Some people are just too stoopid.
They are breathing my air. And I don’t like it. Not one bit. Dammit.
There’s really not much we can do about this epidemic of stoopididity. I mean we can’t just go around looking for the Terminally Stoopid and lock them up and throw away the key, can we? If we did that, there would be 60-something million fewer Democrat voters (hope and change!), but that would be wrong. And illegal. But mostly illegal. There is a solution to this dilemma, however. Ninety-nine per cent of the Terminally Stoopid are pro-choice, right? In that case, I choose to spay and/or neuter every damn last one of ’em! It will take a generation or so before they all keel over, but in the meantime they will be unable to reproduce, therefore virtually eliminating stoopididty.
I am willing to do this for the betterment of my Country and the future of my children and grand children.
That’s just the kind of guy I am. And you can thank me later.
Nine. One. One.
We’ve done a few stories about Dumbasses and the emergency call number 9-1-1. One guy we wrote about called 9-1-1 to order a beer delivery! Another shit for brains went one further and dialed up the emergency call center and threatened to kick the cops’ asses! Quick note: Mrs. Fearless Leader DVRed “American Idol” and is watching it as I type this. I may call 9-1-1 myself before I can finish this post! I hate that damn show!
Now back to your regularly scheduled Dumbassery…
Our story today is about a Hungry Dumbass. A really hungry Dumbass. This idjit got so hungry he did what any mentally deficient moron would do when they get a ad case of the munchies. He called 9-1-1 to order a cheeseburger!
Nine times! If at first you don’t succeed….
52 year old Gregory Jackson, Sr. of New Castle, Indiana is the Dumbass In Question.
From WISH-TV comes this transcript:
Dispatcher: Do you have an emergency sir, because you dialed 911.
Jackson: I dialed 911.
Dispatcher: Yeah you dialed 911. …
Dispatcher: OK, so why did you call 911 for, what do you need.
Dispatcher: Do you have an emergency?
Jackson: A cheeseburger.
Dispatcher: Have a good day.
Jackson then called back into the emergency phone line.
Dispatcher: 911, Your emergency.
Jackson: Yes, I just spoke with you. You hung up on me.
Dispatcher: Well I asked if you had an emergency. You said no, you needed a cheeseburger. So we don’t take cheeseburger orders.
And still, Jackson calls back demanding a cheeseburger from the dispatcher.
Dispatcher: You know if you give me some information maybe we can try and help you out.
And finally, the dispatcher was on the phone with Jackson when the authorities arrived on the scene.
Dispatcher: You hear them knocking?
The cops did not come bearing cheeseburgers.
And Gregory is in a shit load of trouble.
At least where he’s going he’ll get three squares a day, though I am not sure if cheeseburgers are on the menu.
Let’s play a game of “pretend”.
Let’s pretend that you are being chased by “drug cartel agents” and a pack of vicious drug cartel agent dogs. Let’s pretend that you are scared shitless and your only recourse to save your ass from these evil, bloodthirsty bad guys and their hounds from Hell is to break into a nearby house.
Now that you are safely out of harm’s way inside some nice person’s house, what do you do? You call 9-1-1! On yourself!
Wait! We don’t have to pretend! This actually happened! SPOILER ALERT! 1…2…3…END OF SPOILER ALERT! The Dumbass who pulled this stunt was soon greeted by a pair of very nice Bangor (Maine) police officers and was subsequently introduced to the Penobscot County Jail for the Criminally Dumbass.
The lesson we can all take away from this incident is that 9-1-1 is to be utilized for emergency situations only.
The entrants for the next Dummy in our search for the 3rd Annual Fred G. Sanford Memorial “You Big Dummy” Dumbass of the Year Award winner would beg to differ.
Best Use of 9-1-1 by a Drunk Dumbass
There was no shortage of contenders for this category of the Dummies. That is evidenced by the fact that the Dumbass in the story above isn’t even nominated for the award.
Those who made the cut…
- John R. of Chicago – Big John got tanked up on some cheap hooch and called 9-1-1 and politely invited some of Chi-town’s Finest over for a good ole country ass kickin’. The Police were not amused.
- 9-1-1 for Sex Caller – In late August I wrote about a horny Dumbass down in Tampa who dialed 9-1-1 and asked the operator for a blow job. Not a good idea.
- Beer Delivery Through 9-1-1 – Enough said.
And the winner of the 2012 Dummy Award for Best Use of 9-1-1 by a Drunk Dumbass is…
The Dumbass who called 9-1-1 for beer delivery!
Folks, anybody can dial up 9-1-1 and ask for a blow job or get drunk and call ’em up and threaten to kick the cops’ asses, but it takes a special kind of Dumbass to place an order for beer through Emergency Services. The level of sheer unmitigated gall to do something this fucking stoopid is, in and of itself, brilliant!
As a Former Professional Drinker, I bow before the Funky Old Dude who let his drunk ass fingers do the walkin’.
It’s always tons of fun when we get to go to Florida for some good old fashioned Dumbassery. It’s even more fun when the act of Dumbassery involves a dumbass call to 9-1-1!
Especially when the call to 9-1-1 is for SEX!
|Not a Female Cop in Sight|
We here at Dumbass News pride ourselves in bringing you the best 9-1-1 Dumbassery to be found anywhere in the world. I think we have proven that with such outstanding 9-1-1 Dumbassery as the guy who call the emergency service to have some beer delivered. While I agree that being out of beer is indeed an emergency, 9-1-1 worthy it ain’t. We have even featured a story where a 9-1-1 “health emergency” call lead to cops discovering 124 pot plants from where the call was placed. excellent Dumbassery indeed. Then there’s the tale of a Dumbass who dialed 9-1-1 so the cops would come over and he would kick their asses. This did not work out well for the Dumbass.
You’ll notice one very important topic missing from our roster of Dumbass 9-1-1 Call List. Care to venture a guess? Yes! S-E-X!
I haven’t been layin’ down on the job, it wasn’t until I checked my email today that I finally got a story with a 9-1-1/Sex angle to it. And being ever-vigilant for such material, the minute my eagle eye spotted it, I loaded up the blogging tools and hit the keyboard running.
Hopin’ for Humpin’
There’s a horny Dumbass down in Tampa. of course that description could cover 80% of the Tampa area population, but this horny Dumbass wanted some lovin’ so bad, he dialed 9-1-1 for it! Not once. Not twice. Not even three times. But this Dumbass punched up a 6-3-7-7! That’s seven times 9-1-1!.
Now while an occasional call to Emergency Service for a blow job or some phone sex might be OK in some places around the country, in the F-L-A this is a large uh-uh. Nein nein. Nyet nyet. Non non. For the Yoopers in the Dumbass Horde, all the previous double words represent the word “no” in three, count ’em three foreign languages. Who says that Dumbass News ain’t got no class? there’s that word again. No.
Anyway, the Dumbass in Tampa, no relation to the Dumbass Protesters at the Republican Convention, hit up the Hillsborough County 9-1-1 folks seven times asking them to send over a female police officer so he could be handcuffed to play “Prison Bitch”. Or something like that.
It goes without saying that the operators at 9-1-1 faled to see the humor or the unbridled hormonal rage the Dumbass was engaging in. So after the seventh time he called looking for female cop nooky, he was arrested for abusing the emergency system. Busted by big hairy 100% Male Police Officers.
No word on whether or not he solicited the Guy Cops or not.
I doubt it though. Because he’s not a homo, he’s a …
|I Have Been to the Mountain Top!|
Fellow Dumbasses, I need you today like I’ve never needed you before. I guess that’s because I’ve never needed you before. Literary Brilliance Note: The first two sentences of this post were put there to “hook” you into reading further. That’s why it is called a “hook”. See? It worked.You’re still here, ain’t you? Just like a hungry catfish that can’t resist that big ass hunk of smelly, juicy chicken live on a 3/0 fishing hook, I have reeled you in. Damn, I’m good!
I am facing something that I suppose that every
world famous, adualted, idolized two bit blogger like me encounters every once in a while. You see, when you’re at the top your blogging game a retired middle aged piss ant “wirier” like me, there will come a time when it’s almost impossible to live up stay in the cesspool of daily blogging. Sometimes the Blogging gods look down upon you with pity and bless you with a week’s worth of material that is divinely inspired – like last week. The problem is how in the name of all that is Holy do you follow up such sagacity without taking a dramatic plunge back into the depths of internet darkness? That’s the difficulty I confronted this week. How could I not crash and burn???!!!
On a Roll
I don’t know how it happened but it happened. Another Dumbass Week of outstanding dumbassery inj the shadow of the Dumbassery before it, and I pulled it off with aplomb, never once intimidated by the mission before me. It? “It” is following up last week’s masterpieces with equally hypnotic screeds thus preventing that “falling off a cliff” feeling that so often follows such classic works. When you are in the pits, the fall ain’t so bad, but when you are at the apex of blogging brilliance as I was last week, the long, frightening descent to oblivion gives one an emotion of desperation exceeded only by the thoughts of the sudden stop at the end of the seemingly never ending dive.
Dumbassery for the Ages
Alas, next week will present me with a whole new set of tribulations to conquer. The coming days can wait, however, as I bask in the warm glow of my achievements of yesterweek.
Speaking of yesterweek, I just happened to have saved for posterity the timeless musings of your Fearless Leader of the Dumbass Horde with your children and grand children in mind. Some day the little
bastiges tykes will grow up and read the heartwarming prose of their ancestors. When that melancholy moment embraces them, a tear will well up in their eyes, memories of long ago suddenly rushing through their minds, an inaudible whisper will caress their lips as it flows to the ears of the Almighty (or one of his sidekicks)…..”Damn. Dad sure was a Dumbass.” <sniffle>
The Timelessness of Excellence
As type through the mistiness of tears blurring my vision, tearsinspired by the
bullshit tenderness, as presented above,of what is yet to come, I impart to you the glue that holds us all together, that all encompassing power that is Dumbassery.
- Learning from the Fwench – Two words I never thought I’d put in the same sentence. “Learn” and “Fwench”. Raise the Fwench National Flag! The solid white one. The end is nigh.Sacre bleu!
- Utah and Moonbats – Two more words I would have bet my gazebos on that I would never put in the same sentence. “Moonbats” and “Utah”. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are mounting up for a ride.
- 9-1-1: Hotline to an Ass Kickin’ – Hello, Police? Would you be so kind as to stop by my place? I need a good ass kickin’. And a few felonies.” The cops are quick to oblige requests like this one.
I told you. Dumabssery that evokes emotion, thought and projectile puking.
Adieu, You Cop Fightin’ Fwench Cougars and…
FLASHBACK: I have a couple of new sponsors on Dumbass News that I want to bring to your attention. It will be well worth your time to give them a quick look.
Old Time Candy Company – This site is GREAT! They have candy from the 1920s to the 1990s! Old Time Candy Company is a terrific place to bring back memories of childhood for everybody from Grandma to teenagers. You’ll find some sweet Valentine’s Day gifts as well.
South Smoke Shop – One word. Cigars. “nuff said.