Best of Dumbass News
At last count, Dumbass News was being read by
idiots nice folks in 157 countries around the globe. A few hundred of our fellow Dumbasses reside in New Zealand. I don’t remember if we have ever had a story about a Kiwi Dumbass before or not.
So now, New Zealand, it’s your turn in the spotlight because our Dumbass today is one of your own!
You can thank me for shining the disinfectant of sunlight upon the dregs of your civil society later.
On the surface this story appears to be a fairly routine drunk driving story. But if you dig a little deeper, you get the details that qualify this tale as a bit, shall we say, “unique”? No we shall not say “unique”, we shall say stoopid as fuck.
Not only did the Dumbass in Question, 26 year old Ryan Scott Thompson of Christchurch, get wasted and drive an automobile, he drove said automobile into an old woman’s house scaring the poor lady out of her wits. Luckily there were some neighbors who witnessed the accident and were able to come to the aid of the Little Old Lady and subdue the suspect until the cops got to the scene.
The New Zealand Herald picks up the story from there, “Thompson blew almost three times the legal breath-alcohol limit after smashing into Dawn Sanders’ living room where she had been sitting moments earlier just after 10pm on July 23.
He pleaded guilty to all charges at his first appearance in the district court and was fined and ordered to pay $1500 in “emotional harm” reparation to Mrs Sanders
Neighbours who rushed to Mrs Sanders’ aid detained the grossly intoxicated but uninjured Thompson until police arrived.
Police said he was unable to walk unaided or coherently answer questions.
After Thompson recorded a breath-alcohol reading of 1137mcg/L (Ed.- which means “drunk as fuck” in the American version) at the police station, a police officer was completing paperwork when he heard the sound of running water, according to the summary of facts.”
That sound of running water? Thompson was caught pissing on the breathalyzer tubes at the police station! Now, to my way of thinking, taking a leak anywhere but in the Toilet at the Cop Shop precludes any claim of innocence or police misconduct. In other words, you have been busted, Dumbass! The Herald adds, “The 301 contaminated tubes had to be destroyed. (Ed.- Ya think?!)
Thompson admitted drinking and driving but was unable to offer any explanation. He was taken to Christchurch for detoxification.
Judge Graham Hubble disqualified Thompson from driving for nine months on the excess breath-alcohol charge and a concurrent three months on the careless use count.
He was fined $200 for wilful damage.”
Questions and Comments Abound
- “Disqualified from driving” for nine months? WTF? The guy blew a “drunk as fuck” on the Breathalyzer for Christchurch’s sake! He ought to be disqualified from doing anything but nine months of Kiwi Prison Bitchery. In a homo prison.
- Aside form the fact that the Dumbass crashed into a house, the dude nearly killed a Little Old Lady in the process, and he gets fined $1500? You’re kidding, right, Judge Hubble? Right?
- The Kiwis ain’t nearly as Bad Ass as the Aussies.
- The “sound of running water” is too fucking funny.
- Pissin’ on the Drunk Detectors is also too fucking funny.
So, my dear Kiwi Dumbasses, you may now bask in your moment of glory. You have officially made it to Big Time when you have made it to Dumbass News. And when I say “Big Time” I mean you have hit rock bottom.
For your self-esteem and emotional well-being (and the fact that Judge Hubble still has a job) you should do your penance by donating a large sum of money through the PayPal Donate Button in the right sidebar to Dumbass News. I’ll fly down and have a nice long talk with Judge Hubble. Over a couple of beers of course.
I know it would make me feel better. And “drunk as fuck”.
The Gubmint of the United States of America is a big bidness. And like thousands of other bidnesses around the country, they contract out many services to non-gubmintal entities. For instance, it is not uncommon for a company to contract out for janitorial and cleaning services. In one of the few things it does right, the Federal Gubmint does exactly that, outsources jobs that are better served by private bidnesses.
|Cadets at West Point|
An example of this job outsourcing is evident at the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York.
One of the many non-gubmintal entities employed by The Academy is a company named Watson Services. Watson provides, among other things, food services at West Point.
Enter The Meatballs
Estelle Casimir has been employed by Watson Services for 28 years, by all accounts a loyal and productive employee.
Until she came across The Meatballs.
You see, Estelle’s primary responsibilities at West Point lie in the Housekeeping Department. In the Housekeeping Department there are no specified duties in the Official Watson Services Housekeeping Department Employee Manual relating to meatballs.
As you may have surmised by now, The Meatballs play a large role in today’s story.
It was a normal day the day that The Meatballs came into Estelle Casimir’s life. That day ceased to be normal the moment West Point Authorities found Estelle in an area on campus that did not relate to her duties as a housekeeper. This does not bode well for Estelle. But wait! Things are about to take a dramatic turn.
Not only was Estelle in area that had nothing to do with her work assignment, she was found to be in possession of The Meatballs! Normally, this would not be such a big deal, but it is alleged that Estelle stole The Meatballs from the campus Mess Hall! Again seemingly no biggie. Reprimand or terminate the offender. Right?
These were no run of the mill meatballs. These meatballs were Property of the United States Army, hence, Property of the United States Gubmint! Stealing something from the Gubmint of the United States of America is a very large no-no. Unless of course you are an Elected Official, then you have carte blanche to steal away, meatballs included.
To be fair, Estelle denies any wrongdoing in this matter, but the Federal Gubmint stands by its assertions. Nonetheless, Estelle Casimir faces a $1000 fine and/or a year in a Federal Stockade!
She’s been suspended from her position at Watson Services and has been unsuccessfully looking for housekeeping work.
And more meatballs.
Once upon a time Fearless Leader was a Professional Drinker. As with all good things, this, too, came to an end.
Since You Asked
- No I did not waste my time on 12 Step Program.
- I went through a One Step Program.
- Cold Turkey.
- Over 3 years ago.
- I was not an alcoholic.
- Alcoholics go to meetings.
- I was a Drunk.
- No meetings required.
- Mrs. Fearless Leader threatened to throw me out on my sorry ass if I didn’t stop boozin’.
- She meant it.
- That was my One Step Program.
- No. Alcohol has not crossed my lips since then.
Now, “why”, you must be asking yourself, “would Fearless Leader give us a glimpse into a very private and personal part of his life?”
In spite of my best efforts to leave some kind of “I’m Not an Alcoholic, I’m a ‘Drunk’ Legacy”, all I left behind was a million or two empty beer bottles, a not uneasy task, but nonetheless not nearly as historic as what a guy in Pennsylvania accomplished.
Here is the story of John W. Saunders, mansion caretaker, and The Case(s) of Missing Whiskey:
***Image from triblive.com***
Best of Dumbass News
|Redneck Bottle Rocket|
What is a Redneck? A Redneck is a hard-working harder livin’, God-fearing, take no shit and will kill a sonuvabitch that presents a clear and present danger to him or his family kind of a man. A Redneck is a man who will help his neighbor because it’s the right thing to do, not because some Yankee Liberal dickweed from the Gubmint forced him to do so. Rednecks love music and often have a little band that plays places like the VFW on weekends. He loves Lynyrd Skynyrd, Hank Williams, Jr, Willie and Waylon and George Jones. Regardless of what some guy whose closest encounter with the South is bucket of chicken from the Colonel, not all Rednecks are stoopid. Or dumbasses. The great majority of us are pretty good people. That’s the short version of what a Redneck is. I am a Redneck. I am proud to be a Redneck and anybody that doesn’t like Rednecks can kiss my Redneck ass. Now we can get to today’s story. Provided of course that you didn’t kiss my ass and split the scene. 🙂
However, Some Rednecks ARE Stoopid
There are dumbasses in every segment and ethnicity of the American people. I am sad to say it, but that includes Rednecks. But a Dumbass Redneck is a higher quality of Redneck than any segment of the other Dumbasses in our society. It’s in the Bible, I think. Look under St. Jim Bob, Ch1, Vs1. Rednecks like Mark Wach of Palm City, Florida are the kinds of Rednecks that give the rest of us a bad name. Why?
Mark was, as we Rednecks say, drunk. In his state of intoxication, Mark was having a nice, normal bit of Redneck Fun by blasting away with his firearms. Shooting a gun while drunk is against all that a normal Redneck believes in, therefore Mark is in serious danger of losing his Redneck Card and being forced to un-learn the Top Secret Redneck Handshake. If he can’t un-learn it, then we’ll just kill him. Anyway…Mark was firing off a few rounds on his property when he and his son got into an altercation. The son was all out of whack not simply because Mark was shooting his guns, the son was pissed because Mark was shooting the son’s lawn mower which was in the son’s yard. Where I’m from, we call this Wednesday. As usual, the cops showed up and spoiled the fun. Mark was quick to point out to the fuzz that “this is what Redneck people do.” This is true. But 99% of the time, we did stuff like this before we got bombed. After we got lit up real good, we would move on to much safer Redneck activities. Stuff like playing horse shoes. With the horse shoes still on the horse! Those were mighty good times. Except for the horses.
I do not endorse or condone using a firearm while drunk. That is completely unacceptable at any time. Aside from that minor detail, Mark and his son, I think his name is Bobby Bob, were doing nothing more than having a good old Redneck Hootnanny. However, Mark did some stoopid shit and it gives all Rednecks a bad name.
Here’s some brother to brother, man to man, Redneck to Redneck advice: next time you want to get to’ down, put the weapons away! Play horse shoes. But make sure the horse is cool with it first. Trust me on this one.
Have you ever had trouble removing a ring from your finger?
I have learned over the years that when I do a lot of strenuous work that involves using my hands for an extended period of time, like gardening, my fingers swell up just enough that taking off a ring ain’t as easy as it should be.
I have used several methods of stuck ring removal with varying degrees of success – cold water, soap, butter and others that escape me at the moment.
A Dumbass in Bradford, Pennsylvania has come up with a ring removal idea that is sure to take the Dumbass Horde by storm!
Let me splain.
Wedding Ring Blues
For some damn reason, known only to himself, Alfredo Fortunato Malespini III (is that an Eye-talian name or what?) wanted his wedding ring off his finger, and he wanted it off there bad.
I’m not sure whether or not Alfredo used any cold water, soap or butter in order to get his wedding ring off his finger, but he was persistent in his quest to be ringless. After considerable deliberation, Alfredo finally found a solution to his dilemma!
Grab a hand gun and shoot the wedding ring off his finger!
Now, to the uninitiated, this may seem to be a bit extreme. And that’s because it is, you Dumbass! Who in his right fucking mind would use a firearm to remove a wedding ring from his finger?! Alfredo Fortunato Malespini III, that’s who!
Seriously, Big Al corralled a pistol, carefully took aim at his wedding band and BANG! Problem solved. Sort of.
Alfredo managed to blast his ring finger into oblivion, but there was a slight hitch in his plan. He blew his digit off, but the ring remained on the stump where a moment ago there was a perfectly good ring finger.
I guess it is necessary to the plot to inform you that during this whole deal Alfredo Fortunato Malespini III was, according to police officers who answered the call about a Dumbass shooting off his finger, extremely intoxicated. Ya think?
There’s one more little twist to this story. Alfredo is employed as a prison guard!
Malespini has been charged with a bunch of gun-related shit and could end up sharing a cell with some of the very people he was paid to supervise. Can you say “prison bitch“? I have a sneaky feeling that if Alfredo ends up in the Slammer, the boys in Cell Block D will invent new ways to play “Hide the Sausage” with him.
Suggestions for Alfredo
- For any future wedding ring removal, try cold water, soap or butter.
- Don’t wear a ring.
- Don’t stay married so you won’t be obliged to wear a wedding ring.
- Lay off The Sauce.
- Next time, aim lower. Your nut sack would be a good place to start.
- Have fun in Cell Block D.
- And here’s the obligatory “don’t drop the soap” warning.
I have a sick kid that requires a visit to Old Sawbones this morning so I won’t have time to create another Dumbass Masterpiece. I shall, therefore, regale you with a narrative of Days Gone By. For all you Yoopers, that means here’s some of the Best of Dumbass News.
People are strange, as Jim Morrison wrote lo so many years ago. They (meaning “we”) suffer from some weird shit. Me? I am scared to death of heights, so I suffer from dumbassis tallus itis. Some people are afraid to go outside which, in the parlance of the American Psychiatric Association, is known simply as “stupid as fuck”. Then there are those who are actually scared shitless of clowns. This affliction is known as “bozo erectus areyoukiddingme sigmund freud syndrome”, or coulrophobia.
After reading today’s story we should all be very afraid of grown men who paint their faces up like ancient Zulu warriors in order to amuse people, or as they are known in San Francisco, homos.
But, I digress.
Let’s assume it’s 2:55 in the morning, you are sleeping off a major bender anf all of a sudden, there’s a knock at your door. Under these circumstances, I am grabbing the nearest double barrel 12 gauge and s-l-o-w-l-y approaching the door. If I am still drunk enough, I shoot first, then approach the door. Again, I digress.
This is exactly what happened to a Boca Raton, Florida couple recently. Except for the drunk part. I made that up for dramatic effect.
Instead, however, of being leery of someone knocking at their door at nearly 3 AM (!), the female part of the couple answered the damn door! What could possibly go wrong? Let me tell you what could possibly go wrong. There could be a guy in a scary clown mask at your door just a-chompin’ at the bit to steal 120 Klonopin tablets (Klonopin is BAD, BAD joo joo), expensive watches, your wallet and all its contents including credit cards and cash – what could possibly go wrong.
|Klown on Klonopin|
If you weren’t skeered of clowns before this little incident you will be now. Except for one thing. You know the guy in the scary clown mask. How do you know that you know the guy in the scary clown mask? He lifts up the mask to reveal his identity! Well, hell! I feel all better now! Did I mention that Bozo has two friends with him and they are carrying crow bars? he did and they were.
So, the three clown Dumbasses enter the home swipe the Klonopin (I’m tellin’ ya, this is some nasty shit!), $5000 worth of watches and the wallet, plastic and cash.
The lady later ID’ed the clown who lifted up his mask and he and his buddies were soon busted by the Boca PD.
- I do not answer the door at 3 AM unless the voice on the other side is that of my Mother. I am still shooting first, though. If it really is Mom, I’ll apologize for blasting her to Kingdom Come and she’ll understand. And maybe even forgive me. I am an only son, after all.
- Ditch the Klonopin. I can’t even begin to tell you what that stuff can do to a normal human bean.
- If you know a guy that dresses up like a clown and shows up at your door at 3 o’clock in the morning with two guys carrying crowbars, it’s time to find some new friends.
- You deserve whatever Fate deals you if you keep five thousand dollars worth of watches and Klonopin in the same place.
- You are a Dumbass for all the above reasons.
So, the next time you are at the circus with the kids or grand kids, look at the funny clowns and think of this story, then tell it to the children with you. They’ll see Bozo in a whole new light and they will never answer a 3AM knock at the door unarmed.
And flush the damned Klonopin for Gawd’s sake. That shit is nasty.
The Windy City.
The Second City.
Gun Control Capital of the United States. Hence, Murder Capital of the United States.
Closing in on being The Dumbass Capital of the United States of America, but, for the moment, Florida has the most concentrated Dumbass per capita ratio in The Fruited Plain. Chicago, on the other hand, does lay claim to being The City With the Highest Concentration of Powerful Dumbasses in the United States of America.
A quick roll call of Powerful Dumbasses with Ties to Chicago:
- President of the United States
- Mayor of Chicago, Rahm Emanuel
- Rev. Jesse Jackson
- Jesse Jackson, Jr.
- Father Michael Pfleger
- Rev. Jeremiah Wright
- William Ayers, Terrorist
- Bernadette Dohrn, (Mrs. Wm. Ayers)
- Jay Cutler, QB, Chicago Bears
- Chicago White Sox
That’s quite a list, ain’t it?
The Powerful Dumbasses on The List better make room, because it looks like Chicago has a rising Powerful Dumbass-in-Waiting and at the rate this Young Dumbass is going, he’ll be on The List by his 18th birthday. If he lives that long.
Gun Go BOOM!
The Protagonist in our Dumbass Drama today is but 17 years old.
|Shooters of Weenies***|
Our Protagonist was chillin’ wit sum hoes (a little South Side lingo there) in Northwest Chi-Town one night recently when he thought he’d be cool. And, as you might have guessed, by “be cool” I mean “do something extraordinarily fucked up”.
The kid with the bleeding weenie called the cops. He told them that two guys dressed like ninjas jumped out of a black van and summarily shot him in his package. Then he changed his story. Then he changed his story again. And again. He went on lying to the cops until he got tired of his weenie bleeding like a stuck pig when finally ‘fessed up.
The Young Dumbass was hospitalized and he’ll be fine in due time.
The last paragraph in this story as written on HuffPo goes like this: As of Saturday, multiple reports indicated it was unclear what charges the boy would face, if any. According to the state’s criminal code, giving false reports to police could be classified disorderly conduct and punishable by fines.
“What charges, if any…”? Are you fucking kidding me? You mean “if any” like discharging a firearm within the city limits? No kind of “recklessness with a deadly weapon”-type charges? How about possession of an unregistered pistol? Granted, the HuffPo story doesn’t say that the gun is unregistered, but you can bet your bottom dollar that it ain’t.
“But, Fearless Leader,” you plea, “how can you be so sure of that?”
It’s really quite simple. With the kind of draconian and, in my opinion, unconstitutional, gun control measures in Chicago, along with the Commie mainstream media’s leftist bias concerning firearms, if this pistol was in fact a registered weapon, they (the media and every Illinois politician within range of a TV news camera) would have pounded that point home with Thor’s hammer.
Did I mention that the Powerful Dumbass-in-Waiting came clean to the police about being affiliated with at least one Chicago gang?
“What charges, if any…” Really?
***Photo from Huffington Post via Alamy***