Archive for July, 2013

Just a few thoughts here . . .

Yes, those are Hudey Beer cans in the beard. Of course they are.

Whatever you do, don’t look at the eyeball tattoo on the guy’s arm too long. You may be hypnotized into a state of demonic rage or something.

The look on Andy Dalton’s face can only be described as a combination of horror and amusement. Hormusement maybe. I wonder if he even acknowledged the innocent little girl standing there since he was undoubtedly thinking of an exit strategy.

Finally, I swear I know that cat in the back with the sunglasses.

Enjoy.

Here’s the article. My observations follow:

Yes, I found this photo. That’s why I’m a professional level blogger and you’re not.

JULY 29 – In separate incidents, two men allegedly assaulted their girlfriends with pizza, police report. North Carolina cops yesterday arrested Cody Sebastian Parsons, 25, after responding to a domestic disturbance call at the home he shares with Sarah McKinney, his 19-year-old girlfriend. According to a Wilkesboro Police Department report, Parsons became angry after slipping on a wet floor. As he cursed at McKinney, Parsons allegedly pelted her with pizza. During questioning by cops, Parsons denied throwing the pizza. However, an officer reported finding “pizza sauce on the back of [McKinney’s] right rib cage.” Additionally, “there were pieces of pizza all over the living room floor as well as on the wall behind the front entrance door to the apartment. ”Parsons was charged with assault on a female and booked into the Wilkes County jail on the misdemeanor count.

In a prior incident, a South Carolina man was collared last Wednesday for domestic violence after he allegedly assaulted his girlfriend with a slice. Jimmy Ray Poage, 47, was busted after the 40-year-old victim told sheriff’s deputies that he threw pizza at her in the couple’s Fort Mill home. The woman–who had pizza sauce on her face, arms, and clothing–also said that Poage grabbed her around the neck and slammed her into a kitchen counter. Poage, seen in the adjacent mug shot, admitted pelting his girlfriend with pizza, but claimed that she threw it at him first. But while the woman’s clothing was splattered with sauce, Poage’s garments were “clear of pizza or pizza sauce,” according to a York County Sheriff’s report.

I have several observations here:

First off, I can’t imagine calling the police because someone threw a slice of pizza at me. Can’t comprehend it.

Can you really call it assault for throwing pizza at somebody? Was there a real threat of serious injury? Could that stray mushroom put an eye out? Can a precisely aimed anchovy murder a guy? What’s next, assault by hoagie? I’m so confused.

Pizza sauce on the right rib cage was a dead giveaway. Oh, and the “pieces of pizza all over the living room floor as well as on the wall behind the front entrance door to the apartment” had to point to pizza aggression as well. Kudos to the Po-Po on their brilliant piece of detective work.

Question. If a dude “grabbed a woman around the neck and slammed her into the kitchen counter” why are we even talking about pizza?

If throwing food at somebody is assault I would have been in prison by third grade.

Finally, anyone named Jimmy Ray Poage is sort of destined to be a wife-beater, amirite?

 

Never not funny.

Just dropping cats left and right. Well, actually only left.

Short video of where we stayed on the island.

Yikes.

Good times.

Classic.

I just checked. That’s $10,783,500.00 in US cash, folks! YEAAAHHH! I’m financially independent. Rich. Wealthy. I can finally get that ’55 T-Bird I’ve always wanted. Here’s the dilly . . .

I was minding my own bidness today, trying to catch up on some sleep after my wonderful week in the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean, Montserrat. Then, as I was innocently checking my email, I came across this blast of good news, a dream come true, an answer to my prayers:

You have won Seven Million pounds from Abu Dhabi, Manchester City promotion 2013. Contact Mrs. Felicia Samad with your Serial number (ABU5627635368/10) Contact via E-mail: abudhabimanchestercity093@hotmail.com You are one of the six lucky winner.

See, they even capitalized Seven Million! Well, obviously I immediately shot off an email to Mrs. Felicia Samad. Here ’tis:

Dear Ms. Samad,

Thank you thank you thank you! I cannot believe I am one of the six lucky winners! What do you need from me in order for me to receive my prize? Social Security number? Bank information? Credit Card numbers? Blank check? An arm? Leg? Left testicle? Let me know!

Your new best friend,

Dave Shoemaker

So there ya go! I’ll own all y’all! Just as soon as I hear back from Mrs. Felicia Samad you’ll all be kissing my feet, begging for loans, massaging my loins.

And I’ve already taken my entire life savings and put a down payment on my yacht, which I shall christen “The Dave.” I’ll pay it off when my winnings arrive from Dubai.

So to all my so-called friends who’ve stuck with me through thick and thin, EAT IT! BITE ME. Now that I’m rich I’m never looking back.

Wait.

I just got a call from my bank.

Disregard previous missive.

Everyone knows I was joking with the “eat it” stuff, right?

Right?

Spark welcomes me home.

Posted: July 28, 2013 in Animals, Pets, Sparky, Things I Love
Tags:

It’s good to be loved.

SparkySmile

Exploring the island.

You knew things would take an ugly turn when Maneepong Jongjit and Bodin Issara faced off. Just no way to avoid it with competitors like that. Note to Bodin Issara though. You can’t run like that, son. You just can’t. At some point you gotta turn around and fight. That curling up in a ball routine won’t fly in a badminton locker room. Man up, Bodin Issara. Man up.

On a related note, Maneepong Jongjit put the bad in badminton, amirite?

Tonight Josh and I took one of our players home from practice. Hell, just watch the video. This is typical of us trying to find our way around.

These people were minding their own business, sir.

Like a boss.

So I ran into an acquaintance the other day, a 50-ish happily married mother who I’ve known for years. Here’s the conversation that transpired:

Friend: “Dave! Good to see you. Hey, I have a girlfriend who’d like to meet you.”

Me: “Oh, O.K. I’m not really big on blind dates though.”

Friend: “Don’t worry, she’s really pretty. Plus she’s age appropriate.”

Me: “Oh, cool. Wait. What?”

What the hell? What does that even mean? What was she trying to tell me? That I’ve been dating women that were age inappropriate? That the girl was my age? That she was over 18?

I’m so confused right now. Why would somebody say that? My head hurts.

 

Razorblade Frisbee looks fun.

Ouch.

Sweet Mother.

It’s a plain white t-shirt. He’s selling it. For $120.00. On a related note, be the first on your block to own a plain white Shoe: Untied T-shirt, now on sale for the paltry sum of $99.99. Hollah!

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Hey cow, that won’t hold you bro.

Yeah, this happened. My comments follow.

USA Today: “I didn’t bring my son up to be killed by a falling cow,” says the grieving mother of a Brazilian man killed when a cow crashed through the roof of his home.

The 45-year-old was asleep next to his wife on Wednesday when the 3,000-pound animal, believed to have escaped from a nearby farm in Caratinga, stepped onto the corrugated roof after grazing on a hill behind the couple’s home, the Telegraph reports. The wife — and the cow — were unharmed.

The man died the next day from internal bleeding and his family says he died because he had to wait too long to see a doctor; the Independent reports the hospital has denied the claim.

“Being crushed by a cow in your bed is the last way you expect to leave this earth,” his brother says. “But in my view it wasn’t the cow that killed our Joao, it was the unacceptable time he spent waiting to be examined.”

According to local media, this is the third such incident in the area over the last few years, though nobody was killed in the previous two.

Whew. Tough day for this dude. I mean, I’ve been awakened abruptly before but a 3000 pound cow falling on you takes the cake. Or the beef. Or something.

But just a few thoughts here. First off, that’s the actual headline. Doesn’t it sound as if the guy was killed by some serial killer cow or something? That it came busting through the roof and maybe bludgeoned the guy to death with a hammer? Because it sounds like the cow burst through the roof, landed, and then killed the sleeping man, no? Am I completely out of my mind or does that comma completely change the feel? Shouldn’t it have read “Cow falls through roof and lands on man, killing him”? C’mon, USA Today, you’re better’n at.

Or have I lost my mind? Don’t answer that.

And I love this quote:

“I didn’t bring my son up to be killed by a falling cow.”

Hey lady, who does? Or is that not uncommon in Brazil, bringing your kids up to be killed by falling farm animals?

And this from the brother:

“Being crushed by a cow in your bed is the last way you expect to leave this earth.”

Yes, Captain Obvious, being crushed to death by a cow while in bed isn’t the way you expect to go. Thanks for your input.

And then there’s this:

According to local media, this is the third such incident in the area over the last few years, though nobody was killed in the previous two.

And just a suggestion here, but if you’re going to build a house with a corrugated roof into the side of a hill on which cows roam, might you want to put a fence around your roof? To maybe stop the cows from moseying out, falling through your roof, and, you know, killing you?

On a related note, if anything has ever moseyed it’s a cow. Amirite?

Oh, and it was nice of them to inform us that the wife, and the cow, were unharmed. Thank God for that.

I really need to get some sleep.

Suzuki Sidekick? Check. Homemade dirt ramp? Check. Beer? Check. Greatest redneck truck jump ever? You betcha.

But hilarious.

I would never have understood without the visuals.