What a day.

Firstly, it’s The Pirate’s birthday, so please make sure you go pay homage to her. Throw flowers or Keystone Light at her feet or whatever. She’ll appreciate.

It’s also Metalchick’s birthday, so go give her mad praise as well. She’s moving to Europe soon, so wish her well.

EDIT: And Randi’s officially an aunt today, so congratulations are in order. For her sister, not her. She just sat there eating raisins and watching “Extra”.

Secondly, this is officially my 200th post, and this month marks my 2 year anniversary of having this blog. Is that the shit, or what? Now, I know that 200 posts in 2 years doesn’t sound like a lot, but since I don’t post daily, this milestone has taken some time to reach. And since I HAVE been doing this for a while, and since a whole lot of you lurking asses are relatively new to the great experience that is Almost Infamous (which, incidentally, is the official name of this blog, in case you didn’t know), I’m going to thoughtfully revisit some of my favorite posts. You’ll thank me for it. Make sure you’ve got lots of time, ’cause I was long-winded back in the day. Also, I apologize for the size of the font. Just press the Control key and hit the plus sign twice (in Firefox) to increase it. Deal, people. Then, folks, we shall diatribe.

Remember when I proclaimed myself a 30 percenter? Dirk and JR Estelle will love that.

How about when I met God?

Or the stories from when I worked at the mall, here and here?

Or the three-part tale about my roommates, here, here, and here?

Or how about my trip to the black strip club? Good times.

Surely you remember the story of Odie and the Squirter, and Smuckers with the Skunk Skank.

How about this? It was my first semi-stab at a diatribe, back before I really knew how.

The first journey into my mind’s inner workings? Gold.

And who could forget the most bizarre wedding ever? No one, that’s who.

Or the first mention of The Pirate? And like a barnacle, she’s still around.

Worst drunk ever? Got it.

And you HAVE to read about my trip to Italy. It might be my best writing to date.

Chinese Lessons? Why YES! Got ’em all – here, here, here, here, and of course, here.

Another foray into my brain. It’s weird here.

Or my rant against Supernanny. Oh yeah.

Anyway. I’ve had some really good times here, and I’ve met some great people. I’m gonna keep rolling till the wheels fall off, muhfuckas. And you KNOW this, MAN!

Let’s diatribe.
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(From Bizarre News) DES MOINES, Iowa – What is the value of a wedding dress these days? For one Davenport woman, it was worth her 4-year-old son. Marcy Gant, 31, was charged on a felony count after she tried to sell her child for a wedding dress from a local street vendor. It seems she didn’t have enough to cover the whole tab, so she offered her son to make up the rest of the balance. “During negotiations for the payment of this wedding dress, on at least two occasions, Ms. Gant offered her 4-year-old son as collateral,” Capt. Dave Struckman of the Davenport Police Department said. Neighbors of the woman were shocked. “(There is) something very mentally wrong with her to think that that is OK,” said Angie Bruce, Gant’s neighbor. If convicted, Gant could face 10 years in prison.

There are several problems with this story. Let’s start with the most obvious: why in the HELL is she buying a dress from a street vendor in Iowa? If the story took place in, say, Bangalore, India, I would’ve shrugged and chalked it up to cultural differences, but you can’t make me believe that there aren’t any bridal shops in Des Moines. I bet there’s two. Secondly, if she couldn’t afford THAT dress, why didn’t she hit Kohl’s or JC Penney or ANY other place that sells dresses and just get one there? Maybe she had her heart set on that strapless tight rayon dress with the print of Tupac smoking a cigar embossed down near the thigh slit, but honey, you gotta work with whatcha got. And was she in such a hurry that layaway wasn’t an option? Ain’t no shame in using layaway. It’s basically a reverse credit card. As for the crime of offering up her 4 year old son…any parent can tell you that the thought passes through your head once in a blue moon. I’ve been out in public with my boys and thought about dropping ’em off at the Lost and Found and claiming I found ’em in Frozen Foods or Hardware or whatever, but at age 4, they can talk, and the police will find your ass. She’s dumb. In prison, though, someone will trade her ass for a carton of Kools, so karma will win this battle.
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(From Bizarre News) ZEPHYRHILLS, Florida – Korey Bradd Henderson may have just done a little bit to much head banging to his favorite hard rock music. Maybe that would explain why the 25-year-old of Lakeland, Florida decided to wear a bright orange jail uniform to a hard rock concert when he was supposed to be under house arrest. When Pasco County sheriff’s detective Mark Morrison approached Henderson in his jailhouse garb, he took off running and ran straight into two other deputies. Henderson at first told them the getup was a Halloween costume. But when the deputies checked with the officials at Polk County jail, they confirmed that one uniform was indeed missing. A warrants check told deputies that Henderson was supposed to be on house arrest in Lakeland as part of his probation on a charge of illegal possession of narcotics. Henderson is still wearing a jail uniform as he awaits his next trial.

SCENE: Suburban Florida home. KOREY is downstairs in the den, playing air guitar and looking like an inbred idiot. KOREY’S MOM is folding clothes and wondering where she went wrong.

Korey’s Mom: “Korey, where are you going? You’re not supposed to leave!”
Korey: “Ma! Leave me alone, I can leave if I want to! I NEED to go see Nonpoint! They’re expecting me!, God, you’re so stupid!”
Mom: “Don’t you call me stupid, you ingrate! Maybe if you hadn’t been carrying all that Mary Ja Juana, you wouldn’t be Mr. Ankle Bracelet in the first place. Why didn’t you just finish high school like I – “
Korey (irritated): “SHUT UP, MA! Jesus, you’re a broken record. Make me something to eat. Hey where’s my clothes?”
Mom (sarcastically): “Right here, SON. Wear this orange outfit – it’ll show off your eyes.”
Korey: “Thanks for nothing. I’m outta here.”
Mom: “I should’ve swallowed 25 years ago, I swear.”

Sarcasm is wasted on Korey.
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(From Bizarre News) PENNSYLVANIA – A sick practical joke ended with a Pennsylvania man laughing himself all the way back to prison. Jeffrey Barber apparently thought it would be a regular laugh riot to scare his wife by pretending he had been shot. After firing his .22-caliber rifle in the house, the 44-year-old proceeded to smear himself with tomato sauce and lay on the floor. When the missus called 911 to come to her husband’s aid, the police found he was very much alive, and violating the terms of his parole by owning several guns. Barber pled guilty to illegal ownership of the firearms, and had to face the mandatory sentence of 15-years to life.

This must’ve been funny as SHIT, in his head. I bet he planned that stunt for weeks, watching every episode of “CSI” and “The New Detectives” until he had the idea fully crystallized. I bet he told a couple of his drinkin’ buddies about it, and they all laughed, except for that one guy, Ralph. Ralph is Mr. Cautious, Mr. Buzzkill, Mr. I’ve-Never-Been-To-Jail. I bet Ralph was all telling him it’s a bad idea, and that he could really scare Mrs. Barber, and that owning a firearm is a violation of his parole, and blah fuckity blah blah blah. I bet Ralph is as much fun as tuberculosis. But they keep him around because Ralph has a hot wife and a 60″ HDTV with surround sound. I bet the night before, Barber giggled himself to sleep like a silly bitch, just itching to whip out this King of All Pranks. I bet he didn’t even buy blanks for the gun – I’m betting he just shot a hole in the ceiling or floor, seeing as how he could just go fix it later. And he can, now – 15 years later. What a fucking idiot. I hope Mrs. Barber bangs all his friends while he’s in jail. And tosses their salad, too! As a joke, of course.

Thank you so much for reading me, people. Without you, I’d be….still blogging. But no one would be reading it. Here’s to even more years and words.

Peace.

 

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