Category: Nebraska

DUI in Nebraska featuring Earl the God of Dumbass Irony

I have another extremely busy day ahead of me and I won’t have time to write a new post for today. BUT! I browsed the blog archives, which by the way you can find in the left sidebar by scrolling down a little, and went all the way back to November 3 , 2010 and found a real doozy of a “Dumbass News” story.

If you think nothing good ever happens in Nebraska, you’d be el correct-o. However! Plenty of Dumbass Stuff happens in Cornhuskerville. Read on to get a good profile of your average Nebraska youth. And remember the Official State Motto of Nebraska: “At least we’re not Iowa. But we wish we were.” 

Heh.

Sometimes the God of Dumbass Irony, or Earl as he is called, has a wickedly cruel sense of humor. For example, take 19 year old Matthew Nieveen, please(!) hahahahahaha Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony, must have waited years for this twist of fate to occur. It’s so unbelievable, it’s believable. The stars of the constellation “Dumbass” were in perfect order, the moon was in the seventh house, Mercury was in retrograde (which, according a friend of mine, is bad mojo waiting to happen) and the final ingredient of this recipe of ironic circumstance is one full tilt boogie dumbass. That’s where my man Matthew comes in. Matthew is a dumbass, as you’ll shortly see. Read the post first then get a look at the photo at the end of the article.

The story that pegs the Irony Meter takes place in Lincoln, Nebraska, where NOTHING good ever happens, unless it’s the annual ass-kickin’ that the Texas Longhorns put on the Nebraska Cornhuskers. That’s another thing about Lincoln, they call themselves Cornhuskers. What the fuck is a Cornhusker other than a guy who can husk corn? Do they have degrees in cornhusking at NU? Is the mere mention of the word “cornhusker” supposed to strike fear into the hearts of your athletic opponent? The only way the word “cornhusker” would scare the hell out of anybody is if all “cornhuskers” were women from Nebraska. But, I digress.

Back to our dumbass, Matthew, and his 15 minutes of infamy. Matthew goes to this party where alcoholic beverages are being served. (Since our story takes place in Lincoln, NE, the drinks served at this party probably have little umbrellas in them, but, again, I digress) The party in question is a Halloween party. So far, so good. (except for the drinks with tiny umbrellas in them) Matthew, who you’ll remember is only 19, goes to the Halloween party and has two drinks with little umbrellas in them and gets el drunk-o. I’d like to note for the record here, that the women Cornhuskers polished off two kegs of Pabst Blue Ribbon, while the boys had the drinks with little umbrellas in them. This is Nebraska, remember. Anyway, my main man, Matt, gets hammered and makes the foolish decision to drive home while being wasted on drinks with little umbrellas in them. While Matthew is operating his motor vehicle under diminished capacity, he gets pulled over by the Lincoln Police, who hate pansies like Matthew who drive drunk, especially when they are tanked on… you guessed it, drinks with little umbrellas in them.

The law then administers road side sobriety tests (which in Nebraska involved husking corn) to Matthew, which he fails miserably. He was, however, alert enough to present the arresting officer a keepsake little umbrella from one of his drinks he had earlier. The cop was not amused. (I just made that part up for dramatic dumbass effect).

IRONY ALERT! Guess what our man Matt was wearing when he got busted? A breathalyser costume! I. Kid.You. Not. This is almost as funny as a green turd in a punch bowl. Those Nebraskans, God bless ’em, have the misfortune of being cornhuskers, then Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony steps in like James Brown throwing a fourth and 2 pass from deep inside his own territory to his tight end and ends up with a 62 yard gain. Remember that, Cornhuskers? Earl could not have more cruel to our man Matthew than if he put one more second on the clock and your opponent kicks the field goal that costs you the Conference Championship (Obscure Texas 13 Nebraska 12 reference). Doggone that Earl, he’s trickster, ain’t he? A breathalyser costume! bwahahahaha  Life must be hell being a Cornhusker and life must really suck if you’re Matthew – drunk, in jail and out one little umbrella from a foo foo drink.

Dumbass.

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Bank Robber Brags About Her Crime on You Tube! (w/Video)

I am a big fan of social media. Sites like Facebook and Twitter play a major role in my online life.

I use Facebook mainly to keep up with friends and family, exchanging the latest news about what’s going on in our respective parts of the world. I’m not much of a “talk on the phone” kind of guy. When you use the phone, there are a few things that can happen:

  1. The person you are calling will answer the phone because he’s home.
  2. The person you are calling has Caller ID and sees it’s you calling and will NOT answer the phone.
  3. The person you are calling is not home therefore your call goes unanswered anyway.
  4. The person you are calling is either not home or not taking calls and you get put through to a voice mail or answering machine. At this point you either leave a message or not.
  5. You leave a message which is never responded to. In Texas we say that this message is as useful as tits on a boar (male) hog.

Having said all that, I can guaran-damn-tee you that if you leave a message or comment on Facebook, the other party will be back in touch with you quick as a hiccup. Who needs a phone?

Lately, I have been partial to Twitter. Sure, the 140 character limit per tweet is sometimes a pain in the ass, but I get a lot of great information from my Twitter timeline. An advantage to using Twitter, for me at least, is that I have only about 250 Friends on Facebook, but I have over 1100 followers on Twitter. More followers means potentially more Dumbasses. If I post something that gets “re-tweeted” by a single person, it is then seen on his timeline by all of his followers as well. Maybe one of his followers “re-tweets” the same post, before you know it, your “tweet” is seen by tens of thousands of people. This is why I like to promote Dumbass News on my Twitter timeline. One “tweet” could net the blog a lot of hits.

And that’s a good thing.

Hannah Sabata

Bank Robber Confesses on You Tube

You Tube is arguably the most popular social medium in the world. It is the video version of Google. If you enter a term in the search box on You Tube, chances are you’ll come up with a corresponding video. People put all kinds of shit on You Tube. Even confession to a crime.

Nineteen year old Hannah Sabata of Waco, Nebraska did just that. She went on a crime spree that involved stealing a car and robbing a bank then made a video bragging (confessing) about her misdeeds and posted it to You Tube! Fucking brilliant.

So Hannah performed Grand Theft Auto and Armed Robbery because the State took away her baby because she was, according to the State of Nebraska, a piss poor excuse for a mother? But she’s a victim of the government! Well, hell, that makes perfect sense.

Hannah will now be relegated to doing whatever felons do in prison.

Looking on the bright side, when she’s released from the Big House she’ll have some great script ideas for one of those “Women Prisoners in Chains, Lezbeans on a Rampage” movies.

It’ll be an autobiography.

Dumbass.

Dumbass Sandwich Assault!

Melbeta, Nebraska. Population 112 in the 2010 Census.

That’s all I know about this tiny town except that it’s located near Scotts Bluff. I have heard of Scotts Bluff. Melbeta? Not so much. Until now. Thanks to two dumbasses and a sandwich.

Not So Quiet

One would think that such a small town would be a very quiet place. I guess it normally is. But all that peace and quiet was recently shattered when a couple, the Spurlings, got into it over the man’s boredom with living in the country.

Assault Sandwich

Things got so heated between the two that somewhere in there a sandwich assault occurred!

The Daily Mail fills us in, Mrs Spurling is reported to have become bored with the row and made herself a sandwich and returned to the couple’s bedroom – where he allegedly followed her.
The argument is then alleged to have become physical, with Mr Spurling accused of pulling his wife’s hair, pushing her down on the bed and rubbing the sandwich into her face.
Mr Spurling’s wife is reported to have had mayonnaise stains on her shirt when examined by the police.
She apparently told officers she had washed mayonnaise from her face and hair before they arrived at the property.
Mr Spurling, who denies the charge against him, was found lying face down on grass outside the couple’s home, according to the Scotts Bluff Star- Herald.

All Righty Then

I searched the Dumbass News Archives high and low and have verified that this is in fact the first Sandwich Assault story we have reported to you. What won’t we do to bring you the best dumbass stories out there? On second thought, it’s probably best not to ask that question, because God knows exactly what we’ll do for a few page views. But, I digress.
As you have prolly ascertained by now, this is BIG news in Melbeta. It’s not every day that a guy gets plastered on cheap ass malt likker and assails his wife with a bologna sandwich. This is such big news that it was picked up by one of the largest newspapers in the world! The whole sordid affair doesn’t do much for Melbeta’s image as a nice place to live, but still, news is news. Especially when it is Dumbass News-worthy. We only bring you quality stoopid shit. And we proved it again today. Nothing but the best shit for you, fellow Dumbasses.

It has been a pleasure exposing this sub assault and further showing what a drunk Dumbass and a sandwich can do for a small town’s standing in the Community of Man, while at the same time serving you a steaming pile of the premier poop you’ve come to expect from this blog.

Besides, the chick should have used mustard. Nobody uses mayo on a bologna sandwich. Those who do, suffer.

Dumbasses.

Drunk Nebraska Dumbass Pegs the Irony Meter

I have another extremely busy day ahead of me and I won’t have time to write a new post for today. BUT! I browsed the blog archives, which by the way you can find in the left sidebar by scrolling down a little, and went all the way back to November 3 , 2010 and found a real doozy of a “Dumbass News” story.

If you think nothing good ever happens in Nebraska, you’d be el correct-o. However! Pleanty of Dumbass Stuff happens in Cornhuskerville. Read on to get a good profile of your average Nebraska youth. And remember the Official State Motto of Nebraska: “At least we’re not Iowa. But we wish we were.” 

Heh.

Sometimes the God of Dumbass Irony, or Earl as he is called, has a wickedly cruel sense of humor. For example, take 19 year old Matthew Nieveen, please(!) hahahahahaha Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony, must have waited years for this twist of fate to occur. It’s so unbelievable, it’s believable. The stars of the constellation “Dumbass” were in perfect order, the moon was in the seventh house, Mercury was in retrograde (which, according a friend of mine, is bad mojo waiting to happen) and the final ingredient of this recipe of ironic circumstance is one full tilt boogie dumbass. That’s where my man Matthew comes in. Matthew is a dumbass, as you’ll shortly see. Read the post first then get a look at the photo at the end of the article.

The story that pegs the Irony Meter takes place in Lincoln, Nebraska, where NOTHING good ever happens, unless it’s the annual ass-kickin’ that the Texas Longhorns put on the Nebraska Cornhuskers. That’s another thing about Lincoln, they call themselves Cornhuskers. What the fuck is a Cornhusker other than a guy who can husk corn? Do they have degrees in cornhusking at NU? Is the mere mention of the word “cornhusker” supposed to strike fear into the hearts of your athletic opponent? The only way the word “cornhusker” would scare the hell out of anybody is if all “cornhuskers” were women from Nebraska. But, I digress.

Back to our dumbass, Matthew, and his 15 minutes of infamy. Matthew goes to this party where alcoholic beverages are being served. (Since our story takes place in Lincoln, NE, the drinks served at this party probably have little umbrellas in them, but, again, I digress) The party in question is a Halloween party. So far, so good. (except for the drinks with tiny umbrellas in them) Matthew, who you’ll remember is only 19, goes to the Halloween party and has two drinks with little umbrellas in them and gets el drunk-o. I’d like to note for the record here, that the women Cornhuskers polished off two kegs of Pabst Blue Ribbon, while the boys had the drinks with little umbrellas in them. This is Nebraska, remember. Anyway, my main man, Matt, gets hammered and makes the foolish decision to drive home while being wasted on drinks with little umbrellas in them. While Matthew is operating his motor vehicle under diminished capacity, he gets pulled over by the Lincoln Police, who hate pansies like Matthew who drive drunk, especially when they are tanked on… you guessed it, drinks with little umbrellas in them.

The law then administers road side sobriety tests (which in Nebraska involved husking corn) to Matthew, which he fails miserably. He was, however, alert enough to present the arresting officer a keepsake little umbrella from one of his drinks he had earlier. The cop was not amused. (I just made that part up for dramatic dumbass effect).

IRONY ALERT! Guess what our man Matt was wearing when he got busted? A breathalyser costume! I. Kid.You. Not. This is almost as funny as a green turd in a punch bowl. Those Nebraskans, God bless ’em have the misfortune of being cornhuskers, then Earl, the God of Irony steps in like James Brown throwing a fourth and 2 pass from deep inside his own territory to his tight end and ends up with a 62 yard gain. Remember that, Cornhuskers? Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony could not have more cruel to our man Matthew than if he put one more second on the clock and your opponent kicks the field goal that costs you the Conference Championship. Doggone that Earl, he’s trickster, ain’t he? A breathalyser costume! bwahahahaha  Life must be hell being a Cornhusker and life must really suck if you’re Matthew – drunk, in jail and out one little umbrella from a foo foo drink. Dumbass. PIC BELOW**

Dumbass Meets The God of Irony Up Close and Personal

Sometimes the God of Dumbass Irony, or Earl as he is called, has a wickedly cruel sense of humor. For example, take 19 year old Matthew Nieveen, please(!) hahahahahaha Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony, must have waited years for this twist of fate to occur. It’s so unbelievable, it’s believable. The stars of the constellation “Dumbass” were in perfect order, the moon was in the seventh house, Mercury was in retrograde (which, according a friend of mine, is bad mojo waiting to happen) and the final ingredient of this recipe of ironic circumstance is one full tilt boogie dumbass. That’s where my man Matthew comes in. Matthew is a dumbass, as you’ll shortly see. Read the post first then get a look at the photo at the end of the article.

The story that pegs the Irony Meter takes place in Lincoln, Nebraska, where NOTHING good ever happens, unless it’s the annual ass-kickin’ that the Texas Longhorns put on the Nebraska Cornhuskers. That’s another thing about Lincoln, they call themselves Cornhuskers. What the fuck is a Cornhusker other than a guy who can husk corn? Do they have degrees in cornhusking at NU? Is the mere mention of the word “cornhusker” supposed to strike fear into the hearts of your athletic opponent? The only way the word “cornhusker” would scare the hell out of anybody is if all “cornhuskers” were women from Nebraska. But, I digress.

Back to our dumbass, Matthew, and his 15 minutes of infamy. Matthew goes to this party where alcoholic beverages are being served. (Since our story takes place in Lincoln, NE, the drinks served at this party probably have little umbrellas in them, but, again, I digress) The party in question is a Halloween party. So far, so good. (except for the drinks with tiny umbrellas in them) Matthew, who you’ll remember is only 19, goes to the Halloween party and has two drinks with little umbrellas in them and gets el drunk-o. I’d like to note for the record here, that the women Cornhuskers polished off two kegs of Pabst Blue Ribbon, while the boys had the drinks with little umbrellas in them. This is Nebraska, remember. Anyway, my main man, Matt, gets hammered and makes the foolish decision to drive home while being wasted on drinks with little umbrellas in them. While Matthew is operating his motor vehicle under diminished capacity, he gets pulled over by the Lincoln Police, who hate pansies like Matthew who drive drunk, especially when they are tanked on… you guessed it, drinks with little umbrellas in them.

The law then administers road side sobriety tests (which in Nebraska involved husking corn) to Matthew, which he fails miserably. He was, however, alert enough to present the arresting officer a keepsake little umbrella from one of his drinks he had earlier. The cop was not amused. (I just made that part up for dramatic dumbass effect).

IRONY ALERT! Guess what our man Matt was wearing when he got busted? A breathalyser costume! I. Kid.You. Not. This is almost as funny as a green turd in a punch bowl. Those Nebraskans, God bless ’em have the misfortune of being cornhuskers, then Earl, the God of Irony steps in like James Brown throwing a fourth and 2 pass from deep inside his own territory to his tight end and ends up with a 62 yard gain. Remember that, Cornhuskers? Earl, the God of Dumbass Irony could not have more cruel to our man Matthew than if he put one more second on the clock and your opponent kicks the field goal that costs you the Conference Championship. Doggone that Earl, he’s trickster, ain’t he? A breathalyser costume! bwahahahaha  Life must be hell being a Cornhusker and life must really suck if you’re Matthew – drunk, in jail and out one little umbrella from a foo foo drink. Dumbass. PIC BELOW**

A Dumbass and His Irony \

**Photo courtesy of The Smoking Gun.com