Valley Ho High-Heeled Assault

I just love this one due to the hotel name....

Valley Ho High Heeled Assault


Escort bludgeoned hotel valet for calling yellow cab instead of sedan

MAY 12--A female escort wielding a high-heeled shoe is facing an assault rap after she allegedly used the footwear to beat a valet bloody outside the Hotel Valley Ho in Scottsdale, Arizona, according to police. Jennifer Thomas, 26, was arrested early yesterday in connection with the Monday night attack on the 27-year-old male victim, who was injured after Thomas hit him in the head with the shoe. The heel's tip struck his scalp, "causing him to begin profusely bleeding," according to Scottsdale Police Department reports. "The gash was consistent with the size of the bottom of a high heel shoe." The unprovoked assault apparently was triggered after Thomas--who was wearing a miniskirt and had been drinking in the upscale hotel's bar--asked the valet to call her a cab. When a "standard Yellow Cab" arrived, Thomas, pictured in the mug shot below, became irate, saying, "I'm not fucking getting into that. Who do you think I am?" She added that hotel employees "should know I need a sedan." After a second vehicle was summoned--this time a Lincoln Town Car--Thomas removed a shoe and, "without prompt," took a "violent swing" at the valet. Though the man slipped the first blow, "before he could react again the woman used the same heel, held in her right hand, and hit him on the left side of the head." Directing the Lincoln's driver to "go, go, go!!!," Thomas fled the scene in the fancier ride, but was collared a few hours later at her Phoenix apartment. Following her arrest, which was first reported by the Scottsdale Arizona News blog, Thomas "confessed to the assault," but "claimed she was provoked by hotel staff," according to investigators. An arrest report, which lists Thomas's occupation as "upscale companion escort," notes that she was charged with assault, disorderly conduct, and possession of an invalid driver's license, all misdemeanors. The victim, who was "crying, shaking and talking loudly" when interviewed by cops, was treated at the scene by paramedics, but declined transport to a hospital.

Size Matters

For Airport Security, Size Matters

Cops: New high-tech screener triggered fight over manhood insult

MAY 6--A Transportation Security Administration screener is facing an assault rap after he allegedly beat a co-worker who joked about the size of the man's genitalia after he walked through a security scanner. The May 4 confrontation involved Rolando Negrin, 44, and other TSA employees who had previously taken part in a training session at Miami International Airport, according to the below Miami-Dade Police Department reports. Negrin, pictured in the mug shot at right, and his co-workers had been training with new "whole body image" machines--the controversial kind that provide very revealing images of a traveler--when Negrin walked through the scanner. "The X-ray revealed that [Negrin] has a small penis and co-workers made fun of him on a daily basis," reported cops. Following his arrest, Negrin told police that he "could not take the jokes anymore and lost his mind." After work Tuesday evening, Negrin confronted fellow TSA screener Hugo Osorno in an airport parking lot. Negrin wanted to "resolve a problem," and get Osorno, 34, to "finally respect him." Instead, Negrin allegedly pulled out a police baton and began striking Osorno, while demanding an apology. A witness told cops that Negrin told Osorno, in Spanish, "Get on your knees or I will kill you and you better apologize." When Negrin, wearing his TSA uniform, arrived for work yesterday, he was arrested on an aggravated battery count and booked into the Miami-Dade lockup. Osorno, police reported, suffered "bruises and abrasions on his back and arms" during the attack.

I Will Kill You With My Bare Hands

I have a great affinity for crazy people in general, but crazy famous people?!?! LOVE 'EM! So I'm loving this:


Russell Crowe is set to capture America's heart all over again when Robin Hood hits theaters in two weeks. But let us not forget: Russell Crowe is crazy. Some exclusive excerpts from a new book remind us just how crazy.

The following excerpts are taken from

The Men Who Would Be King: An Almost Epic Tale of Moguls, Movies, and a Company Called DreamWorks
 by Nicole Laporte, which will be released May 4. Her chapter on the making of Gladiator contains these tidbits about what it's like to work with Russell Crowe. First, his negotiation style:

"You motherfucker. I will kill you with my bare hands."



"Hello?" Branko Lustig said, confused and barely awake; it was, after all, 3 a.m. in England.


"You motherfucker," the speaker repeated.


"Who's on the phone? Who is this?" Lustig demanded.


When Russell Crowe identified himself, the genuinely terrified Lustig, one of the producers of the about-to-be-filmed Gladiator, hung up and called Steven Spielberg in Los Angeles.


"Steven," he said. "I'm leaving. Russell wants to kill me. I'm leaving."


Having survived a concentration camp, Lustig was not taking any chances.


Crowe, not yet Russell Crowe, but still just another verkakte Australian coming off a sleeper (L.A. Confidential), was sour because he believed DreamWorks was low-balling his assistants on their per diems. Rather than raise this grievance at a mundane daylight hour, Crowe opted for a more dramatic statement, a tactic not unknown in these parts. The actor's recent behavior had been erratic, just like everything else on the project.

Next, a surly and apparently hung over Russell comes to a script meeting at Ridley Scott's production facility one morning. He insults the recent script changes and walks out. Ridley Scott finally tracks Crowe down and gently ushers him back to the meeting:

Finally, Crowe materialized—unrepentant and sans affability. If Scott's pep talk had any effect, it seemed to have lodged deep in the actor's subconscious. Crowe played along, but refused to summon a scintilla of good humor. He didn't so much recite his lines as growl them in a deranged accent that flitted between indeterminate continents of origin. More absurd was Oliver Reed's delivery. Even though his lines were as long as haiku, he filled them with dramatic flourishes. Having recently renounced drinking, he said that the only thing he was chugging was lemonade, but the question was just what he was mixing in the stuff.


"My oold frrriend," he read, puckering his lips and rolling his r's with all the pomp of a 17th century thespian.


Crowe, in turn, chewed up monologues, spitting out each and every poisonous syllable.


Screenwriter John Logan, who has lovingly crafted many of these lines, watched in horror. He scrawled four words on a piece of paper: "Kill me! Kill me!"


A month later, after filming in England, the shoot moved to Ouarzazate, Morocco – a town near the Sahara Desert, where Hollywood has traditionally gone for its sword and sandal needs (Lawrence of Arabia was filmed in the area). Crowe's mood did not improve. Twice, he had walked off the set. Even when he was supposedly having "fun," Crowe was a puffy pain. After challenging members of the crew to a foot race, and losing, he would mutter for days, "I would have won, but I can't run in the sand in sandals."



Heh! And finally, an inside look at the ferocious working style of the world's greatest actor (Russell Crowe):




Never were Crowe's spirits more in flux than when he was to read the climactic, "And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next" scene, in which his character, Maximus, removes his helmet and reveals his identity. It was only the most seminal line in the entire movie, and yet Crowe was convinced that it was ridiculous – overwrought, puffery that no man would ever be caught dead saying, least of all a brawny, sword-carrying killer standing under the unrelenting African sun. Scott was one of the few people who seemed to understand Crowe, that underneath all that volatility was a very scared actor who needed to feel safe. Rather than blow up at him, Scott waited until the tantrum subsided. Then he agreed to shoot the scene the way Crowe preferred.


After doing the take, Crowe still looked dissatisfied. "Let me see the other script again," he said to Scott, referring to the loathed revision. After studying the page stonily, he shrugged. "Well, we might as well try it."


And so, the scene was reshot. Everyone agreed it was brilliant. Everyone, that is, but Crowe. "Russell, what's the problem?" Scott asked, finally showing a hint of exasperation. "It worked."


"It was shit," Crowe repeated, "but I'm the greatest actor in the world and I can make even shit sound good." And with that he marched off.

Home Sweet Home

A friend of mine is an architect.  His personal style is classy, understated and elegant, but he has to pander to the desires of his clients, obviously.  In this day and age of gaudy McMansions, he is requested to do all sorts of insane things - one client even requested a huge gilded two seater swing hanging in their two story foyer.  Eventually, he became so exasperated he decided to go a little crazy with his plans and throw in the most bizarre features he could imagine just to see what would happen.  "Floating bathtub" mounted on clear pedestals - client loved it.  Toilet encased in a raised throne - client loved it.  Curved walls in a hallway to create the illusion of walking through a tube - you guessed it, they loved it.

He hates just about every job he has done, but he is in high demand and rolling in dough.

You know what? Curved walls would make cleaning so much easier.  No more dust (or in my home, dog hair - and lots of it) accumulating in the non-existent corners.

Though I would probably have some big problems when tipsy.

How can I get me one of them there toilet thrones, Sebastian?

The Writing On The Wall

In the restroom at my office, nasty graffitti started appearing on the walls, all of it centered around a particular female comworker of mine.  It was pretty graphic, all about her enjoyment of perfoming deviant sexual acts that I won't list (aw, c'mon, aren't we all friends here?).  Obviously, she was very upset.  More writing would appear overnight, so my superiors knew it had to be one of the plentiful cleaning people that came in at night.  But which  one?  Since it is illegal to put video in a bathroom, a camera was erected right outside the entrance.  The next day when more slurs appeared, the tape was reviewed and it was discovered which cleaning guy it was.  Obviously he was fired, but the best part was his reasoning.  He stated that "The b*tch left crumbs and dirt around her desk.  She's a pig who needs to learn to clean up after herself."

I bet she cleaned up her act quick.  So punny, I am!

Apparently Tapit saw the writing on the wall.  *snicker*

A Genius!

Sometimes I receive a submission so eloquent, so refined, that I just have to post it exactly as it came in:

I SPIT AND SH*T ALL OVER YUR FOOD!  hAHAHH!  U SUCK AND EAT IT WTH MY SPERM MIX A$$HOLES.  F*CK DUMB SH*T.

Well, I didn't spell out some of the more profane words, but I think you see what I mean.  A scholar is among us!

Does your Mommy know you are on the computer, Name-I-won't-repeat-cause-it's-filthy?

Celebrity Insanity

What can be more fun than when a celebrity goes a little nutty?

We'll start with the most famous, which I'm pretty sure EVERYONE has seen, but it's still entertaining enough to watch again.



Mike Tyson most certainly seems to have several screws loose:



Good old Mel Gibson. He was once one of the biggest movie stars, and people adored him. Then he became an angry, offensive drunk. And now a very cranky interviewee.





I don't think Quentin Tarantino likes this woman very much:



We thought Bjork's swan dress was crazy:

Weatherman Freakout

I kinda love this guy:

Weatherman Freaks Out - watch more funny videos

Scoop The Poop

I work in the maintenance department of a state park.  The park is very popular with dog walkers, and there are signs all over about scooping your dog's poop.  BUT.....so many people do not bother.  So it totally sucks for us, the people who have to clean it up, but also for the hikers and playing children who step in (or roll on, in the case of the children) a fecal landmine.  We see people all the time, standing there while their dog poops, and then nonchalantly walking away like the rest of the world are their servants and they are too good to clean up after themselves.  You can only imagine how mad we get...

So mad that when one day my co-worker saw this happening though an office window, he ran outside, picked up the fresh poop with his BARE HANDS and hurled it at the dog owner while screaming "Pick up after your dog, you pig!"  The poo hit the guy square in the back, streaking down the back of his jacket as it slid off. 

Good thing the guy was more embarrassed about breaking  the Pooper Scooper Law than angry and just rushed to his car and took off without reporting anyone.

Ew, did he just get in his car and lean back on the seat in his caca coat?

By the way, while we are on this subject, I hate when people don't clean up after their dog.  There is a woman who walks all the way from her house about a quarter of a mile away to the street where I live, where she lets her two dogs poop freely without a baggie or scooper in sight.  On people's lawns.  Where kids play.  And I fall down when I've had a few too many.

Anyway, lady, I have my eye on you, and next time I see you, the poo will be flying.  Beware, I have VERY good aim.

Your job kinda stinks, doesn't it, RandyHanson?

Finger Lickin' Good

We have lunch meetings all the time, where we order in food and sit around the table in the conference room.  My colleague, who I will call Jim, is a very, VERY large man.  Morbidly obese.  We actually have to bring in two arm-less chairs for him and push them together so he can sit down.  He's a really nice guy, but he has some unusual habits.  One is that he brings a WHOLE roasted chicken in for lunch every day.  I think he also has some breathing issues, so when he eats, he does so with his mouth wide open.  This drives another colleague, who I will call Jane, batty. 

One day we were at one of these lunch meetings, and Jim was eating his chicken as ususal.  He was covered in chicken grease and chewing loudly with his mouth open.  I could see Jane growing more and more tense, until she finally stood up, slammed both hands down on the table and screamed "Close your mouth, you f*cking pig!"  As soon as it came out of her mouth, she gasped, covered her mouth with her hands,  started to cry and apologize profusely. 

Jim took it all in stride, suprisingly, and said he has heard way, way worse stuff about himself than anything she had said.  Bizarrely enough, Jim and Jane are very good friends now, and he even attended her wedding.

Aw, how sweet.  All's well that end's well and all that. 

I pity poor Jim, though, having to hear worse things about himself than f*cking pig.   My usual funny (or at least I think it's funny, others may not) commentary escapes me on this one, since I just feel kinda.....sad.

:(

Now I have a craving for roasted chicken, JulioJJ.

Terms Of Endearment

A woman I worked with was having an affair with a male coworker.  She thought it was 'loooove'  while he wanted nothing more that an occasional *bleep* (bleep added by me, although I have no problem with words like *bleep*, or *bleeping* or *bleepity-bleep*.  I just don't want to offend anyone else who may be less crass than me.  Or who may be reading at work).

One day she found out the 'terms of endearment' he was referring to her as when he spoke to other male coworkers.  They included slam piece, easy lay, etc.  Spreads as easy as warm butter was my favorite.  (Sorry, I couldn't bleep these.  'Cause they're kinda funny.)  She ran over to his cubicle crying, and grabbed whatever she could reach on his desk and hurled it at him.  Coffee (while still in a mug), cellphone, random papers.  I think the stapler probably hurt the worst.

They were both summoned to the boss's office, and given a lecture on proper work demeanor and inter-office dating.  As far as I know, they have never spoken to or even looked at each other again.

Well, THAT must have made for a tension-free office environment, no?

I'm sure all the rest of the ladies in the office were lining up to date him.  What girl doesn't swoon at being called slam piece?

Never heard that warm butter one before, JerryCola45!

Teacher Of The Year

I am a Kindergarten teacher. At my school, I have a classroom that is connected to another teacher's classroom by a swinging door. My neighboring teacher was always a bit high-strung to say the least. She always told other faculty how much the kids pissed her off, and she had a particular dislike for a couple of her students. Truly, I have no idea why she ever became a teacher, except maybe because she likes her summers off. Anyway, one day I hear her start to yell. But not just yell, I hear her screaming at her students that they are a bunch of spoiled, evil little sh*ts, and she wished their parents had used birth control.

Wait, that's it?  What happened to her?  Did the 'powers that be' just say, "You're right, they ARE a bunch of evil sh*ts!  Bravo!" and let her keep teaching?

Don't leave us hanging, Stringer!

In The News: The Weirdest Of 2009

Finger Lickin' Good: Don't Try This At Home

By Ed Orum


There's a certain chicken chain where "finger lickin' good" has proved to be advertising gold.

This isn't a story about that.


It's the tale of former British supermarket employee who has taken the idea to a new level of bizarreness.

30-year old Adeel Ayub is facing criminal charges for, among other things, licking raw chickens and placing them back on store shelves for unsuspecting shoppers. Digest that for a minute while you ponder how he didn't contract salmonella, and you're probably wondering why anyone would do such a thing. As they say on TV, "But Wait, That's Not All!"

Seems Ayub was dumb enough to let a co-worker tape the shenanigans.

The video is now making the rounds online, and it shows some of the laundry list of offenses including urinating into garbage cans, throwing raw eggs, slashing his colleagues' clothes, discharging fire extinguishers and playing rock star in the break room by tearing up the place. There was also a game of stockroom baseball with items destined for store shelves.



Ayub worked for four years at the British supermarket chain Asda, which is owned by Walmart. While he has already apologized for the antics - which took place a few years ago - he gives no reason for his extra-curricular activities. He's due in court later this month.

So of course I searched for the video, so you don't have to:

Holiday Office Party

I have posted this one before, way back in the summer, but I wanted to get it up here again because I think it just summarizes Holiday Office Party fun so well.



I'm sure she got an excellent reference.

Fra-Gee-Lay - It Must Be From Italy!

I'm a package handling guy for a major shipping company - I won't say which one (UPS? FedEx?  Isn't that all of them?) - and all of us here at work hate this time of year because our work multiples by about one hundred percent.  One of the guys I worked with used to let out his frustration by taking any box that said FRAGILE on it, shaking it and sometimes even throwing it on the ground or up against a wall.  He would only do it to packages that were obviously from mail/internet order companies, not individuals, because then the sender would get the blame and have to replace the item, not us.

I will admit his mood would totally change and he'd be the happiest-go-lucky guy there after he got his anger out of his system.

That guy must have ruined many a Christmas morning - but, hell, as long as HE felt better, right?

I am going to invest in a bubble wrap company, DrowningInAPuddle. And also, just lift your head up, puddles aren't really that deep.  You're welcome.

Dude Looks Like A Lady

Many years ago I worked with a man who hated his job and made it clear to everyone how badly he wanted to get fired.  Our boss knew this, but wanted to force him to quit rather than allow him to get severance and collect unemployment.  So it became a contest of wills.

The fellow who wanted to be fired took to wearing increasingly bizarre outfits to work.  Its started with a robe and pajamas and went all the way to full on drag.  The boss pretended nothing was amiss with his clothing, while at the same time piling more and more weird tasks on him, such as watering the front lawns (while he was dressed as a woman), trying to force him to quit.  At this point the rest of us workers were truly enjoying whatever new spectacles that these two had for us each day.  Work was most certainly not dull.

It finally became too much when the one who wanted to be fired decided to let his personal hygiene slide.  No more bathing, toothbrushing or changing his clothes anymore.  That's when it became unbearable for the rest of us, and we forced our boss's hand.

He was handed his walking papers with a big 'YOU WIN' written across them.

Great ideas!  I am so getting out the panty hose, high heels and a dress to wear Monday morning so I can get outta this job...

Oh, crap, that's not gonna work for me since I'm female, will it?  And I'm just not willing to go the poor hygiene route.

Or am I?

Thanks to GrannyBee!
 

Small Birds And Big Men

Two guys I work with have an intense football team rivalry going on. One is insane about the Giants, the other is equally loony about the Eagles.


One Monday after watching their teams play Sunday, the two of them got into a heated argument. This argument eventually became a screaming match until the Eagles fan took a swing at the Giant guy. Then it was all out war, rolling on the ground fighting like their lives depended on it - all while dressed in suits and ties. A bunch of us broke up the fight, and the men retreated to their offices with their bloody noses and bruises.

The best part is that these were two VPs of a mediation company - we are supposed to defuse situations, not ignite them.

I find this one even funnier if you go back and reread it assuming that the eagles guy is a fan of our fine feathered friends and the giants guy is enamored with people of huge stature. Heh.

We appreciate you punting this one our way, TeddyG.!  (Yeah, I know.  That was bad.  Hey, I try.)

Farming Fun

When I was a younger man, I used to work on my dad's farm.  One of  farmhands we hired to help us bale hay hated his job and it seemed to make him rather depressed. 


To get out of work he actually stabbed himself throught he foot with a pitchfork, hoping for disability.


Instead he was back two weeks later with a banadge and a limp.  Seems he missed all vital parts and it was just a flesh wound.

So after reading this one, how many of you thought of:



Next time, tell him to use a dirty pitchfork.  The infection might get him a little more time off...

Hay there, Trunco!  Thanks!

Burn, Baby, Burn

I worked for a certain person who would drive me completely insane. She used to eat yogurt with a spoon very slowly as she talked for 2 hours. I found myself staring at the spoon and wishing it would spontaneously combust and burn in a hot metal fire. She also was a fanantic about staples. When she found a staple that was not 2 inches from the top of the page and centered she would remove it and place a post-a-note informing you where to staple and circle the area in red marker. So basically you would have to redo everything. She kept me in an office completely by myself. I was not allowed to eat or talk with other staff. The only hope I had was staring out the window waiting for the delivery driver. It is no wonder my favorite color is brown.

I'm not sure she did the wrong thing by separating you from others. I mean you're wishing that people would combust in yogurt related fires.  Sounds a little crazy, ya know?

Don't worry, brown is a cool color, JHSzurpicki.

Head Banger

A guy I worked with seemed like the most normal, average, every day kind of guy. EXCEPT when something did not go as planned. Then we would find him in the bathroom banging his head on the tiled wall (HARD) and muttering derogatory things about himelf such as idiot, moron, dummy. No one knew quite what to do about this, or how to approach him on it, until I took it upon myself at the Holiday Party...

Spouses were invited, so after I had imbibed in what was probably too many holiday spirits, I approached the head-bangers wife. I asked her "Does Tom bang his head on the wall at home, too, when something doesn't go his way?". I guess he didn't, because she looked shocked and horrifed, excused herself, grabbed him and headed out the door.

I don't know what his wife said or did, but the banging stopped.

That's actually kinda.....sad.

But anyway, SamWho?, don't you feel a wee bit guilty about the scene that must have gone down in their house after they left? Way to go spreading that holiday cheer.