Have You Kissed Your Wyoming Man Today?


You might not want to after you read this.

On June 29, 2011, the Wyoming Department of Health was notified of two laboratory-confirmed cases of Campylobacter jejuni enteritis among persons working at a local sheep ranch. During June, two men had reported onset of symptoms compatible with campylobacteriosis. Both patients had diarrhea, and one also had abdominal cramps, fever, nausea, and vomiting. One patient was hospitalized for 1 day. Both patients recovered without sequelae. During June, both patients had participated in a multiday event to castrate and dock tails of 1,600 lambs. Both men reported having used their teeth to castrate some of the lambs. Among the 12 persons who participated in the event, the patients are the only two known to have used their teeth to castrate lambs. During the multiday event, a few lambs reportedly had a mild diarrheal illness. Neither patient with laboratory-confirmed illness reported consumption of poultry or unpasteurized dairy products, which are common sources of exposure to C. jejuni (1). The patients resided in separate houses and did not share food or water; none of their contacts became ill.

Just for those of you who are having trouble comprehending this… These men got sick, because they were chewing lamb balls off with their teeth!

With. Their. Teeth.

So next time you have a hot date in Wyoming, think twice about that kiss “goodnight” at your door.  Or at any point in the future. Or really about ever dating a man from Wyoming. Ever.

h/t: Dr. Grumpy



It’s a Sunday. It’s a beautiful fall day in Arlington. Rob and I just got back from a wonderful brunch and a matinee showing of Immortals. Nothing in the world could disturb my peace.

Except this

Oneal Ron Morris, 30, was arrested Friday after an investigation by Miami Gardens Police and the Florida Department of Health.

According to police, the victim saw Morris in May and was injected in her buttocks with a substance consisting of cement, “Fix a Flat,” mineral oil and super glue.

I understand the desire to improve your shape. Squats, running, dance…

But Fix a Flat??


Super glue???

Carry on!



This would just be another story about a sex offender arrested in Oregon.

She was arrested for failure to comply with the Iowa sex-offender registry. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except one thing…

They claim this is a woman.


You’re welcome.

Most. Unappetizing. Visual. Evah.


If you ever want to make me hurl the Cheez-Its I consumed for lunch today, just mention the sight of Rahm Emanuel, nekkid, pasty, dangly bits flopping around in indignation… in the shower with Congressman Eric Massa.

Rep. Massa describes a confrontation with Emanuel in a shower: “I am
showering, naked as a jaybird, and here comes Rahm Emanuel, not even
with a towel wrapped around his tush, poking his finger in my chest,
yelling at me.”

Video is there too.  Not of the shower scene… oh God no!!!  Just of Massa describing the shower scene.

I think I’d rather watch Ned Beatty get violated by a bunch of inbred rednecks in Deliverance over and over again.

Pass. The. Brain. Bleach.

A few thoughts on the Crotchbomber (WITH VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE)


I just saw the ABC news photo of the Crotchbomber’s explosive panties, and it really started my mind working. It’s a quite feminine pair of panties with an explosive packet sewn into the crotch.  INTO THE CROTCH, PEOPLE!!!  How unhinged do you have to be to wake up one morning and go, “Hmmmm…. gee…. I think killing Americans is MUCH more important than my penis!  I think I’ll set it on fire in the name of Allah!”

What. The. Fuck.

This Nigerian assflake was actually fanatical enough to concede to blowing up his own nuts in an effort to kill a few Americans on a plane!  He either values his manhood very little (quite obvious by the fact that the cowardly sow humper committed himself to killing innocent civilians, including children), or he’d overslept on his way to the airport and his suppliers all ran out of suicide belts leaving him with the choice of exploding panties, or a dynamite dildo.  Maybe he thinks his junk will be restored in heaven just in time to hump his 72 virgins.  I don’t know.  All I know is that if I were a man, there is nothing in this world I’d hate strongly enough to blow up my own crotch!

I hear guys are really attached to their little friend!

I’m a pretty passionate person.  I’m emotional.  And yes, sometimes irrationally so… but I tell you one thing: There is NOTHING in this world that I’m so passionate about that I would set my junk on fire!  NOTHING.

There is nothing in this world that would prompt me to blow up my own genitals.

Maybe I’m just not that passionate. Maybe I’m not a true believer. Maybe true believers honestly think their penis will be magically regrown in heaven. Maybe their version of heaven is littered with unused penises and sets of testicles just waiting to be picked off ripe trees and reattached to their burned genital region with Allah’s Krazy Glue.

But you know what?  I’m not willing to take that chance!


Well, boys and girls… now we know why the Crotchbomber decided to set his winky on fire on that fateful Christmas day.  He was apparently lonely and misunderstood.

Those posts, beginning in 2005, show a teenager looking for a new life outside his boarding school and wealthy Nigerian family.

Most of all, they paint a portrait of someone who seems lost and needs someone to hear him.

Thepostings seem hastily written and are replete with spelling and grammarerrors. In one, on Jan 28. 2005, he wrote: “i am in a situation where ido not have a friend, i have no one to speak too, no one to consult, noone to support me and i feel depressed and lonely. i do not know whatto do.”

Hmmmmm.  Yes.  That’s exactly what you need to do when you’re feeling down in the dumps. Don an explosive panty liner and set your own genitals on fire.  That’ll fix all your problems!  Maybe Kotex can start a brand new line for the depressed Jihadist: The Missile Maxi!

Things you never, EVER want to read in a newspaper

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Every once in a while, I’ll troll the Internet for things to amuse me while I hang around the house alone, waiting for the munchkins to return from their various adventures in the neighborhood.  I’ll generally unwind from a long day by searching for funny stories.

And then I run across something like this, and I keep wondering what the writer had to be thinking when he wrote this:

“He volunteered to police that he had a stick and a
torch inserted in his anus for sexual gratification. He had inserted it
because he was depressed.”

For those of you who don’t know, a torch is a flashlight.  This numbskull had a flashlight up his ass.  Apparently he had a case of the blues and thought that inserting a foreign object into his anus would cure the problem.

I remember watching a video of a newscaster when I was in broadcast journalism school, trying to keep a straight face while reporting on the Lorena Bobbitt story.  I remember thinking I’d never be that unprofessional when reporting on a legitimate news story.

And then, several years later, I had to interview Charlie Dick, the late Patsy Cline’s second husband.

And when your morning show co-host is just as much of an immature jackass as you are, your segment turns out to be a complete disaster!

So I can’t help but wonder what the writer had to be thinking when writing a paragraph that involved the words “inserted,” “torch,” and “anus.”  I’m betting he was chuckling for a while.

But hey – at least he wasn’t live on the air with thousands of listeners realizing that their morning show co-host is a complete asshat.

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