Tag Archives: humor

Mistakes Were Made

Macaca mulatta in Guiyang
1 CASE ID: 9:13-CR-14388
2
3 STATEMENT BY THE DEFENDANT PRIOR TO SENTENCING:
4
5 "Your honor, some things careen out of control due to
6 ignorance, and my child's group science fair project is an
7 example of that. I really had no idea what was going on,
8 and I will forever carry a burden of guilt and shame for what
9 happened. I accept full responsibility for all the hurt,
10 confusion, and trouble, and will fully compensate all affected
11 parties.
12
13 I beg the court for leniency and the indulgence of explaining
14 how matters came to pass, as there are multiple untruths being
15 spread that impugn the honor of my family and imply that
16 malice was behind the events, when none whatsoever was
17 present.
18
19 Your honor, it is true that my daughter's project was examining
20 the brain chemistry of addiction. It is also true that I supported
21 this project financially by giving her my credit card number
22 in order to purchase supplies. It is true that I neither provided
23 oversight of the finances nor of the project.
24
25 I believe, and still do, that children must be accorded a certain
26 liberty in order to learn and should be graded on the quality of
27 their work, not by how well their parents assisted them. Of this
28 I am guilty.
29
30 Concerning the rhesus monkey, I am at a loss how the animal
31 husbandry firm my daughter and her friends ordered it from
32 did not vet her as a buyer. My lawyer advises me that they
33 have conveniently lost the purchase order and live animal
34 laboratory certification that should accompany any order.
35
36 That the local pet shop did not bat an eye at a sixteen
37 year-old girl ordering, and I quote from their order sheet, "One
38 small, stainless steel primate enclosure and three, forty-pound
39 bags of monkey chow" with her father's credit card is beyond
40 me. Such is capitalism nowadays, a sale at any cost, no matter
41 how farcical, I guess.
42
43 I also must look askew at my credit card company's anti-fraud
44 division for allowing daily maximum cash advances until my
45 card was maxed out. A close review of my account shows that
46 I had never, ever taken a cash advance prior.
47
48 Now, as to the trafficking of seven kilograms of cocaine, this
49 can be explained by entrapment, a unit measure mix-up, and
50 youthful naïveté.
51
52 The testing protocol my girl downloaded from the Internet
53 called for seven grams total for the experiment. Not familiar
54 with the metric system, which is an indictment of the poor state
55 of science education in my district, she took the word of the
56 undercover DEA agent who told her that what she really wanted
57 was seven kilograms.
58
59 The science group did eventually figure it out after they brought
60 it home, but by then it was too late; the transaction was
61 complete.
62
63 At this point I must stress that the agent's own report says,
64 "Suspect indicated she needed a bunch of cocaine so she and her
65 friends could get as high as monkeys," which is such an amazing
66 twisting of the facts to be laughable and is clearly a misquote.
67
68 I will let the court draw its own conclusions around the DEA's
69 judgement of actually delivering to an underage girl seven
70 kilograms of cocaine. Aren't there laws against providing minors
71 with controlled substances?
72
73 With regards to the headless monkey corpse in the ice cream
74 freezer at school, it was a practical joke gone awry, and our
75 daughter and family deeply regret the lunchroom supervisor's heart
76 attack upon discovery of the body. We wish Mrs. Stowe a speedy
77 convalescence.
78
79 I feel for her, as I can tell you from personal experience that it
80 is a shock to discover monkey body parts in your kitchen. In our
81 case, it was after we posted bail and our daughter showed us the
82 rest of the monkey's remains in the recycling bin and the
83 bloody meat slicer in a garbage bag under the sink. Given
84 all that, there is no truth to the rumor that she obtained the
85 brain slices she exhibited at the show from a break-in at the
86 local research hospital.
87
88 About the show itself; this was, again, a clear case of the
89 teenage mind at work. It does not excuse the behavior, but it
90 does at least explain it.
91
92 As we all know, the girls' exhibit drew a crowd. Their idea
93 to demonstrate addictive behaviors at the show by placing "sugar-
94 coated graham snacks" at their table was, obviously, dumb.
95
96 I extend my deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter to
97 all the parents, students, family, friends, and staff who ate the
98 cocaine-dusted monkey chow and to all who were injured in
99 the resulting melee.
100
101 We will, of course, pay all medical expenses and for the
102 replacement of the bleachers, basketball backboards, plumbing
103 and subsequent water damage, and detox for Mrs. Mayfair, the
104 principal. We deeply regret breaking her narcotics sobriety
105 and wish her well for the future.
106
107 Humbly,
108 Alex Southworth
109
110
111 APPENDED TO THE RECORD AS EXHIBIT S.

The American Happy/Depressed Scale – An Infographic

Happy-Depressed-Scale(Click for larger version.)

 

Lawyers Have No Sense of Humor – A Letter from a Lawyer

In 1994, posting commercial ‘spams’ to USENET was still relatively rare, and would generally elicit quite a spirited response from irate newsgroup readers.

One day an article showed up in alt.tasteless called “Jane Goodall Roots & Shoots” whereby a firm purporting to represent Jane Goodall was selling children’s slippers, with the proceeds going to benefit Jane Goodall’s Roots and Shoots program.

I took the opportunity of this unsolicited advertisement to mix it around, poke fun at the folks who sent it, a firm claiming to represent Dr. Jane Goodall, and post it back into alt.tasteless.

Well, the world is a funny place, and it turns out that someone saw my ‘edited’ version of this spam and contacted the Roots and Shoots program to tell them of my posting. As it turns out, the Roots and Shoots program had never authorized any firm to sell children’s slippers on their behalf, and not only was the spam a spam, it was using the Roots and Shoots name illegally. In short order, the firm was debunked and cease-and-desisted, and life went on. My article scrolled off into /dev/null on USENET, but I archived it for fun.

Then I received this letter in 1997.

 

 

Oy vey!

Ronald Reagan writes Mitt Romney – A #RomneyRyan2012 #obama Short Story

Dear Mitt,

I’m not voting for you even though I was one of those undecided voters who seriously considered it.

I tried, I really tried.

You were the winner of Republican Idol, for darn sakes! Who doesn’t like a winner? Losers, that’s who.

But I’ve learned that you’re really a cargo cult of other people’s terrible ideas.

I was going to text, but I didn’t want you to have my phone number.

YouTube was completely out, because I didn’t want you to see me and I’m having a very bad hair month.

Twitter was like your own beliefs, too short and ephemeral.

And I couldn’t use Pinterest because I couldn’t think of a clever e-card or find one that would work.

Facebook, was, well, Facebook, and I didn’t want to surpise my friends, family, acquaintances, and people I’ve forgotten how I know until I told you first because it’s a manners thing. I didn’t want to run the risk of you asking me why I did it before I got a chance to tell you why I did it.

So here we are.

Since the Internet is such a small place nowadays and we might just have people from our respective camps mingle and speculate on if I might change my mind, I wanted to publicly avow now and here before the world that we are never going to be a thing together and that I think you are a self-righteous, uptight, hypocritical, boring, lame, overreaching, cold oligarch of the worst sort that extracts instead of invests, and that I still I love my friends even if they’re voting for you.

We had some good times together looking at your hair and forehead, and laughing our way through the primary at the nutbags you had to crawl over in order to grovel in front of us today, but neither excuse your boorish, sexist, misogynistic, paternalistic behaviors and philosophies, nor your twin, idiotic, anti-thought, reactionary, spreadsheet-selected excuses that are your policies and your running mate.

Dan Quayle looks like an elder statesman in more than age compared to Paul Ryan. Do you know how hard that is for everybody else but John McCain?

Staged photo-ops in soup kitchens? Not what, but who the fuck came up with that one? I’ll take the risqué carving from South America flashed to the press any day of the year instead. At least Dan’s handlers had a sense of humor unlike the useless, cynical charlatans in your employ.

If, on the odd chance you actually win, I will continue to agitate and ferment my personally-held beliefs about you amongst the populace while respecting the process by which you were elected.

Sincerely,
Ronald Reagan

P.S. – Did you know that Jane Goodall’s laywers once tried to sue everybody on the Internet who said something bad about her?

P.P.S. – This article is a parody and should be considered satire, and is in no way designed to suggest that Dr. Jane Goodall or any of her registered agents has ever authorzied or consented to the use of her name to sell foreskin slippers, or that Mitt Romney is anything other than an upstanding and outstanding candidate for President of the United States.

P.P.P.S. – No llamas were harmed writing this.

P.P.P.P.S. – I’m very sorry that I used foreskin and Mitt Romney in the same sentence. Lawyers, and all.

More Adventures in Fundraising

Fundraising is a funny thing.

If you’ve never done it, it appears to be a light-sucking black box. Magical things happen in there, and some people go into it and never come back out.

If you’ve done it, you know it’s really a fragile, transparent, little glass box, easily shattered. But then, HA! HA! the joke is on you! It’s a solid crystal that you accidentally drop on your foot, crushing a toe. Then it melts like an ice cube and you’re bailing out your sever room because somebody’s dishwasher two stories up and 100′ feet over, leaked aaaallllllllll across the supporting beam that sagged directly above same-said server room. And that turns out to be another one of those Mayberry-esque moments in ancient corporate history, happening way before you deposit close to a million dollars into the bank, (AND HOLY FUCK THAT TELLER DIDN’T EVEN BLINK WHEN I PUSHED THE DEPOSIT SLIP OVER. Was I on surveillance? Did I look like a drug lord with machine guns strapped over my back, rudely hidden under a way too clean duster that also made me look like I might wear a mechanical exoskeleton under it? Wonder what the bandwidth is looking like today…)

Wait, where was I?

Oh, that’s right.

Fundraising is standing in someone who thinks they’re very important’s office, and you are neither offered the courtesy of a seat, nor the acknowledgement of an introduction to a person sitting very far away on the other side of the person who thinks they’re very important’s office. And then they have the temerity to ask for a board seat with their investment.

And. They. Never. Send. In. Their. Fucking. Paperwork. Even. After. You. Call. And. Get. Promises. Because. They’re. A. Douchebag.

(I’m still amazed at how many people are absolutely incapable of saying no, especially myself!)

And then you visit a Zen temple inside of a converted church, begging for more money from another former Microsoft executive manager who did send in their paperwork, and they give you Zen homework:

“When you think you’ve cut to the bone, you haven’t. Look again.

No.”

And it’s a dismal, quiet drive home with the CFO and COO, because everyone is thinking the same thing.