Archive for March, 2011
Hey hey Bronxers!
Listen … umm, if you just happen to run across, you know, a venomous Egyptian cobra or anything, the fine folks over at the Bronx Zoo would like a moment of your time.
I mean, like, you know, don’t worry or anything.
I’m sure it’s no big deal.
Probably happens all the time, right?
But, just in case you want to call America’s Most Wanted or plaster your neighborhood with ‘Missing’ posters or anything, it might be just the slightest bit useful to mention that Egyptian cobras aren’t even the teensiest bit afraid of us human types, can swim, and – as an added bonus — are often found in people’s homes!
But hey, don’t worry or anything.
Their venom is primarily neurotoxic, so if you do surprise the cuddly cobra hiding in your downstairs closet and it happens to attack you or anything, the worst that could possibly happen would be, you know, like, a total work stoppage by the old heart and lungs, resulting in, you know, like death and stuff.
But no biggie!
Zoo officials say they’re WAY confident Ol’ Coby’s 20 kinds of contained in a nonpublic, isolated area of the building.
Unless he’s, like, you know, not ‘n stuff.
Enjoy your day!
If I were interested in getting back into the *wheeze* *sputter* *cough* DYING world of newspapery, I would seriously consider working for this guy!!
Awesome ad in 3 … 2 …
We want to add some talent to the Sarasota Herald-Tribune investigative team. Every serious candidate should have a proven track record of conceiving, reporting and writing stellar investigative pieces that provoke change. However, our ideal candidate has also cursed out an editor, had spokespeople hang up on them in anger and threatened to resign at least once because some fool wanted to screw around with their perfect lede.
We do a mix of quick hit investigative work when events call for it and mini-projects that might run for a few days. But every year we like to put together a project way too ambitious for a paper our size because we dream that one day Walt Bogdanich will have to say: “I can’t believe the Sarasota Whatever-Tribune cost me my 20th Pulitzer.” As many of you already know, those kinds of projects can be hellish, soul-sucking, doubt-inducing affairs. But if you’re the type of sicko who likes holing up in a tiny, closed office with reporters of questionable hygiene to build databases from scratch by hand-entering thousands of pages of documents to take on powerful people and institutions that wish you were dead, all for the glorious reward of having readers pick up the paper and glance at your potential prize-winning epic as they flip their way to the Jumble… well, if that sounds like journalism Heaven, then you’re our kind of sicko.
For those unaware of Florida’s reputation, it’s arguably the best news state in the country and not just because of the great public records laws. We have all kinds of corruption, violence and scumbaggery. The 9/11 terrorists trained here. Bush read My Pet Goat here. Our elections are colossal clusterfucks. Our new governor once ran a health care company that got hit with a record fine because of rampant Medicare fraud. We have hurricanes, wildfires, tar balls, bedbugs, diseased citrus trees and an entire town overrun by giant roaches (only one of those things is made up). And we have Disney World and beaches, so bring the whole family.
Send questions, or a resume/cover letter/links to clips to my email address below. If you already have your dream job, please pass this along to someone whose skills you covet. Thanks.
1741 Main St.
Sarasota FL, 34236
If this does’t make you want to freebase gravy and make sweet sweet love to a Hardee’s Bacon Double Thickburger, then I don’t know what will because Arizonian Kelly Gneiting is bringing the chunk and living the dream!
The three-time American sumo wrestling champion made history this weekend when he broke the Guinness World Record for Heaviest Person to Complete a Marathon.
::: in other news, there is an American sumo wrestling champion :::
Gneiting – who refers to himself the ‘Fat Man’ – weighed a whopping 1600 Quarter Pounders when he started the Los Angeles Marathon yesterday.
While we were all watching our Brackets go BUST (sidenote: F-U, ‘Cuse! 😦 ), the 40-year-old, six-foot flabmaster battled driving rains, sore feet and what I can only imagine was the most super-serious nipple ouch EVAR before he crossed the finish line in 9 hours, 48 minutes and 42 seconds – beating his 2008 record of 11:52:11 when he weighed a not-so-supersized 275 pounds.
After the race, a breathless Gneiting told the Los Angeles Times: ‘I’d like to see the Kenyan improve his marathon time by two hours.’
Dude is nothing short of a modern-day medical MIRACLE of moundish massiveness!
I love him!
‘Big people can do the imaginable.’
StudCornmuffin’s gonna follow up his marathon mastery by hiking from the Dead Sea to Mount Everest and swimming the English Channel.
And, because I am now an admirer of the adipocerous athlete, I have just two words if he’s reading – You Tube!
Maybe if it was called something other than a “Call 2 Fall” …
Maybe if it was just positioned slightly differently …
Maybe if it wasn’t sponsored by the gay-bashing Family Reasearch Council …
Maybe if all that were different then maybe my eyes wouldn’t automatically interpret that dude as being in the perfect position to perform some pretty impious yet positively pornographic oral on the Prime Mover himself.
But, hey, maybe it’s just me.
Because I didn’t inform you of my plans beforehand …
Because I didn’t seek your approval of my personal agenda …
Because I took just the smallest smidge of a break for Spring Training baseball with a VIP whose name I won’t mention but whose initials are D.A.D. 😉 …
Because I did that, I got this:
‘This seven-day-old Cookie is getting STALE!’
::: Hey! Careful with the caps there, chickie! :::
‘Come on it is getting to be quite some time!’
::: Want some cheese with that whine?! :::
‘I have needs darn it!’
::: OMG PPL – no pressure or anything!! :::
But, because I admit it was a fo-sho reality that pressing professionl matters last year
necessitated compelled FORCED me to take a powder from this little digital masterpiece mess for a extensive string of consecutive calendar dates that resulted in this being the most consistently inconsistently consistent collection of blah blah lately, I guess I can understand the frustration.
If I get drunk and stand in my living room on one foot with my head cocked to the right while exhaling in short snaps through lips pursed into a little round O shape as I slap myself in the face.
I think if I do that I could maybe sort of understand a little why anyone who’s read this rag wouldn’t bust out their best American Idol moves on Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus and look at that little break as the favor I could totally make it out to be if only I had the energy to continue The Cookie Cop Out Tour 2011!
But because I cant’ do that, I better be getting one of these:
‘Thank you, Cookie. You are, once again, Queen of the Known Universe. Ruler of Awesomeville. Keeper of Yay!’
::: What? Too much? :::
Charlie Sheen needs to put down the webcam, grab a Steno pad and take notes from THE MASTA!
Actually, we should all bow down before the greatness, The Glory, THE POWER that is Belinda Masta —–>
Because who needs silly props when you can kick it CUSPID-style!
Pissed off at:
A. Whoever did that shit to her hair
C. The Man in the Moon
D. Her shoelaces
::: take your pick – I doubt there are really any wrong answers there :::
THE MASTA knew the only way to fly her freak flag as high as it could possibly go was to mix a few thousand gin and tonics with more than a dash of fucknuttery, tear a bunch of her own teeth out of her own head with her own bare hands and strip all 200 + pounds of her she-meat down to 100% pure naked before pelting random passers-by with rocks and calling them a bunch of words that all probably started with some variation of ‘Fuck’.
Otherwise, that’s just your average boring-ass mid-week name-calling and we’d all be asking ‘Where’s the win in that?!’
Take notes, Warlock!