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Archive for May, 2009

This is what a thong is supposed to look like.

This is what a thong is supposed to look like.

Here in the offices of The Curmudgeon, the men dress well – sexy even – but none of us are wearing thong panties under our pants.  At least I don’t think so, though I do worry about that French guy, Jaques, down the hall.  No, I’m a boxer kind of guy, but I can’t speak for the rest of the staff.  That’s why I am tickled (so to speak) by men who wear women’s sexy underthingies.  Sure, it feels all soft and luxurious on your skin and gives you a raging h….um…but how would I know?  I don’t, I tell ya, I don’t, but I can imagine the silky smoothness as it gently…oh…ahem.  Anyway…

That’s why I’m chuckling today over a story on WSMV.com, because wearing women’s thong panties is one thing, but burglarizing a house wearing nothing but is something else entirely.  It got all freaky in Andersonville, Tennessee when cops arrived at a burglary in process.  The scantily clad, gender-confused burglar heard the cops arrive and jumped out a second story window.  Have you ever jumped out of a 2nd story window wearing 5 inch heels?  Hurts like hell.  Anyway, cops followed footprints from the house to an abandoned farm next door.  There they found 42 year old Larry Moore wearing the thong in question.

For the life of me I can’t figure out what motivates a guy to do this, unless the excitement of burglary had become passé , and dressing up in women’s panties had also begun to bore him.  He just wasn’t getting the thrill to which he had grown accustomed.  Then one day he said to himself, “I know!  I’ll wear a thong- I think that frilly pink number – and burglarize a house!”

I can see him now prancing around the scene of the crime while singing “I Feel Pretty.”  No word on what he was stealing.  Probably more panties because, gosh, it’s just so embarrassing to buy them at Walmart.  And heaven knows, Larry Moore wouldn’t want to be embarrassed.   Nope, ole Larry Moore of Andersonville, Tennessee was never one for embarrassment.

I don’t have anything against guys who wear panties.  I think it’s kind of funny and as I’ve always said, whatever raises your flag as long as you hurt no one and there aren’t any children involved.  But burglarizing a home ain’t right.  Somebody worked hard to afford those panties which you so cavalierly just sashay into their home and take them, Mr. Larry Moore of Andersonville, Tennessee.

A fund has been started for Larry to help him while he is in jail.

Send your used panties to Anderson County Detention Facility to help him pass the time.  Remember though, he’s jaded so make them crotchless for that extra oomph.

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dinner rolls advencap

Here in the offices of The Curmudgeon, we are usually hungry but not ravenous.  I’m fond of homemade breads, biscuits, buns (I’m very fond of buns,) and other baked bounty of the earth and often make them myself.  That’s right, Crusty cooks.  Is there anything like a warm dinner roll just out of the oven, slathered with butter and served with the evening’s meal?  I think not, but I wouldn’t stab anybody over one, no matter how good they were.

Not so for Ava Marie Gordon of Melvindale, Michigan.  As reported by Doug Guthrie of The Detroit News, her father had a leftover dinner roll and he was saving it (Gawd, these Michigan folks really like their rolls.)  Apparently, his daughter has a history of eating his food.  Enough so that he felt compelled to leave a note telling her to not – under any circumstances –  eat his roll.  It was not reported what the note said.  Presumably, it said something like, “Listen, you roll-thieving pig, keep your filthy paws off my dinner roll!   Love, Daddy.”

Ava Marie Gordon, roll connoisseur extraordinaire and gourmand, saw the note and promptly ate the roll anyway.  Presumably, her train of thought went something like this:  “Don’t you tell me not to eat your damn roll.  That’s my roll now.  You old fart.  Watch this.  Now what you gonna do about it.”  Obviously, the father was none too pleased with the outcome of the struggle over the roll, now being referred to in the press as Rollgate.  An argument ensued.

The argument was as heated as a 500 degree oven, to say the least.  The daughter produced a gun and fired it at her father but missed.  She picked up a knife instead.  Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on whose side you’re on, she was a much better aim with a knife than she was a gun.  The knife hit the bullseye.  The father is dead.  She could get life in prison.

Not since Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserable has there been so much fuss over a hunk of bread.  Bread has been around at least since 4000 BC, one of the earliest foods known to man, and has long been associated with health, well-being, and comfort.

And now it can get you killed.

Photo Credit: Dinner Rolls, advencamp, flickr,

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geisha juggling

Here in the spacious but not cavernous offices of The Curmudgeon, we are amazed at what people will pay and go through to find someplace to live.   The most recent example of closet camping comes from Delray Beach, Florida, where Sergio Santos rents a closet to live in – like an apartment – for $150 per month.  This is true.

It’s a relatively large closet as closets go – 5 ½ by 14 feet – but still, it’s a closet. Mr. Santos (and yes, I will address him as Mister as he has my admiration for his creativity and fortitude) has done what he can with the space.  This comes as no surprise since he is an architect and has designed housing projects, high rises and office buildings, but he lost his job and now works as a waiter.  His skill as an architect has served him well closet-wise.  He has designed the interior of his castle (for a man’s home is his castle) to now have a bedroom, office and mini-kitchen.  Oh, he’s livin’ the high life all right, and he has cable TV, Internet service, a computer, mini-fridge, and a microwave.

He spent a total of $64 using recycled parts.  Of course, I suppose it could get a little awkward after a date and he is asked, “My place or yours.”  Definitely yours.   Heck, maybe he’ll get his own TV show: Pimp My Closet.

But Wait…It Gets Weirder

But then there is this story from Japan.  Sadder, yes, but much more remarkable too.  A Japanese man became puzzled when food continually turned up missing from his kitchen over several months.  He installed some security cameras that transmitted to his mobile phone.  One day after he left, he noticed someone moving about in his apartment and, thinking it was a burglar, called the police.

The police found the doors and windows locked, but went in and began a room to room search.   They searched everywhere a person could possibly hide.   Finally they slid open a shelf closet, there she was hiding on the top compartment.  Thing is, she had been living there for a year.  Furthermore, she had put a mattress in the small place and apparently took showers.   She was described by the police as “neat and clean.”

For some reason, I can only imagine a Japanese person being able to get away with this.  I’m not sure why that is.   Maybe it’s all the old Kung-Fu television show, or life-long training as a Geisha. You know, walk across this rice paper without tearing it training.  I’m impressed by this woman too.   To live like in a closet for a year with out being detected is remarkable.

Excellent, Grasshopper.

(Photo Credit: Geisha Juggling, flickr, Okanawa Soba)

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super squirrel

Here in the offices of The Curmudgeon, we are animal friendly but we’re not exactly PETA. Oh, we have gone to bat for animals, as witnessed in our post Woman Tapes Dog to Fridge: Which One’s the Bitch?, but sometimes this “political correctness” thing stretches the limits of our activism and even our comprehension. Witness the story of the Frying Rat on a Hot Tin Roof:

According to the Associated Press, “The owner of a New Jersey pest control company has been charged with animal cruelty after a squirrel was found dead in a rooftop trap.” The Chief of the Monmouth County Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, Buddy Amato (he gets to call himself “Chief?” Well, there’s your problem right there,) says the company “Critter Ridder” set a trap for the animal and no one came back to check it. Amato says the squirrel was found “cooked to death on the hot roof”  Thursday afternoon.

Aw, come on!  Squirrels are rats with furry tails.  Are you going to go after homeowners because they set a mouse trap and forgot about it?  What’s the difference, really?  I’ll tell you.  Squirrels are far more destructive.  I can hear the bastards in my attic right now.  There are holes in my eaves from where the squirrels have chipped away at the wood to get in there.  I have replaced them only to have the little, cute disease-carrying rodents excavate their way back in.  My trash cans have holes in the lids where they have created their own entryway.  And then there is the regional legend of my Battle of the bird feeder.  Not since the Alamo has a more brave fight been put up against such unbeatable odds.  Nobody showed up to slap the squirrels with a citation for stealing bird food and starving our fine, feathered friends to death.  Where was the ASPCA then?

And it gets even stranger:  The owner of “Critter Ridder” has been slapped with four counts – count ’em, FOUR – counts of animal cruelty, and one of them cited her for “not providing the squirrel with adequate food, water and shelter.” Ha, ha! So remember, the next time you trap a mouse, you’d better set a little piece of cheese, a bowl of water and the mouse into a comfortable shoe box and call the ASPCA to come and get it. And if you happen to catch a squirrel, they’ll come and get the thing and spend thousands of dollars nursing it back to health in the million dollar Rocky and Bullwinkle Squirrel Rehabilitation Facility, then set it free into the wild, where it will quickly find it’s way back to your house, chew a hole in your eaves, and live in your attic and tap into your cable television.

Don’t you ASPCA folks have some real work to do? Aren’t their puppy mills and so-called farms where the animals are living in filth and starving to death?  Why don’t you take all the money I donate to you and look into those true crimes instead, and leave the squirrels to fine, small companies like Critter Ridder.

If I lived near them, I’d hire them.  They don’t deserve a citation.  They deserve a trophy with a little cooked squirrel dipped in bronze for a job well done.

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Photo by rom on flickr

Photo by rom on flickr

Here in the secretive but not acronym-heavy offices of The Curmudgeon, we are having a good laugh over the list of the top 50 acronyms teens are using on the Internet and in text messages to keep their parents from knowing what they are talking about.  While the list has been around for a couple of years, it is only now beginning to take on a life of it’s own in a meme kind of way.  The problem is, it’s ridiculous.

The story was reported by Fox News (Oh, how it irritates me to reference Fox News) about just how absurd the list is.  Turns out, most of the terms come from sex and bondage chat rooms, or are so outdated that no one knows what they mean anymore, or just plain made up.  Of course, some of it can be useful, such as that 8 means oral sex (get it?) or that the acronym NIFOC means Naked In Front Of Computer (which I always thought meant Naked In Front Of Columbo, since I like to watch Columbo reruns while naked and visiting Internet Sex Chatrooms – but that’s another post.)

PC Magazine’s Sacha Sagan, as quoted by Fox, says, “I honestly have to say I have never seen most of these terms.  It looks like a lot of them come from online sex chat rooms, and not just any chat rooms, but sadomasochistic ones.”

“I don’t know most of this stuff,” adds Jason Parks, a 21-year-old junior at Arizona State University. “My friends and I just looked at it, and we were cracking up.”

This list was released by NetLingo.com, who still insist that parents should be aware of these terms.  Yeah.  I think parents should be aware if their kids are hanging out in sex chat rooms.  To their credit, NetLingo posted another list of the top 100 Acronyms, and this list is far more useful, both for parents, perverts, and old farts like me trying to follow what the kids are up to so I can tell you about it.  You should check out  The NetLingo List of Acronyms & Text Message Shorthand.  Print it out, study it, and keep it as a handy reference.  Of course, if you want to see the short, sex term list, you know, for a laugh, go here.

Which reminds me, I have a bone to pick with you (BTOPWY).  In my post about Glomosexuals, I asked you kindly to assist me in starting our own acronym – ROFLSCOMN (Rolling On Floor Laughing Shooting Cola Out My Nose.)  But kids, the acronym hasn’t taken off yet, which means you aren’t trying.  I want you to use it every time you are tempted to write LOL or ROFL.  Use it off-handedly, as though everyone knows what that means.  They will ask you, you will tell them, and then they will use it, and their friends will use it, and before you know it, it will be a thing, and we will have started it.

Notice I have not linked to my Glomosexual hub.  I don’t want you to read it.  You’re not old enough or it’s too nasty for you.  So I’m not linking it.  Of course, you could enter the term Glomosexual into the search box and find it that way, but you didn’t think of that.  Or you could just scroll down a few stories and there it is, but you don’t know that.  No.  Take my word for it, you are better off blissfully ignorant of Glomosexuals.

Just a brief wrap-up:  Many kids will have acronyms that they have made up and are only known to them and their group.  No list in the world is going to tell you what those mean.  You’ll have to interrogate the little buggars (ITLB).

(Photo Credit, Computer Mice, by [rom],  flickr)

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"White Asparagus" by u m a m i on flickr.

"White Asparagus" by u m a m i on flickr.

Here in vegetable-loving but not vegetarian offices of The Curmudgeon, we’re amazed over the news that a motorist in Germany punched a 24 year-old female vegetable seller in the kisser over her high-priced asparagus.  Or maybe it’s not that surprising, this being Germany we’re talking about.  Ya voll, der Mutterland luv der asparagus.

According to Reuters, the man yelled at the woman that her prices were totally “over the top,” and then punched her in the face and threatened to sic his attack dog on her, a German Shepard no doubt.  I am particular for peas, crazy for corn, and batty for brussel sprouts, but I am not asinine for asparagus.  Apparently, the perp (that’s what we say in the vegetable PI business, the perp,)  was a member of Germany’s troubling Asparagustapo.

Granted, this was white asparagus which is to regular asparagus as veal is to cow, but still.  The springtime delectable delight is highly coveted in Germany and is sometimes referred to as “edible ivory.”  During the short springtime growing season the prices fluctuate wildly, peaking at 10 euros per kilo early in the season (for Americans this is about 14 bucks for 2.2 pounds.)  Still, no reason to pull your car over to the side of the road and give a woman a knuckle sandwich. Vee haf vays of making you sell aparagus cheap.

The police continue to search for the asparagus-loving, woman-punching perp.  Curiously, they have not released the price the woman was selling the asparagus for.  Maybe it really was “over the top.”  The sheer number of wacko people walking the streets or driving the roads are disturbing.  First there was road rage and now comes vegetable rage.  What’s next?  It should be exciting whatever it is.

Now, hand over your zucchini or I’ll squash you.

(Photo Credit:  “White Aspargus”, u m a m i,  flickr)

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"Cat That Swallowed the Canary" by Jamelah on flickr

"Cat That Swallowed the Canary" by Jamelah on flickr

Here in the well-appointed but not posh Curmudgeon offices, lunchtime is approaching.  Usually, the staff fends for themselves, or we all order Chinese or Deli, or we have an ersatz business meeting at one of the local brew-pubs, with steaks, chops, burgers, oysters, salads, and cold, frosty artisan beers.  Not today though.  Maybe never again.  I’ve lost my appetite.  Maybe forever.

Hey.  It happens.  When your job involves reading news from around the world, you come across stories that disgust and repulse you, anger you, and sometimes make you lose you appetite.  The reason for my regressed hunger this morning is this story from the South African news service, IOL. The story is as follows:

Marian Milczarek, a 53 year old Polish man (where are the Polish jokes when you need them?) had a  big argument with his friend, Wojciech Sowinski, over a  car trailer he had asked to borrow.   Apparently it was a big argument because Sowinski knocked him to the floor of his garage and began hitting him with a chain.  According to Marian, Sowinski then “pulled down [my] trousers and started biting.  It was agony.”  I’ll bet.  There wasn’t even any foreplay.  If that’s how your friends do you then who needs crazed hookers…or Lorena Bobbit.

His wife found him on the floor of the garage, curled up in pain and called 911.  Oh…sorry…the emergency number in Poland is 345.7890578095408*69#  (Polish joke #1.)  Marian was rushed to the hospital sans penis and was treated.  But they couldn’t find the penis.  The police and medics searched for the detached penis.  They searched here, they searched there, they searched for penis everywhere.  But to no avail.  Why?  Because Sowinski had swallowed it.  Now that’s a Polish Sausage!  (Polish joke #2)  It was probably more like a Vienna Sausage.  Well, at least he swallows.

“If we’d had the other bit of his penis we could have sewn it back on,” said Dr Adam Domanasiewicz (pronounced Davis.)  If I were Marian I would have demanded they get it back.  Of course, waiting for it would not do.  Have you ever seen what human digestive fluids can do to a penis?  Nope.  I’d say, “Cut the bastard’s stomach open and get the penis pronto, wash it off, and sew that sucker back on.  But that’s just me.

So that is what has caused me to “go off my feed.”  And I was going to grill Kielbasa tonight too.

And finally, for Polish joke #3:  How many Polish guys does it take to borrow a trailor?

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