DEATH ROW WEDNESDAY

Death Row Wednesday is a weekly post that explores the macabre issue of Capital Punishment – not in terms of thumbs up or thumbs down, but rather, what would you choose as your last words if you found yourself on death’s door?

This week, you’re invited to post a comment consistent with the theme of the week. So blog in and be sure to tell us what final utterance would burst forth from your pie-hole if you were about to meet your fate! For inspiration, you can check out some famous last words uttered by some notorious criminals. My favorite reads as follows: “When his attorney came into the witness room, he said, "Tell Mom I love her." The attorney said back to him, "I love you, too." Now we know why this guy got the chair. Enough cannot be said about being able to afford a good lawyer.

Here are some more favorites!!!

“I love you all. I do not know all your names. And I don't know how you feel about me.”
Really? He doesn’t know? Did he notice the I.V. drip in his arm about to deliver $87.00 worth of fatal narcotics? (see last week’s post).

You gotta love this guy:

“Statement to the Media:
I, at this very moment, have absolutely no fear of what may happen to this body. My fear is for Allah, God only, who has at this moment the only power to determine if I should live or die...As a devout Muslim, I am taught and believe that this material life is only for the express purpose of preparing oneself for the real life that is to come...Since becoming Muslim, I have tried to live as Allah wanted me to live.
Spoken:
Yes, I do.
I love you.
Asdadu an la ilah illa Allah,
Asdadu an la ilah illa Allah,
Asdadu anna Muhammadan Rasul Allah,
Asdadu anna Muhammadan Rasul Allah.
I bear witness that there is no God but Allah.
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.
Inna li-Allah wa-inna ilayhi rajiun.
Verily unto Allah do we belong, Verily unto him do we return.
Be strong.”

I’d have pulled the switch at the first “Asdadu” whether he was finished or not.

Here’s a good one.
Warden: “Son, you gots any last words ferun we do this thing?”
Convict: “I have no last words. I am ready.”
Warden: “Dagnabit now there Son! You jest said some last words even though you said you ain’t got no last words! Yous gonna screw up my last words website with that remark! Why I oughta kill you!”

And lastly, this one deserves an honorable mention:
“I don’t think so. That’s all. Go ahead. Start things rolling. (Mouthed "Hi, Mom" to his mother.)”

I call this one, Dial “M” for Murder - Our Death Row spotlight this week is cast upon Clifford X. Phillips for not knowing the difference between a mishap and Capital Murder. In his final statement, he states: “I want to express my feelings regarding the mishap of the deceased Mrs. Iris Siff. That was a very unfortunate incident and only God knows why it was an unintentional situation that took place.”

Here’s a summary of the offense committed by Mr. Mishap:
Clifford X. Phillips – Convicted in the January 1982 strangulation death of 58-year old Iris Siff, managing director of the Alley Theater in Houston. Phillips had gone into Siff’s office to rob her, but was forced to kill her in self-defense when she allegedly attacked him. Siff was found dead in her office. She had been strangled to death with a telephone cord. Phillips stole Siff’s television, fur coat, jewelry, tote bag and Lincoln Continental after the killing.

Whew! Glad that was just an accident!

If you like reading the last words of the famous and not so famous – criminal and not so criminal, then click on these links for more. Innocent Last Words and Audio Last Words . Do their final words sound muffled? Perhaps it’s the black bag over their head. And just in case you can’t get enough, here’s one more link for you. This web page is chock full of historical executions culled from the Library of Congress . Lots of way-cool stuff in here. Enjoy! One last thing – if you have a topic you’d like to see me butcher here on Death Row Wednesday, please feel free to let me know.

By D.Tkon

Dear Uncle Scott Who Is Really More My Age and So I Think Of You Kind Of Like a Brother:

I always think of you this time of year. I see the costumes- the spiders and ghosts and cute little bloody Draculas and it makes me want to like Halloween. I might have liked Halloween, but not after The Incident. I know you wish that I would forget The Incident, but I just can’t. And my mother tells me to get over it as though it would be that easy. And my sisters claim to not even remember it- did you pay them off? (Yes, I’m aware that we’re over 30 years old and this happened more than 20 years ago. I can really hold a grudge, huh?)

Every Halloween, my mother (your sister) and Grandma (your mother) drove us around house to house. The night of The Incident, I remember overhearing some of my mother’s conversation with Grandma. We were going to a widower’s home next because it was a nice thing to do. My mother waited until we were out of the car to say, “He probably doesn’t have candy, just wish him a happy Halloween.”

You rang the doorbell. The house was completely dark except for a bluish glow from the television. We waited. And waited. We were about to give up when we heard someone moving in the house and the porch light came on. An elderly man opened the door. He was so excited. You tried, I’ll give you that. You said, “We just came to say Happy Halloween!” Then began backing away. But we didn’t follow quickly enough.

The man invited us in so he could “have a look at us.” We went in and showed off our costumes. Finally he said, “Well, let me see now, I didn’t expect visitors tonight, but I’m sure I have something for you.” Everyone knows that “something” means an apple. To our surprise, he came back from the kitchen with FULL SIZE CLARK BARS. He removed the cellophane and told us that he had them for lunch everyday. He left them in their box, sat it down and said, “Help yourselves.” Then he went outside to wave at my mother and grandma. There were just enough FULL SIZE CLARK BARS for each of us to have one. My sisters exited and each took a candy bar. You were right behind me, and as I picked up mine, you said, “Put it back, they’re his lunch. He didn’t even expect us.” And you put yours back in the box.

You knew that I would listen to you because my mother always made me listen to you. I watched you put yours back and wanting to emulate you, wanting to do the right thing, wanting you to be proud, wanting you not to tell on me, I nobly put mine back, too. As I stepped outside, I looked back through my steamed-up plastic mask for your approval- maybe a reassuring smile telling me that I’d done the right thing. AND I SAW YOU TAKE YOUR FULL SIZE CLARK BAR BACK.

You betrayed me. And then you let my sisters call me crybaby- I’m still bitter about that, too. I think I’ve never really trusted since then. I know it’s been over 20 years, but I can’t forget it. I’ve mentioned The Incident to you on several occasions, but you’ve never really acknowledged it. You don’t remember. Convenient memory loss, wouldn’t you say? And, no, I don’t want a Clark Bar. Stop asking me that. Don’t you understand the deeper meaning of The Incident and the impact on my life? Besides, they hurt my teeth. That’s not the point.

Maybe if you just apologized. (In writing, so I can show my mother). Maybe if you told my sisters than I’m not a crybaby because I cried in the car that night and couldn’t get my mask off to tell them all what had happened. Maybe then I could get over it.

I just want you to know that I’m still bitter and if I ever go crazy I will blame it on you.

Your niece,

(Name of Submitter Removed)

And You Thought Your Job Was Tough!

Here is some amazing information about the job performed by U.S. Servicemen who guard the Tomb of the Unknown Solider. No commentary necessary, this truly speaks for itself.

1. Q: How many steps does the guard take during his walk across the tomb of the Unknowns and why?
A: 21 steps. It alludes to the twenty-one gun salute, which is the highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.

2. Q: How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his return walk and why?
A: 21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1

3. Q: Why are his gloves wet?
A: His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the rifle.

4. Q: Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time and if not, why not?
A: He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb. After his march across the path, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.

5. Q: How often are the guards changed?
A: Guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.

6. Q: What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?
A: For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be between 5' 10" and 6' 2" tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30." Other requirements of the Guard: They must commit 2 years of life to guard the tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb, and cannot drink any alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public for the rest of their lives and cannot disgrace the uniform {fighting} or the tomb in any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only 400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin. The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt. There are no wrinkles, folds or lint on the uniform. Guards dress for duty in front of a full-length mirror. The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone, nor watch TV. All off duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. A guard must memorize who they are and where they are interred. Among the notables are: President Taft, Joe E. Lewis {the boxer} and Medal of Honor winner Audie Murphy, {the most decorated soldier of WWII} of Hollywood fame. Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for guard duty.

ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.

In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment. They respectfully declined the offer, "No way, Sir!" Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson. The tomb has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.

By D.Tkon

Happy Halloween!

In keeping with the spirit of the day, I thought we might try to raise some answers to questions that haunt all of us. Namely, how much does my body weigh? Its easy enough to figure out how much your corporeal body weighs, simply drag your corpse into the bathroom and stand on a scale. However, what you may not know is how much the parts of your body weigh, when separated from each other! A simple search on-line will reveal the various weights of your severed body parts, for example that your severed eye weighs in at around 1 ounce; your detached brain weighs 3 lbs (unless you are from Glasgow, DE, in which case the generous answer is closer to 2.3 lbs); your freshly removed skin weighs in at anywhere from 8-10 lbs on average, etc...

Ok, that's easy enough. But what you're probably wondering is whether or not there are other, more supernatural components of your body, and if so, what they weigh. You might be wondering, was there really a doctor who performed morbid experiments with the moribund at the beginning of the 20th Century? Did he really determine the weight of a human soul to be 21 ounces? Did he perform ghoulish experiments on dogs? Did he enjoy playing tennis? Only one way to find out (the tennis question is not answered in the article, you'll have to consult some other medium for that answer). Dr. MacDougal’s Ghastly Experiments

by File Boy

Fun with Numbers

If you're familiar with the Bible, you know that we are supposed to be on the look-out for the anti-christ, and his famous 666 number (editor: While there is some argument that 666 was derived from a mistranslated piece of text and should have been 616, for the purposes of this article we'll just say its 666).

According to the Bible, during the end-times, the anti-christ will make his appearance on the world's stage and promise peace and security, provided you have the number of the beast.

Revelation 13:18 reads, "Here is wisdom. He who has understanding, let him calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man. His number is six hundred sixty-six.”

Some theologians argue that taken literally, this Bible verse gives us clues to the identity of the anti-christ. I recently stumbled onto a website that provides a tool for performing such calculations. Calculate the number using Gematria

This is a fun exercise. You simply type in a person's name (any name) and it gives you their "number". If you want more of an explanation of how this works you'll have to go to the site and do some reading. I recommend you bring the kids in and have them type in their teacher's names to see if in fact, their teachers are the anti-christ. You may want to try typing in your boss's name, or the names of political leaders. I don't want to give away any of the fun, but "Mark of Beast", "bio-implant", "sorceries", "US of America" and "necromancy" all equal 666. There are many more.

Enjoy!

by File Boy

Melvin Lacey Tiger and Grizzly Holiday pic (from story below)

For anyone who has worked in an office setting, you're no doubt familiar with the unrequested, unwanted and unnecessary "Holiday Update" newsletter some people hand out around the Holidays.

Last year, a friend of mine received the attached newsletter from a co-worker, and shared it with me. Please note that my friend was working at the place that is disparaged in the newsletter as not paying enough money. In other words, the person who handed this out, gave it to people who worked at "the bank" after she left because the bank didn't pay enough. What a great way to let your co-workers know that you are better than them.

This letter is reproduced here in its entirety, only the names have been changed to protect the idiotic.

"2005 has been an exciting year for our family.

In the last 12 months our lives have truly been blessed. In March Melvin found out that he matched in Orthopaedic Surgery at (_______) Hospital in Philadelphia. It was a 10 year goal/dream that finally came to fruition. The program he matched in is one of the top 5 orthopaedic programs in the nation. He has been working very hard and very long hours. Lacey is lucky to see him between her business trips and Melvin working the graveyard ship from time to time. January – April 2006 will be 4 of the hardest months for his entire residency.

Lacey decided to go back to the bank she worked at before we got married. They hired her back Last November and promoted her to Supervisor shortly after. She decided she was not making enough money or being challenged enough so she quit the bank and decided to start her own small consulting firm. She launched http://www._______.com/ and now has 9 clients that she works with. Her clients range from running a medical research study to designing websites, working in politics in Philadelphia, and working in sales. She is very happy with her company and has the opportunity to travel all over the nation all the time.

In May we decided to celebrate our one year wedding anniversary with a trip to Europe. We went to London, Paris and Rome and spent 9 days backpacking all around. We had a great time and Melvin finally got to leave this continent and get a few stamps in his passport.

In August, Melvin was told he had only one week vacation between August and June and was instructed to take his vacation the week of August 6th. Because we did not want him to spend his only vacation sitting at home, we decided to take another trip and went on a cruise to Bermuda. We had a fantastic time and purchased art for the house and most importantly met Paul and Denise – a couple who lives 15 minutes away and have become very good friends.

Because our schedules are so hectic and we were gone so often we decided that it was important to get Tiger a little brother. Grizzly came into our lives on September 15th when we picked him up from the breeder in California. He will be 6 months old on Christmas Day and is a little terror. We love him and Tiger is finally getting used to having him around.

We truly are blessed and have had an amazing year. Melvin is living his dream and Lacey is finally her own boss. We are still counting the days until we can move back to California and the great weather.

Happy Holiday – keep us up to date with your lives!"

______________________________

Now, in keeping with the generous spirit of the Holiday season, the staff at WhyIShootStuff have decided to re-write the newsletter, but do so in a way that allows you the reader to read it the way we read it. Merry Christmas!

My Family Has Outdone Your Family in 2005!

In the last 12 months our lives have truly been blessed, probably more than you have been blessed. In March, Melvin found out that he is the best ORTHOPAEDIC SURGEON in the country. Since our country has the best ORTHOPAEDIC SURGEONS in the world, this is truly a marvelous fete. He has been working very hard and long hours because he is so great. Lacey is lucky to see him between her business trips and Melvin working the gravy boat from time to time. Why am I speaking in the third person? Because it is the way of royalty, you peasant.

Even though it is clearly beneath her, Lacey decided to go back to the bank she worked at before we got married. They hired her back last November and immediately promoted her to SUPERIOR. Oops, I mean Supervisor. She decided that she wasn’t making nearly enough money because she is so f___ing talented that she was running the entire bank herself while simultaneously running our household, caring for two ridiculous dogs and looking down her bent nose at everyone in her path. She decided to start her own condescending firm. Oops, I mean consulting firm. I know what you are thinking. To be a consultant, one should first be an expert at something, and possibly have 20 years experience. Not to worry, Lacey can pretend to be an adult because Melvin makes such exquisite money that he can afford to bankroll one stupid whim after the other for her. Next week she’ll be a pilot. The week after that she may try her hand at politics, we don’t know. Anyway, her new business is on the web, at http://www.wearesomuchbetterthanyou@starfer.com/. Lacey is great. She is very happy with her company and has the opportunity to travel all the time. If you work at the bank, please be aware that Lacey now makes more money than you.

Did you get our picture (enclosed)? Take a look at Lacey. She looks as though she has been beaten about the face with a horse hoof. The fence post she’s standing next to is Melvin. He is an ORTHOPAEDIC SURGEON. You probably are not a SURGEON like Melvin.

In May we decided to celebrate our one year anniversary by traveling around the world in a hot air balloon. We purchased artwork from famous artists and lit Cuban cigars with 100 dollar bills. Melvin is a surgeon.

Because of our immense talent, our schedules are very hectic. We bought a ridiculous dog and then named it Tiger. We chose that name because it is the name of the new cappuccino-latte offered at Starbucks. They call it Tiger-latte. We have a “latte” of fun with Tiger! duh.

We are blessed, more than you. We had an amazing year. Melvin is living his dream. Lacey is her own boss. We’ll be moving to California where it is warm and expensive and where people like us fit in. Melvin is a surgeon.

Happy Holiday – keep us up to date with your lives (actually we don’t really care what you are up to, we gave this newsletter to everyone to let everyone know how great we’re doing)!

Melvin, Lacey, Tiger and Grizzly!

by File Boy

WARNING - Toddlers Only!

It’s a fact! Women will tell you that they don’t fart as much as men. However, the reason is that they just don’t keep their mouths closed long enough to build up enough pressure.

If you’re still reading, then you should check out this cool website called Facts on Farts . This site answers every possible pungent ponderable on the subject along with about a thousand questions you would just never have imagined.

Sample this:

Q: If you fart in the bathtub, is the water polluted and should you refill the tub?

A: As long as what comes out is only fart and no poop, your bath water should not be significantly polluted. Most of the gas just bubbles up and contaminates the air rather than the water.

And,

Q: Is it possible to capture a fart in a jar and save it for later use?

A. Yes. It can be done while bathing in a bathtub. Fill the jar with bath water and hold it with the open end downward. Lean back in the bathtub so that your fart bubbles will emerge in front of you rather than behind you where you can’t see them. Catch the bubbles in the jar and put the lid on the jar while it’s still underwater. This way, you capture a fairly pure fart uncontaminated by atmospheric air. To enjoy your captured fart to the fullest extent, make sure that your jar does not already smell like whatever was in it before, like pickles or peanut butter.

The depth upon which this subject is explored here is absolutely intoxicating! Enjoy.

By D.Tkon

Mail Bag

Dear WhyIShootStuff.com Editors,

Recently my wife and I have become concerned that our eldest pet “Lucky” is dabbling in recreational drugs. Lucky is our German Shepard and he’s only ten months old. Due to his young age and good upbringing I think it is not only unlikely that he would use drugs, I am convinced that he knows better. My wife on the other hand, thinks Lucky needs some sort of intervention. Help please!

Signed,

Concerned in Concordville

Dear Concerned,

Recreational drug use among pets is a very real problem which has only gotten worse over the past several years. Most people are shocked to find out that their mild mannered pet by day is a party animal by night. Most of the pet drug abuse we hear about here at “WhyIShootStuff” is from pets that “know better” and come from "good homes".

I can vividly remember a similar experience with my cat Joey. I began suspecting drug use when I noticed that some of the other cats Joey chose to associate with had bloodshot eyes and smelled of Boone’s Farm. What I found out later was that Joy was already a full-fledged reefer addict, and it was going to get a whole lot worse before it began to get better.

During the time I went through this ordeal, there were nights when I thought I’d lose her. I’ll share a few entries from my personal diary, taken from the worst part of Joey’s drug use.

Thursday, October 1, 2004, 4:00 a.m. –
“Awoke to the smell of burning grass. Burning grass?! JOEY!”
Tuesday November 13, 2004, 2:30 a.m. –
“Awoke to the sound of car keys jingling. Got out of bed and caught Joey trying to get outside, presumably to take my truck for another joy ride.”
Sunday, December 11, 2004, 2:00 p.m. –
“Football game on TV interrupted by sounds of pots and pans in kitchen. Apparently Joey needed to make brownies.”
Friday, January 15, 2005, 5:30 p.m. –
“Decided to get milk at store. When I arrived at the counter with my jug of milk, I was surprised to find that I didn’t have any money in my wallet. Tell-tale scratches on leather of wallet mean only one thing.”

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not going to tell you it was easy, but with patience, perseverance and a lot of catnip, Joey turned herself around. Before Joey’s recent (and untimely) demise she was a regular at the soup kitchen in town, where she volunteered. She gave lectures on pet drug abuse and mentored several neighborhood kittens.

My advice to you is to seek professional help. And remember; get between your pet and his druggie friends. If you have to, be willing to put yourself between your pet and an automobile (unless he’s high and already in gear. Then you should probably just get out of the way).

(We encourage you to submit your questions to the editors. A few lucky individuals will see their query here, in the files of “Mail Bag”)

By File Boy

A word about the author

D.Tkon:

Thinks Farts and anything to do with them are the funniest things in the world.

Needs professional help on a regular basis.

Doesn’t want to cause anyone pain, but will laugh his ass off if you hurt yourself.

Owns every SpongeBob DVD and saw the movie.

Fired his family of origin years ago at the behest of his brilliant therapist and now works alone and likes it that way.

Took a crap on the side of a major highway in broad-daylight because the alternative was worse (and laughed like a mental patient for the next hour).

Wants the following to happen when he dies: Wrap him in a plain white shroud (no clothes) and burry him in a plain wood box (no nails, no hinges, no pillow). Place his entire Calvin and Hobbs comic book collection in the box with him. At the funeral, play Mozart’s Requiem Mass (Choral Arr.) as loud as tolerable. No eulogy. Crying optional.

Believes he hears the voice of God Almighty between and among the notes of some of the most outstanding musical compositions ever penned and weeps unabashedly while listening to this music by himself.

Is confused, because sometimes he cries when he listens to shitty music as well and doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

Wishes he was a poet all of the time, not just when nobody is looking.

Loves cats, likes dogs, hates fish, unless fried or grilled with a little lemon and dill.

Never wants to go back.

Has only one true dear friend and is content with that.

K-Fed: 'If you want to hate me, cool, hate me'. America: No Problem you ass-wipe

NEW YORK (AP) -- Kevin Federline, aka K-Fed and Mr. Britney Spears, says he shrugs off his naysayers.

"If you want to hate me, cool, hate me," Federline, 28, said recently in an interview.

“Cool, said America, we want you to be dragged through the streets, tarred and feathered, drawn and quartered and then lit on fire”.

Federline, an aspiring rapper, has been aggressively promoting his debut album, "Playing With Fire," set for release October 31. Amid a chorus of boos, he was body-slammed by wrestler John Cena in an October 16 appearance on USA Network's "WWE Monday Night Raw." And don't forget his panned performance at this year's Teen Choice Awards.

"I know who I am," says Federline, who promises the album will show his "edgy side”. The pampered sissy was interviewed from his wife’s Beverly Hills mansion.

Last month, he portrayed an arrogant teen on CBS' "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation."

“Wow, you playing an arrogant teen must have been a real stretch” America collectively opined after his shitty show aired.

"I shocked myself," he tells People. "There were parts that I wish I would have done different, but there are parts that really took me, like, 'Wow, did I do that?' I looked at myself and I was like, 'It looked good. It looked perfect."'

America: “Dear Jesus, sometimes we have sinned or done bad things. But, dear Jesus Christ, if you could just answer one prayer, we bow our heads and pray that you would allow K-Fed to go ahead and shock himself literally. Jesus, maybe he’ll just have an unfortunate toaster/bathtub incident? Perhaps a bobby pin/outlet accident? Whatever you can do Lord, Amen”.

Spears, 24, and Federline were married in September 2004. They have two sons, Sean Preston, 1, and a son born September 12, whose name was revealed to be Jayden James. The couple has not confirmed the name.

Federline also has two children from a previous relationship.

America: “That comes as a total shock. Children with another baby momma? Holy shit, I didn’t see that one coming”.

"It's just time to get my stuff down while they're young, so I can sit back and watch them grow up," he says.

America: “I’m speechless”.

by File Boy

Borrowed from The Onion 10/26/06
Bush Urges Nation To Be Quiet For A Minute While He Tries To Think

WASHINGTON, DC—In a nationally televised address Monday, President Bush urged all citizens, regardless of race, creed, color, or political affiliation, "to quiet down for just one minute" so he could have "a chance to think."

In a televised address to the nation, Bush called for "a little peace and quiet." "Every American has an inalienable right to free speech and self-expression," Bush said. "Nonetheless, I call upon the American people to hold off on it for, say, 60 seconds. Just long enough for me to get this all sorted out in my head."
"Please," Bush added.

While the president said achieving a unilateral peace and quiet "would not be easy," he hoped that citizens would respect his wish and work toward a temporary cease-talk so that he could can hear his own thoughts "for once."

"Make no mistake: It will take patience and sacrifice," Bush said. "But such drastic measures could lead to a better tomorrow for all of us, especially for your commander in chief."
Bush then closed his speech by exhaling sharply, tightly closing his eyes, and massaging his temples. "I just—Christ, I just need a goddamn minute, you know?" he said. Click here for Full Onion Article

Poll: Most feel civil liberties not harmed by war on terror, would enjoy further restrictions on freedom, would favor re-coining the term to “costdom”

(CNN) -- Most Americans do not believe the Bush administration has gone far enough in restricting civil liberties as part of the war on terror, a new CNN poll released Thursday suggests.

While the majority of those polled felt that the Bush administration had taken some significant steps towards restricting freedom, most felt that he could do more. “I’d like to see my property taken away from me” said Dwight Preston, “costdom” advocate.

A Minority of those polled felt that the Bush administration has gone too far, but pollsters argue that the 4% who responded in this manner can be ignored since they represent a statistical anomaly. Joanne Kilpatrick of the Marist College Poll explained, “We have a plus or minus 3% on these polls, so the 4% minority in this instance really equates to 1%, and we feel that one percent can be chalked up to retarded Americans who just don’t get it”.

Asked whether Bush has enough power, 85% of poll respondents said no. “I can’t see him doing anything like jumping over buildings or stopping speeding trains, so I’d say he could use more powers” said Michael Senick of Baltimore.

Ninety-three percent of respondents said that they believe America would be safer with Bush in office for a third term. “That’s how the Jacob family is voting come November” said a confused Jeremy Jacob of Parkersburg, WV. When informed that elections were not going to be held until 2008, Jeremy responded, “That’s how the Jacob family is voting in November”.

The telephone poll was conducted October 20-22. The sampling error was plus or minus 3 percentage points for questions asked of the full sample population.

Editors Note: If you do a search on Google for idiot, the picture above can be found. Really.

TRENTON, N.J. -- New Jersey's Supreme Court has ruled queer couples are entitled to the same rights as straights in the state of New Jersey, but lawmakers must determine whether the state will honor the relationship as a marriage or call it some other form of civil union.

The court's 4-to-3 ruling comes in the case of seven queer couples (total of 14 queers). They argued the state constitution protected the rights of gays to be joined in marriage. But the high court stopped short of fully approving queer marriage in the state, stating, no one should approve of a marriage, queer or otherwise. The court gave lawmakers 180 days to rewrite marriage laws to either include queer couples or create new civil unions. "The issue is not about the transformation of the traditional definition of marriage, but about the rights of queers and fags to get married and be miserable like the rest of us," the court said in its surprisingly candid ruling.

Many queers were seen sobbing and caressing other queers on the steps of the New Jersey court. One queer was overheard to say, “Oh, Jethus Christh”.

While New Jersey lawmakers voted to allow domestic partnerships in 2004, they have been reluctant to delve into the sensitive issue of marriage (however, delving reached a feverish pitch behind the courthouse today). The partnerships offer gays benefits including the ability to visit a companion in the hospital, inherit their possessions if no will has been crafted, and healthcare coverage for state workers.

People on both sides of the issue expected a victory for same-sex unions would make New Jersey a destination for gay couples from around the country who want to get married.

“What do we want?” a woman yelled through a megaphone. “More same sex marriage unions in this great country of ours because it should be protected by our constitutional rights as citizens and tax-paying, gainfully employed Americans,” the winded crowd replied.

Another Garden State resident voiced his opinion. “Whether it be same sex or different sex partners, I think it’s their right,” Charles Maimone of Cherry Hill said. “And well, I hope that’s the way it turns out.” Charles Maimone is a gay.

Some on the other side of the argument also recently made their views public outside of the Trenton state compound. Some cried, some prayed and others stood silently, holding signs and each other, as they publicly opposed the idea of same-sex marriage. “That’s not the way it was intended to be,” sobbed Bob Bertsch of Cherry Hill. “I think it’s breaking us all down and I’m against it.” Bob Bertsch is also a gay, though he is still in the closet and regularly attends protests.

Conservatives watching the cases believe the best chance for gay marriage to be allowed would be in New Jersey, where the state’s citizens prefer gays to “straights”.

by File Boy

Winter 2006-2007 Long Range Forecasts

Several meteorological outlets have released their long range predictions for this upcoming winter. According to Accuweather, (Accuweather 2006-2007 forecast) if you live in the middle atlantic say, you should expect a colder than average winter with more precipitation. This forecast was prepared by Joe Bastardi, who is well-known for his eagerness to make big predictions, seasons ahead. If you take this forecast literally, you should expect a snowy winter here.

NOAA has also released their long range winter 2006-2007 forecast (NOAA Long Range Outlook ) for the country. Their outlook indicates that the middle atlantic will be warmer than normal, with equal chances of more precipitation and less precipitation. Way to go out on a limb guys. But, taken literally, that means a warmer winter for our area.

So who's right? The problem with long range predictions is that it is not possible to make reliable predictions beyond 5, maybe 6 days in advance. A prediction for an entire season is akin to witchcraftic soothsaying, and mostly a way for forecasters to increase ratings. If you hear that a particular news outlet will be airing their "winter forecast", you tune in to see what they'll have to say. And, if you're like me, you pay more attention to the outlets predicting more snow. The same is true of individual storm predictions. When Hurricane Schwartz says we're going to get 10 inches, but Rob Guarino predicts 12, you quote Rob to your friends ("I hear we're going to get a foot of snow tonight!").

I hope that Accuweather is correct and that we have a snowy winter. I enjoy the snow, and oftentimes parlay a snowfall into a day off. "Yeah, I'm looking out the window right now and the snow is drifting over 3 inches in some areas of my driveway. I just don't think its a good idea to try to make the drive in today, boss". Then I take my 4-wheel drive truck out onto the roads for all of the things I'll need to enjoy my day off. Let's see, case of beer, pizza, ooh and I need to go to the post office to mail this bill, and I'd better stop over at my friend's house, just to make sure they're ok...

Fox29 is going to be airing their long range forecast on November 6th. I hope Rob G. doesn't let us down. C'mon snowy winter!

by File Boy

DEATH ROW WEDNESDAY

Death Row Wednesday is a new weekly post that explores the macabre issue of Capital Punishment – not in terms of thumbs up or thumbs down, but rather, what would you choose for your last meal if you found yourself on death’s door?

You’re invited to post a comment consistent with the theme of the week. So this week be sure to tell us what you would want to be on your plate if you were about to meet your fate! For inspiration, you can check out some famous last meals enjoyed by some notorious criminals. My favorite is “A single olive.” You’ve got to love a guy who’s watching his cholesterol AND his weight while on death row! (If you can't get enough of this - click here Texas Inmate last meals .)

One of the funniest last meals was consumed by Leon Jerome Moser: He ate A large cheese pizza, cheese slices, cold cuts, pasta salad, iced cup cakes and a 2-litre bottle of Coca-Cola. The ensuing belch killed two of his jailors and disabled a third, allowing Moser to escape. He was immediately apprehended twelve hundred feet from the prison. Moser was holed up in the mens-room stall at the local Gas-n-Go. Apparently, the eppicurian combination produced a lethal amount of intestinal gas. Prison guards broke down the door after repeated calls for surrender went unanswered. Moser had expired in his own impromtu gas-chamber. Several guards were overcome by fumes – one succumbed to his injuries. Consequently, the above menu items were removed from the “last meal” menu.

For my last meal, I think I'd swallow a bottle of Ritalin and a triple espresso from Starbucks. However, presuming we'd have a little trouble getting Warden approval, I'd probably go with my second choice – two hotdogs (from the closest ballpark) with French’s yellow mustard, a plate of lasagna, and a wheelbarrow full of Brewster’s butter pecan ice cream.

Also, we will spotlight one current death row inmate each week, either because he is funny looking or has achieved notoriety because of the facts earning him a spot on death row.

This week’s winner satisfied both criteria. Christopher Jay Swift is currently sitting on Texas’ Death Row. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice summarizes his shenanigans as follows:

On 4/29/2003 in Denton County, Texas, Swift killed his wife, a twenty-nine year old white female, by strangling her with his hands and striking her in the face with his fist approximately five times. Swift also killed his mother-in-law by strangling her with his hands.

I don’t know what to say . . . Somehow this makes sense to me.

Here’s an interesting fact --

Lethal Injection Consists Of:
Sodium Thiopental (lethal dose - sedates person)
Pancuronium Bromide (muscle relaxant-collapses diaphragm and lungs)
Potassium Chloride (stops heart beat)
The offender is usually pronounced dead approximately 7 minutes after the lethal injection begins.
Cost per execution for drugs used : $86.08

The problem is only 63% is covered by insurance.

By D.Tkon

File Boy-

An almost mythical figure, considered by many to be the best collater, stapler and copier for the price. Known to have filed 1,257 pages in one day, all while listening to Howard Stern on his walkman and ignoring the file room phone.

He developed an almost uncanny ability to detect stupidity in others during his years in the file room. He once made a co-worker cry when she overheard him describe her as "custodial" and opined that "they ought to prop her up in a wine barrel".

He enjoys ridicule, parody and hyperbole, though often he has been the brunt of said ridicule, parody and hyperbole. Pushes the envelope of intelligence by hopelessly clinging to his radical right-wing ideology.

He fights for his right to bear arms, though he considers the pen mightier than the sword. He likens his membership in this blog to be his membership in a not-so-well regulated militia of thought. He stands ready to mock, trash and rag-on anyone who shows weakness.

File Boy, is there any line he won't cross? Is there any challenge he won't surmount?

Why does File Boy shoot stuff? Because you gotta shoot something.

by File Boy

Some Unknown Facts about Chuck Norris:

1. If you rearrange the letters in "Chuck Norris", they also spell "Crush Rock In". The words "with his fists" are understood.
2. 
   Never look a gift Chuck Norris in the mouth, because he will bite your damn eyes off.
3. 
   Give a man a fish, and you will feed him for a day. Give a man anything that is better than a fish, and Chuck Norris will beat his ass and take it.
4. 
   Chuck Norris used to play baseball. When Babe Ruth was hailed as the better player, Chuck Norris killed him with a baseball bat to the throat. Lou Gehrig got off easy.

For more Chuck Norris Facts, go here:

http://www.chucknorrisfacts.com/page1.html

by File Boy

The Dialectizer -

Its great. I don't remember how I found it, but if you need to fritter-away 8 hours of your day on a daily basis like I do, you'll enjoy it.

Choose a dialect, paste in a web address and the dialectizer will convert that page into a new dialect. Or you can simply type in some words and the dialectizer will convert them to your favorite dialect. You can choose from Redneck, Jive, Cockney, Elmer Fudd, The Swedish Chef (One-a ooff my fefureetes!), Moron, Pig Latin and More!

Go there now!

http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/

3 outta 5 shotgun shells

by File Boy

A Cat Runs Through It...

Yesterday I went home after work and took a walk around my property with my dog. The yard was covered in leaves. The wind was blowing and I could detect that smell of winter in the air. The clouds hung low in the sky and I saw virga etching the gray sky above, a presage of colder and snowier times to come.

I didn't let the dog off of her leash yesterday, though my custom is to allow her to run around the yard while I'm outside. I guess I didn't want to chance her running over to the neighbors for a nap behind his stupid f_cking shooting range.

I didn't want to do any yard work. So I decided to take the dog for a walk down the road. I think I took that walk for lack of anything else to do.

She tugged on her leash and pulled me forward down the lonely country road from which my driveway diverts. We crossed a small one-lane bridge overlooking a murky creek. The water was black and looked cold. I listened to the water gurgling in its path to bigger waters and thought about the detritus floating by. Those leaves, helpless to change course, floating towards another water, and another.

My dog and I walked further down the road, and came upon an overgrown field. The field was converting into a young set of woods, mostly new growth and scrub bushes. The land was choked with sweet gums, briars and weeds. No tree was taller than 15 feet. I heard something in the brush, apparently something scared by my approach. My dog was instantly quiet and we both watched the small trees and bushes bending as the animal made its escape. I wondered if it was a deer. I thought about how happy my dog was to be out with me, in these surroundings. She wasn't sad at all about Joey dying. The only thought on her mind was getting off the leash and chasing that animal in the brush.

We continued down the road a little further, then not seeing any reason to continue, I decided to turn around and head home.

Before I reached my driveway, I passed my neighbors house. I sheepishly glanced at his home. I was half afraid that I'd see my neighbor, and then I'd have to talk to him about the cat shooting incident. I am still not sure what I'll say to him when I see him. I don't want to see him.

The dog and I got to our house and went inside. I took her leash off and felt a minor blush of humilation when I saw my girlfriend, who could tell from looking at me that I hadn't yet talked to my neighbor.

I built a fire in the wood stove. I sat on the couch and looked at the fire dancing behind the sooty glass panes on the stove's doors. I remembered seeing Joey next to the wood stove so much last year that she seemed to be a permanent fixture there. I thought that maybe tomorrow I'd give some thought to getting a new kitten. An inside kitten.

by: File Boy

And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

Dubbya Attempt at Humor

Today's CNN Headline reads, General: Iraq may control security in a year
Unfortunately, they forgot to mention which year. Turns out the year is 2097.

Apparently, this Iraqi solider left his gloves and snowboard on the back seat of his car. Looks like he'll have to settle for some choice waves instead.

BREAKING
NEWS . . . .

This just in from our Washington correspondent, Seymour Krahp: President Bush has, this afternoon, just returned from a secret mid-east high-level conference where he was rumored to be conferring with top-level Cabinet Officials and Generals, for purposes of redrafting middle-east policy. The above photo was snapped as President Bush waved to his top aid for homeland security, Farouk-Al-Masood.

News Anchor: d.kton

What is Undifferentiated Meat? Ask the Meat-Jet Printer people.

http://www.worldchanging.com/archives/003067.html

by File Boy

2.5 out of 5 shells

The Best of Times, the Worst of Times...

As I sit here at work in my cubicle I can hear other people talk and gossip, and generally pass the day doing as little work as possible. Since I can hear them talking, on the phone and to each other, I wonder if they can hear me.

I wonder what they thought this morning when I was on the phone with my friend describing my weekend. This weekend was the best weekend, up until about Saturday at noon, at which point it quickly went to the worst weekend in recent memory.

On Thursday I celebrated a birthday, and a two-year anniversary with my girlfriend (our first date was two years ago on my birthday). I took off a day of work on Friday so I could go hunting. Its doe season here, and I like to put meat in the freezer every year, if I can.

Friday was great. I was alone in the woods, in a treestand, and I was thinking about how I was going to post a blog here on Monday and how funny it was going to be. As I sat there I replayed the various times this fall that I had been deer hunting, and what had happened each time. Only two weeks ago I was in a tree stand and a deer came running in. It was as good as in the freezer, until I saw two more behind it. They were smaller, and obviously were this doe's fawns. So I didn't shoot, and just watched them ambulate through the woods, only feet away, unaware of the danger they had narrowly escaped. I was jerked back into reality at around 7:30 in the morning, as I noticed a doe walking towards me. She was alone. I quickly decided to take her, so I took one shot, and she only ran about 10 paces and then dropped. She expired seconds later.

At any rate, like I said, it was shaping up to be a great weekend. An hour later I saw four more deer, and since I knew I already had one, I just watched them eat and walk away. It was peaceful and beautiful.

On Saturday I decided I'd go back and hunt again. Really, I was unsure if I'd shoot another deer, but thought that since I'd probably want to be able to give some deer meat away, that I would shoot another one, if the opportunity presented itself.

I didn't see any deer, so I went home. I decided to do some yard work, and while I was outside, I heard my neighbor shoot a gun. He has a shooting range, and owns a farm, and is a CIA or FBI type. Not really sure, but he works for the U. S. Gov't. and certifies other agents on his shooting range. I heard him take a second shot (sounded like a handgun). Then I heard him start swearing. I heard him say, "Oh sh_t! F_ck! Oh God." Then I heard him whistle. I wondered if he cut himself, or worse yet, had he shot himself? I looked through the trees that separate my property and his, and saw him take his dog inside, both appeared to be fine.

An hour went by, and then I heard my cat, Joey crying. I walked around the side of the house and saw her walking towards me. She seemed to have something wrong with her leg. I picked her up and saw that she had been shot. I pieced it together in my mind as I ran inside to call the Vet. She must have been sitting behind one of the wooden targets at my neighbor's house when he shot her. Since he and I are friends and he is an animal lover, I know he didn't do it on purpose.

I rushed Joey to the Vet ER and was given the options. First, we had her placed on morphine and other pain killers. Then we talked about amputation, and her chances of survival. I had tears in my eyes and thought about how I had let her go outside that morning. Why did I let her go outside?

The doctor told me to go home, call someone if I needed to, think about it, and then call back with my decision. I decided to have her put to sleep.

On Sunday I went to the Vet and they gave her to me. I buried her in my backyard with a few toys that she didn't care about while she was alive, but that made me feel better.

Today I'm sitting here thinking about my cat and I'm wondering if I'll ever want to go hunting again.

by: File Boy

Back! Back! Back! We're Out Of Here!!










No cheeky descriptions of America's sport are necessary. Baseball rocks. Its fanatics know why. And this is our month. The World title is on the line and over the past five or so years, October has belonged to the underdog. Every year another Cinderella story unfolds and invariably we all cheer (well most of us) for the little guy. We do it because its in our blood and its good for the psyche. We love to hate Goliath and cheer his demise - especially when Goliath wears a Yankee's uniform.

My favorite team is whoever is playing the Yankees and this year I'm cheering for the Tigers (who isn't?) Its amazing that America's team with their 200+ million dollar payroll can't capture a World title. Year after year underdogs band together to wipe those smug looks off A-Rod's and Jeter's faces. The team of unlimited resources and talent can't get the job done when it needs getting done most. No amount of money can buy a team a win - especially when it needs it. What puts runs on the board isn't dollar signs and talent, its guts, passion and a need to win that is greater than the other team's desire. What's wrong with the Yankees it seems is what is wrong with America. I'm afraid the smug look has been wiped clean off all of our faces.

Unlimited talent, the richest country in the world, enough resources to win a dozen wars - but no desire to win this year, or last year, or the year before that. I don't blame America for wanting revenge following the 9/11 disaster. Who can? But exacting revenge and winning a war against a nation of 25 million people are two different things. America clearly has the means to get the job done in Iraq but it never had the desire. Whatever substitute for desire brought us there has faded. Its time to get off the field and go home.

The Yankees need a new manager. America needs a new direction. We've taken our eye off the ball, and with disastrous consequences.

by D. Tkon

Sick Of All This BUSHIT

I don't consider myself an angry person. I'm easy-going to a fault. I meditate, write poetry and listen to classical music. I send my mother flowers on Mother's Day, and my father is alive today because I forgave him before I killed him.

George Bush makes me apoplectic. Just mention his name and I reach escape velocity in two seconds. I can't take it anymore - his face, his voice, his laugh, his party, his policies. Nothing anyone can say 'bout dubbya will ever seriously add to the universe of ill will already created by this man. Nonetheless, it is still worth noting that Bush's defecation on the American people has been far more detrimental to the spirit of this great nation than all of the evil he set out to conquer.

And like every other god-damn politician, we're always left holding the bag.

ap·o·plec·tic - adj. 1: Affected with, inclined to, or showing symptoms of stroke; 2: Extremely angry; furious; 3: Pertaining to or characteristic of apoplexy; "apoplectic seizure".

by D. Tkon

Too Much Fresh Air . . .

OK, so I was doing a little surfing on the web looking for info on my favorite State of Delaware forest. Under Blackbird, I found this link:

http://caer-adamant.org/pdfs/newsletter.pdf

This is the newsletter for a group of deuschbags who get together to re-enact medieval non-sense. As far as I can tell, there are 8 officers in the Caer-Adamant group. The link above is their newsletter, which serves as a notice to would-be renaissancers that they have held their dorky elections and named their officers. To all those who have pined away wishing to be the chancellor of the exchequer, sorry, Caer Adamant already has one.

This group of ding bats gets together in period dress and pretends to be living in the middle ages. Of course they all drive their cars down to this shitty farm near where I live and then get out their stupid accoutrements and throw stuff around at each other. No really, they throw axes and pretend to joust. Then they call each other by arcane names and prance around and practice their buffoonery.

If you've ever wondered what happened to those kids in school that you beat up, gave swirlies to, and stuffed in lockers, they're all still alive and well, in period dress.

You could lose yourself in the pages of this horse shit, trust me. But if you're on the fence about whether or not to open that link, I think the following notice from their newsletter sums it up nicely:

Next Meeting: The next Shire meeting will be Tuesday, October 17, at Baroness Valentina’s NEW house. Letters of Intent for upcoming Officer Elections DUE!

Maybe that's not enough to pique your interest. Try this on for size:

"Also, this is a reminder that Letters of Intent for the offices of Seneschal, Exchequer, Chatelaine, Herald, Minister of Arts and Sciences,Knight Marshall and Chronicler are due to me prior to the start of the the Shire Meeting on October 17"

faggots.

3.25 out of 5 shotgun shells

by: File Boy

The Only Stupid Question Is The One You Don't Ask . . .

Here's a doctor with a sense of humor. I can't tell if he loves his job or hates it. People send him e-mails asking him if he thinks they'll catch AIDS because of some stupid behavior. The questions posted at the doctor's website may be from some of the dumbest people on the planet. Thank God for natural selection.

Click on this ---> http://qa.hopkins-aids.edu/forum/list_questions.html?section_id=61&category_id=88

3 outta 5 Shotgun Shells.

by D. Tkon