A Bloodsucker on the Web

Anyone who’s ever had an abcessed tooth and the resultant root canal knows the misery it can bring. It hurts like hell, and it stinks, both literally and figuratively. A rotten tooth literally stinks of putrefaction and decay, to the core. And paying $1000 for a root canal out of pocket, followed by another $1750 for the crown because you don’t have dental insurance, stinks too.

What stinks even more is when health care specialists go at their profession with the first and foremost goal of getting filthy, stinking rich on you. This stench amplifies when they botch a procedure. Which they do, more often than many people realize.

But what stinks most of all is the maggot who creates a codified system for health professionals, designed to facilitate their rise into the ranks of the rich and leisurely, with virtually no regard to the suffering engendered by the obscenely high cost of health care for young and old alike, in the United States.

Mind you, that’s just my opinion. This guy could be a saint, and I could be the bad guy here. Read it and decide for yourself.

Assy McGee is Back

Assy McGee. Cop. Loose cannon. Romantic. Drunk.

What Sly Stallone would look like if he had an ass for a face.

On Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim next Sunday, 12:30 am.

I had a look at Assy’s website. There’s a “fartboard” there, featuring audio clips of Assy’s various gassy exclamations, e.g., the hard-boiled “Fart of Simmering Rage,” the poignant “2 a.m. Fart of Lonliness,” and the comedic “You can say that again Sanchez!” fart. Among others.

http://www.adultswim.com/shows/assy/fartboard/index.html

Posted nearly simultaneously at Fist of Blog

Romance: Gone With The Wind

Quite a few years ago, my ex-wife worked with a young lady whose husband was beset by chronic flatulence. Apparently he had decided to embrace his condition, and so he would brazenly break wind and make rude comments about it, often in the most inappropriate social settings. For example, at my wife’s company picnic as we were eating, seated at picnic tables with various of her co-workers and their families, he would from time-to-time lift an ass-cheek, let one go, and say things like, “Whoa, you’d best get upwind from that one,” or “Smell the crack of the Earth…”

Charmed, I’m sure. I’d never seen anything like it. Despite my fascination with the vulgar, even I know where the line of propriety versus impropriety falls.

After we arrived home that evening, my wife told me that this odoriferous fellow, when at home with his wife, would cut enormous protracted farts beneath the bedclothes in the morning, and then forcibly confine the poor woman’s head underneath the blankets until she could hold her breath no longer.

This is tantamount to abuse to my thinking, but what’s worse is that she was beautiful. I mean, a tall, long-legged country girl descended from German milkmaids, with golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a face to lauch a thousand ships.

Sigh. There’s no accounting for taste. I guess there must have been something to love about the guy, despite the affrontery of his overactive butt.

The following article was the catalyst for my calling this stinky, stinky man to mind–

Sex life has gone with husband’s wind

Q: I AND my husband are having big arguments over his disgusting habit of getting into bed every night and then spending 10 minutes breaking wind, stinking out the room.After that, I obviously have no interest whatsoever in having sex with him.

He says it’s natural, but as I have pointed out to him many times, so is going to the lavatory, but no one would dream of doing it in the bed.

We have only been married for six months. He seldom did it when we were just engaged, but he says now we’re married, he wants to be able to relax in his own bed in his own house.

Read the advice columnist’s reply

Skunkweed

Man Arrested for Bank Deposit with Pot Stench

By Dan O’Donnell

If you’re heading to the bank to make a deposit today, make sure your bills don’t smell like weed.

A 21 year-old man from Sturgeon Bay faces possible drug charges after he tried to deposit money that reeked of reefer…

Read the entire article

—–

Stinky? Wash with onions.

Okay, so the hospital left a swab inside her body after labor, creating pain and misery, and causing a stench to develop. That’s bad. But where on earth did this woman get the idea that washing with onions was going to help?

Mother may sue over swab left in body after labour

Hendrick Mphande
HERALD REPORTER

A YOUNG Motherwell woman is considering legal action after nurses left a swab inside her body after the birth of her baby.

Naledi Maleke‘s ordeal started on the morning of January 6, 2006, when she developed labour pains and her sister and a friend took her to the Motherwell Clinic, a 10-minute drive from her parents‘ home.

She had a disagreement with a nursing sister at the clinic over how she should position herself before giving birth. The nurse apparently “developed an attitude” when she refused to lie in a position in which she felt uncomfortable.

“Two days after leaving the hospital, I started experiencing discomfort and pains in the abdominal area,” said Maleke.

“I was unable to walk properly and this was accompanied by a stench.”

After 17 days of excruciating pain along with the foul odour, the East Cape Midlands College student consulted a doctor in Kwazakhele who discovered the swab.

“I tried everything from washing with salty water and peeled onions mixed in a bucketful of water, but the awful smell I picked up after giving birth to my baby boy had a grip on me,” said Maleke….

Read the entire article

The Ultimate Psycho-Dog-People House

I would like to say that it’s a virtual certainty that this story, which I’m posting in the “Putrid Dog Houses” category, among others, will become the eternal standard against which all other putrid dog houses will forever be judged. However, America has become the land of “outlandish excess” on practically every front, so I can offer no such certainty.

As in the other cases of psycho-pet-people houses, that said abodes stink to high heaven almost goes with saying.

800 Small Dogs Seized From Ariz. Home

By ARTHUR H. ROTSTEIN – 20 hours ago

TUCSON, Ariz. (AP) — About 800 small dogs, including Chihuahuas, terriers and Pomeranians, were seized from a triple-wide mobile home whose occupants were overwhelmed trying to care for the animals, authorities said Wednesday.

Pima County sheriff’s deputies and animal welfare officials who removed the dogs also found 82 caged parrots in the home in a rural area northwest of Tucson.

Read more

Virtual Toilet Paper

Back in the early days of the Web, I remember a page that specialized in links to “most pointless webpages.” One such page involved an ongoing chronicle of how the appliances in some guy’s house were functioning.

That page was less pointless than this one:

http://www.papertoilet.com/

There is but one function, here – you may roll the toilet paper off the roll (use your mousewheel – it’s faster). Once the roll is gone, a single mouseclick generates a new roll, which you may then also deplete, and so on…

This is what you get when domain names come cheap. Asswipe.

Starbucks verdict on “smelly sandwiches” suffers backlash

A little over a month ago, I made a post entitled “Starbucks corporate analysts: sausage on a roll stinks like a dead dog,” expressing my opinion that their decision to remove the “odoriferous” sandwiches from their menus is “…a bunch of smelly, nouveau-rich, pop-culture mock-elitist bullshit….”

The backlash is here. And it’s doing abysmally, because y’all want smarmy stuff like pumpkin-cream cheese scones with chocolate chips for brekkie, I guess.

Andrew Beaujon of Washington City Paper weighs in on the issue:

You Can Pry My Peppered Bacon, Aged Cheddar, and Egg From My Cold, Dead Hands

Involuntarily, I shouted “NOOOO!” when I read this line in the Times‘ story about Starbucks’ three-hour training session last night:

Lest anyone doubt that Starbucks is serious, employees were reminded that the chain intended to get rid of odoriferous breakfast sandwiches, just so customers can smell the coffee again.

Couldn’t they just get rid of the tea, or the Marcus Samuelsson–inspired baked goods, instead? I’ve got two kids, and sometimes those sandwiches are the only reason I have anything to eat before noon. Oh but wait: The Internet comes to the rescue

Meanwhile, the food critic at the San Diego Union-Tribune asks:

…I’ve endured parched maple scones in L.A., sickly-sweet streusel coffeecake in Chicago and a muffin in the Boston airport that didn’t make it past the first trash can.

What’s with Starbucks’ pastries? How can they be uniformly dry and tasteless in markets across the country? How can a company that prides itself on consistency and quality control of its coffee products be so hopelessly out of the loop with its edibles…?

Read the entire column

 

A smelly slogan

Last August, after an all day airshow, my brother and I were making the long trek across the brown fields back to the car when we encountered a spilled porta-pottie. A truck had been transporting the odoriferous receptacle and it had been upset somehow, dumping its contents onto the ground.

The smell was abominable and we gave it wide berth, but not before I snapped a picture of the tanker truck that was there to vacuum up the mess–

Assholes Stink

Many moons ago, circa AOL 3.0 for Win95, when the Internet was still a blank slate, a mutual friend of my roomie and I told us that he had seen a photograph on the Internet graphically displaying the act of “anallingus.” Misanthrope that I am, I did not scoff, but my roomie (being not yet wise in the ways of the world) denied that such an act was possible let alone popular.

Faced with a challenge, our mutual friend brought this photo for us to view. My roomie was scandalized, whereupon I disclosed my knowledge of a particular couple who claimed to regularly engage in this practice. I mentioned how the male of this couple had said, “It doesn’t taste bad as long as it’s clean…”

My roomie cried out, in an agonized voice, “THAT PART CAN’T BE CLEAN!!!”

Indeed. Assholes stink. Which brings us around, in a very roundabout fashion, to the subject of this post. Go listen to this charming little ditty by “Django and Chris,” the “Crackhead Beatniks,” who hold the distinction of having once been the “hottest thing to hit Laramie, Wyoming, since the Boot Scootin Boogie.” The manner in which it relates to this post will be come clear soon enough.

HU to Thumb at Fist of Blog for introducing me to this delightful post-modern interpretation of the Beat Generation’s coffeehouse craft. Kerouac, Ginsberg, eat your hearts out, whereever you are. Don’t eat anything else out, though.