blush and you liked it! He's a pothead.

When he finally realized that this confessional was coming out of his own mouth, he tried to placate matters by saying, "...more Americans have tried a lot more during that period of time and gone on to lead responsible lives and hopefully have lived their lives to their fullest."

Let's look at that statement a little bit closer. More Americans than what? Than you? More than one?! Yeah, I'd say that's a fair estimate. It's lame, but it would be accurate. Also, what "period of time" is he referring to? The seventies? Our 20s? And by throwing in the "hopefully" I'd say that easily translates into "hopefully they're buying this". Wow.

Dude, I guess I appreciate the honesty and all, but I really could have done without. I mean, the Governor of New York has basically come out and said that he has cheated on his wife, snorted coke and DID inhale that smoke from the bong (and apparently enjoyed it as did most Americans). It just doesn't sound all that great. True? Yes (well, apparently). Poetic? Not so much. I'm a little nervous about any future revelations. What else is there? Clubbed a couple of baby seals in college, did ya? Knocked up a nun? Tripped a midget? There IS such a thing as too much information (TMI), Governor. And this is it. (Please, let this be it.)

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Odds and Weak Ends

So, in Bay City, Michigan, police went to the home of a 50-year old woman to serve her with a petition for a mental health examination. The woman responded by hitting the serving officer over the head with a shovel. Why, oh, why could someone have wanted to do a mental health examination on someone like that, I wonder? Puzzling, indeed.

The fine folks over there at thesun.co.uk would get along just great with the guys from the New York Post. With the way that the Post guys write headlines and the way that the Sun guys write their articles, it's a match made in heaven, I'll tell you that. The Sun, reporting on the possibility that Lindsay Lohan might have hooked up with her gay DJ pal Samantha Ronson, lead off their article with this "tongue in cheek" sentence, "LINDSAY LOHAN has got tongues wagging over a possible new relationship." Lesbians, tongues wagging, Lindsay...it's all the stuff mid-morning fantasies are made of.

In Australia, an 81-year old man died after eating fish with an asparagus cream based sauce at a restaurant. Tests were performed on the sauce after the death and found that there was a large amount of bacteria present. The large amount of bacteria could have grown in the sauce from the sauce being left out for up to seven hours on some sort of a bench in the kitchen where the temperature was around 30C. The sauce had also possibly been reheated and re-refrigerated several times during a 48 hour hour period as well.

Now, these things don't turnip often, but when they do, they don't leave mushroom for optimism. Lettuce artichoke back the tears, endive into more pressing matters.

And, just so I don't end on THAT note, let's top things off with a little mugshot goodness from the week that was.

I cannot even begin to fathom the story behind this one.

Now, to be fair, while I don't advocate tattooing anything on the front of one's dome, at least it doesn't say "Psycho" or "Git-R-Dun" and he kind of looks embarrassed about it all.

This is obviously some sort of "Before and After" or "With and Without" mugshot (that I did not know existed). I just don't know which is "before" and which is "after".

And finally, we have "Mugshot - The Flashdance Years."

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Jimmy's F-ing Ben Affleck, but HE'S F-ing a Picnic Table!

Now, when I said that the UK gets a lot of stuff right and that the US should really pay attention, I certainly didn't mean that everything that the UK does is right and that those in the US should start imitating it immediately. God, no, I didn't mean that. Clearly, I was misunderstood, as a man in Bellevue, Ohio has been arrested for having sex with a picnic table.

A one Arthur Price was arrested after a police investiation which was initiated when someone gave police 3 DVDs which showed Mr. Price having sexual relations with the round, metal picnic table on his deck. How hot.

In case you were wondering (I know you were), he walks out to the deck, tilts the table on it's side and then, that's right, boinks it. There was also footage on the DVDs of him and the picnic table in his bedroom getting on some sweet, sweet lovin'. (I'm guessing it was raining that day or something, so he rolled the ol' girl into the house.)

When police questioned him, he freely admitted to doing the picnic table, in the house and on the deck and he also admitted that footage of him performing such acts was "captured on DVDs". Was captured? That makes it sound like some dude was just walking along with his cell phone, saw this extremely unnatural phenomenon and decided to get some footage of it so that he could upload it to YouTube later on that evening. But when the "footage" involves a guy, a metal picnic table, a bedroom and a penis, the only "footage" that would be "captured" would be that which he would be taking of himself! And the table! Together as one! Oh, my God! And I almost forgot, WTF?! WTF?! WTF?!
It's worth noting that this guy lives near an elementary school. It's also worth breathing a sigh of relief that he was arrested and charged with four counts of public indecency.

You know, I've picked out my fair share of patio furniture in my life. But when I was choosing patio furniture, I was thinking things like, "Will it fit on the patio?" "What if it rains?" "Does it go with the rest of the yard?" But this guy clearly had a completely different frame of mind when choosing his outdoor furniture. He's thinking, "How big is that umbrella hole?" "Will my mother like her?" "Does it tilt and roll easily?" "Heeeyyyy. Come here often?" It also gives a whole new meaning to Home Depot's slogan, "You can do it. We can help." (Sweet mother of God, I hope that they don't. This would be one time when their crappy customer service would be more than welcomed.)

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Next Up The Fuzzy Peach Felons

I don't understand the whole "gang" thing. OK, I understand what a "gang" is and I understand what and who "gang members" are. That I get. Here's what I don't get. What I don't get is how these guys, who want to come across as being all bad ass and tough and all of that, always have the stupidest names for their gangs and always seem to have the stupidest nicknames for themselves.

Case in point: The Grape Street Crips. OK, I'm sure they think that by throwing "Crips" in there that it totally negates the fact that they also threw "Grape Street" in there as well. "Crips" at least has some sort of stigma associated with it. ( I always think that it sounds like "Crisps" and it makes me think of bad ass breakfast cereals. It also makes me think that they really should have thought that one through a little bit more.) It also kind of reminds me of that 70s TV show "The Banana Splits". (Only that show was for entertaining small children, not for manufacturing and distributing PCP to the masses.) A federal grand jury in Los Angeles returned a ten count indictment against a bunch of Grapes for making, dealing, using, loving, etc. PCP. Nice job, FBI guys. Nice job.

So, who are The Genius Ten of Grape Street? Well, this is where the part about the idiot nicknames comes in. I present to you...A Bunch Of Grapes:

~ Alphonso Eugene Foster, also known as "Al Foster," also known as "G-Al," 38 (G-Al?? Real intimidating there, Alphonso.)

~ Kim Vernell Walker, also known as "Plex," 45 (Plex? Du? Cine? Multi? Dumbass?)

~ Michael Edward Baker, also known as "Butter," also known as "B-Mike," 33 (Next indictment, his cousin, Margarine, also known as "Oleo"

~ Latera Kyesha Lashana Odom, also known as "Kisha," 25 (OK, none of those names are real.)

~ ML Scott, also known as "Rainbow," also known as "Bow," 43 (Introducing his sidekicks "Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Brite and My Little Pony).

~ Kelvin Benn, also known as "Down," 31 (In this case, as in "going down")

~ Ronell Napier, also known as "Foe," 38 (Yeah, dude. You're going to prison...Foe sho'!)

~ Darcell Morris, also known as "D," also known as "Da," also known as "Dar" (So much easier for this guy if his name just stops at one of the first three letters. Kind of ironic that he leaves out the "-cell" and yet, that's where he wound up. Oh, the humanity.)

~ Lydia Lenora Brown, also known as "Lydia," 49 (She couldn't go with Lyd? Or Ly? Or L?)

~ Johnnie Lee Boyd Sr., also known as "John Lee," 47 (General Lee was already taken by the car from "Dukes of Hazzard".)

~ Charlotte Wright Jackson, also known as "Charlotte," 46 (I suppose I'm glad a 46 year old woman on PCP doesn't have a nickname.)

~ Jamilah Latifa Terrell, also known as "Porky," 26 (Not the most flattering choice there, um, sir? Ma'am? I can't tell. I just can't.)

~ Anthony Rondele Robinzine, also known as "Bam," 38 (Somehow, I don't think he will be mistaken for the Emeril guy, even with the "Bam" name.)

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The Best Way To Find Closure

Have I mentioned that I love lists? I do. I love 'em. So neat. So orderly. So very, very informative. And that leads me into today's tale of amusement, courtesy of the fine folks over there at bbc.co.uk. A book which could be called a self-help manual (if one was being generous) titled "If You Want Closure In Your Relationship, Start With Your Legs " has earned the honor of being voted the Oddest Book Title of the Year by The Bookseller Magazine.

The manual is authored by someone named (what I can only hope is a pseudonym) Big Boom. Big Boom has decribed the manual as a "self-help book, written by a man for the benefit of women". The South could use a wise man such as yourself, Mr. Boom. Have you ever been to Florida? "I Was Tortured By the Pygmy Love Queen" was apparently a very close second, having just barely been edged out by the winner named above. And rounding out the Top Three was "Cheese Problems Solved", a book that I, personally, must read. Fourth place gave us "How To Write A How To Write Book", while fifth place was staked out by "Are Women Human? And Other International Dialogues". And firmly seated in sixth was "People who Mattered in Southend and Beyond: From King Canute to Dr Feelgood." (People who mattered? Um, OK?)

The editor of The Bookseller, a one Joel Rickett, said of the winning title, "So effective is the title that you don't even need to read the book itself." And while I was too busy laughing to think of it that way, he's totally right. The title does say it all. He also added that the title "makes redundant an entire genre of self-help tomes". Indeed it does, Joel. Indeed it does.

There were two titles that were ruled out because (oddly enough) they were published too long ago, but I feel they deserve some mention. There was, what may well have been some sort of maritime instruction manual entitled, "Squid Recruitment Dynamics" (I cannot imagine why anyone would want to or need to recruit a squid, but it's good to know that there are guidelines to help you through the process if you ever find yourself squidless and in need.) and the likely thrilling anthropological tome "Glory Remembered: Wooden Headgear of Alaska Sea Hunters." (OK, I understand "published too long ago", but how freaking long ago are we talking? Wooden helmets? I'm all for the helmet, don't get me wrong, but carving them out seems like a lot of work. Especially if you consider that, during the glory days of the Alaskan Sea Hunters, they were probably most likely to get speared in some place other than that to which a helmet would provide aid. Then again, there wasn't the Internet during the glory days, so I guess they had to kill time somehow.)
Other "must mentions" would have to include, "Drawing and Painting the Undead", "Stafford Pageant: The Exciting Innovative Years 1901–1952" (Innovative, perhaps. Exciting? Hard to believe.), "Proceedings of the Second International Workshop on Nude Mice" (There was a need for more than one workshop on nude mice?! WTF?) and "Tiles of the Unexpected: A Study of Six Miles of Geometric Tile Patterns on the London Underground." (That IS unexpected!)

In previous years, the contest has seen entries such as,"The Theory of Lengthwise Rolling" in 1983, "Lesbian Sadomasochism Safety Manual" in 1990, "Bombproof Your Horse" in 2004.

The Bookseller began their contest in 1978. I'm a bit dismayed that I have missed 19 years worth of this, as I'm sure you are as well. But I'll try and catch us up a little bit with (and this is where the list part comes in) a list containing a mere sampling of some of the previous winning titles of this fine, fine contest.

Drum roll, please. And the previous winner's of The Bookseller's Oddest Book Title Award are.....

High Performance Stiffened Structures (Define "high performance".)

Living with Crazy Buttocks (The roommate from hell.)

How To Avoid Huge Ships (And what to do when they just won't sink.)

The Joy of Chickens (Ah, yes, joyful KFC goodness!)

American Bottom Archaeology (Rock bottom, I'm guessing.)

Versailles: The View From Sweden (No word on whether or not it's in English.)

Re-using Old Graves (Efficient!)

Highlights in the History of Concrete (Probably should have been "highlight".)

The Joy of Sex: Pocket Edition (Is that a book in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?)

Greek Rural Postmen and Their Cancellation Numbers (Guess it's a postal Greek thing.)

The Big Book of Lesbian Horse Stories (Most excellent bedtime reading.)

People Who Don't Know They're Dead: How They Attach Themselves to Unsuspecting Bystanders and What to Do About It (Finally!)

The Stray Shopping Carts of Eastern North America: A Guide to Field Identification

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That's Not A Wombat, It's A "Wrongbat"

Now, I realize that I have focused mainly on getting the word out that dogs should not wear clothes, nor should they be anything other than "dog colored". And I still believe that is a fine message to send and firm position to take and I shall continue to do both. Out the message whilst standing firm. I'm also going to issue another plea/suggestion/light and tepid warning: Do not, for the love of God, do not ever claim to be raped by a wombat (or any other kind of bat for that matter). Do. Not. Do. It. Oh, if only I had known such a rule was necessary enough to need to be said out loud. Arthur Ross Cradock, a 48-year old orchard worker of New Zealand, had claimed that he had been raped by a wombat. (I do not know how that would even be physically possible. Then again, I don't think that breeding or romping between species was supposed to be easy. It's like nature's way of saying "Do. Not. Do. It.") He also claimed that wombat rape (try saying that three times fast) left him with the ability to "speak Australian". I'd have to say that even after hearing "wombat rape", I still found the "ability to speak Australian" surprising. I don't know why. You'd think, after the wombatious assault, that nothing would surprise. But it did. In the early afternoon one February day, Mr. Cradock called the police in Nelson (that's in New Zealand) and threatened that, if they came to his home that night, he would "smash the filth". I don't know what that means, but since it is apparently some sort of New Zealandic threat, it's not good. That call wasn't enough for our orchard working genius over there, because he called back. This time, delivering the startling message, "I've been raped by a womabat." He also made a startling plea of, "Come help me." Not quite as startling was that he made a third call to let the police know that he has changed his mind and did not want to pursue a complaint against the raping wombat.
In what can only be responded to with, "WTF?", the guy said, "I'll retract the rape complaint from the wombat because he's pulled out." And as if that wasn't enough, he continued with, "Apart from speaking Australian now, I'm pretty all right, you know. I didn't hurt my bum at all." He was then charged with "using a phone for a fictitious purpose". Well, GOOD! I'd hate to have him charged with "using a phone for a non-fictitious purpose" because that would mean that he has been doing it with a wombat, for cryin' out loud! WTF? WTF? WTF??!?!
Now, of course you're wondering if "alcohol may have been involved". Thus I'm sure you'll reel back in shock when you learn that, according to the man's defense attorney, it may have been. Oh, really?! Do you THINK?! I would not only THINK alcohol may have been involved, I would hope and pray and downright BEG that alcohol had been involved!! Because if individual claimed that he was being raped by a wombat in what may or may not have been an orchard, in an encounter that would later leave him with a non-sore ass and the ability to speak in an Australian tongue, and alcohol was NOT involved in the slandering of said wombat?? Well, that would be more of a WTF moment than this already is.

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