Some things you just can't make up

The Register conveniently provides a copy of an online article from Galway First that apparently has clobbered their server - Irish donkey sex case shocks net. I know - it sounds like another "Day in the Taliban" article except in Ireland, but it's a lot better than that:

A man who was found dressed in latex and handcuffs brought a donkey to his room in a Galway city centre hotel, because he was advised "to get out and meet people," the local court heard last week.

Thomas Aloysius McCarney, with an address in south Galway, was charged with cruelty to animals, lewd and obscene behaviour, and with being a danger to himself when he appeared before the court on Friday. He was also charged with damage to a mini-bar in the room, but this charge was later dropped when the defendant said that it was the donkey who caused that damage. Solicitor for the accused Ms Sharon Fitzhenry said that her client had been through a difficult time lately and that his wife had left him and that his life had become increasingly lonely.

"Mr McCarney has been attending counselling at which he was told that he would be advised to get out and meet people and do interesting things. It was this advice that saw him book into the city centre hotel with a donkey," she said. She added that Mr McCarney also suffered from a fixation with the Shrek movies and could constantly be heard at work talking to himself saying things like "Isn't that right, Donkey?"

Supt John McBrearty told the court that Mr McCarney who had signed in as "Mr Shrek" had told hotel staff that the donkey was a family pet and that this was believed by the hotel receptionist who the supt said was "young and hadn't great English."

Receptionist Irina Legova said that Mr McCarney had told her that the donkey was a breed of "super rabbit" which he was bringing to a pet fair in the city. The court was told that the donkey went berserk in the middle of the night and ran amok in the hotel corridor, forcing hotel staff to call the gardai.

McCarney was found in the room wearing a latex suit and handcuffs, the key to which the donkey is believed to have swallowed. He was removed to Mill St station after which it is said he was the subject of much mirth among the lads next door in The Galway Arms.

He was fined €2,000 for bringing the donkey to the room under the Unlawful Accommodation of Donkeys Act 1837. Other charges were dropped due to lack of evidence.

I don't even know where to start with all the rich TGIF goodness in this tale, but there's a lesson here for Bill Clinton. If Hillary takes him back to the White House, he can always use the Donkey Defense when he inevitably gets caught.

Global Warming breakthrough!

Bristol boffins answer Branson's challenge:

Somebody call Al Gore and tell him he can leave the lights on in his house for as long as he likes: some academics in Bristol have solved the climate change crisis. Oh yes, and they want their $25m prize money from Richard Branson, thankyewverymuch.

Branson and Gore joined forces at the beginning of the month to offer the cash to the person who comes up with the best way of reducing the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. The winner, should there actually be one, will have to find a way of removing a billion tons of the gas from the atmosphere.

Now researchers at the University of Bristol have put forward their suggestion: stop breathing.

This also has the benefit of no flatulence either since methane is a greenhouse gas too.

This idea, while drastic, has the advantage of not costing anything, and requiring no significant investment in developing new technologies. The side effects are pretty messy, though, so the researchers offer a second suggestion: stop breathing so much.

Dr Mark Steer (in the background of the photograph above, in which he is accompanied by his colleague Dr. Andrew Impey) explains: "If we merely cut out one breath in three, we could decrease the amount of CO2 entering the atmosphere each year by a staggering 0.63 gigatonnes. That's the same effect as saving five million acres of land (an area the size of Wales) from deforestation."

Dang! Someone page the ecoweenies!

As well as averting the mass suicide of the planet's entire human population, this also means heading to the gym is a no-no.

In their press statement, the researchers explain that "the average person exercising at the recommended level of 30 minutes five times a week could be adding as much as 1.3kg of extra carbon dioxide to the atmosphere each year".

Just as well - most ecoweenies don't believe in soap and showers either. My only quibble: Does this mean we don't get to have any virgin sacrifices to appease the angry weather gods?

The original research report is here where one of the commenters claims precedence for a publication with additional suggestions like:

- Reduce sexual activity as much as possible. Even telephone sex can be responsible for terrestrially damaging heavy breathing.

Bad news for Bill Clinton!

- Fit your young children and pets with Envirohale ® (available directly from Trend Laboratories Inc of California). This simple device responds to excessive respiration and applies a mild electric shock to the genitalia.

You can see a snap of an early model of the Envirohale by following the link. Insist that all the Global Warming believers prove their seriousness by wearing one immediately!

Today's Hoot!

From Jay Leno:

Al-Qaida released another video tape from their No. 2 man. This one had a
shocking revelation: "The great Satan will soon taste unspeakable suffering from
our hands . . . Oh, and by the way, I am the father of Anna Nicole’s baby.”

Osama would have jumped in too, but he's taking an Afghanistan dirt nap and, of course, he was a well known goat botherer.

Yet more global warming fun

When your political party's highest endeavor is legislating the weather, you have to be prepared for surprises. Of course, we know that the weather isn't really what it's about:

Thank you, Vaclav Klaus. In the sanest statement on global warming to issue from officialdom anywhere on the planet, Czech President Vaclav Klaus has called this latest sky-is-falling movement what it really is: “A new incarnation of modern leftism.”

My translation: When you hear “Global Warming,” think “Central Planning.”

In an interview with a Czech financial newspaper, Hospodarske Noviny, picked up in translation by the Drudge Report, Klaus calls global warning a “false myth,” and explains — correctly — that the UN’s IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change), which issued the latest alarmist report, is “not a scientific institution” but “a sort of non-government organization of green flavor.”

Klaus has top credentials for sniffing out central planning schemes, of any flavor. He knows them all too well from Czechoslovakia’s decades behind the Soviet Iron Curtain, when the tint was red. It needs saying again and again. The drumbeat over global warming comes from the UN (here’s a link, again, to some background on the godfather of this movement, Maurice Strong). It is accompanied at every turn by schemes to transfer wealth, with the UN and its affiliates positioning themselves as toll collectors and traffic cops — promising somewhere down the line to reform the weather, but putting a hand out now for the money.

Seprating the marks from their cash and living the high life is what they do best at the UN.

Today's Hoot!

One day a fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up -- fireman, mechanic, businessman, salesman, doctor, lawyer, and so forth.

However, little Justin was being uncharacteristically quiet, so when the teacher prodded him about his father, he replied, "My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in front of other men and they put money in his underwear. Sometimes, if the offer is really good, he will go home with some guy and stay with him all night for money."

The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and then took little Justin aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?"

"No," the boy said, "he works for the Democratic National Committee and is helping to get Hillary Clinton to be our next President, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."

I love a good musical!

Even if the language is a tad strong as in My Fair Blogger:

Book by Iowahawk
Music by Frederick Loewe and Alan Jay Lerner
Based on "Fascist Pigmalian" by the Reality-Based Community Dinner Theater

SENATOR JOHN EDWARDS
I tell you why there are two Americas, my dear Dr. Dean. Man is a product of his environment.

HOWARD DEAN
Balderdash! "So bententh the tree," say I. Take the insane Bush cabal that plotted 9-11, for instance, genetically rotted from root to branch.

EDWARDS
This is where you are wrong my friend, and I shall prove you so. Take the young woman over there, banging on the keyboard.

HOWARD DEAN (sniffing)
The one who reeks of cat urine? Ghastly! What of her?

EDWARDS
I am prepared to wager my indoor squash court that I can train her to be a proper presidential campaign representative.

AMANDA MARCOTTE
F*cking s*ckwad c*cks*ck fundy f*ckwit godbag c*nt!

HOWARD DEAN
Ha-ho! I will gladly indulge your in your foolish wager, Senator!

EDWARDS
I say, good woman... what is your name?

AMANDA
Amanda f*cking Marcotte... Pandagon to you, you motherf*cking c*cks*cking tool of the Southern f*cking white f*cking racist patriarchy!

EDWARDS
Young woman, how would like a job as my official blog master!

AMANDA
No sh*t?!!

More hilarity by following the link and in the previous Pandagon Papers.

Queen Nancy won't be amused

It seems Queen Nancy Pelosi's request for a big party plane to ferry Her Highness, family, and pals back and forth to her district in San Francisco was denied. She did get a plane though:

I think I'll start a church!

Heck, why not? I've always wanted folks to call me "the Rev." Since, unlike today's mainstream Protestant denominations, I'd want the church to stand for something, I worked long and hard and came up with the following precepts:

We believe in the following 12 precepts and covenantal statements. These White Ethics must be taught and exemplified in homes, churches, nurseries and schools, wherever Whites are gathered. They must reflect on the following concepts:

1. Commitment to God
2. Commitment to the White Community
3. Commitment to the White Family
4. Dedication to the Pursuit of Education
5. Dedication to the Pursuit of Excellence
6. Adherence to the White Work Ethic
7. Commitment to Self-Discipline and Self-Respect
8. Disavowal of the Pursuit of "Middleclassness"
9. Pledge to make the fruits of all developing and acquired skills available to the White Community
10. Pledge to Allocate Regularly, a Portion of Personal Resources for Strengthening and Supporting White Institutions
11. Pledge allegiance to all White leadership who espouse and embrace the White Value System
12. Personal commitment to embracement of the White Value System.

What's that you say? You think these are too edgy? Sound a little racist, maybe? The "disavowal of Middleclassness" seems a bit like the more fervent Nazis in 1930's Germany? Well, I'll have you know that I merely borrowed these tenets from Barack Hussein Obama's church, the Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago and changed all the "Black" to "White" so it's got to be OK. Of course, ole Barack doesn't have to worry about disavowing Middleclassness since in addition to his Senator's salary and perks, his wife hauls down over 300 grand as a community liaison expert.

(Hat tip: Brothers Judd)

Update - Darn, I see that someone on Free Republic wants to use the same list for the Senator Byrd Recognition Committee. That's OK, we can share.

Fish out of water

(Via Rightwing News) David Broder hangs out with the Donk presidential candidates as they put on a dog and pony show for the party moonbats and spots some fun:

One of the losers in the weekend oratorical marathon was retired Gen. Wesley Clark, who repeatedly invoked the West Point motto of "Duty, Honor, Country," forgetting that few in this particular audience have much experience with, or sympathy for, the military.

Forget the military, today's Democrat party has no experience with, or sympathy for the entire concept of "Duty, Honor, Country." Not that Weasley does either, of course.

Count on the New York Times for the party line on every page

In the bad old days before Ronald Reagan kicked the Russian commies' butts, it was always amusing to read the English version of Pravda. Since it was the official paper of the Soviet Communist party it had to toe the party line, but you never actually knew how the most ordinary daily events would translate in light of the wacky wisdom of prevailing Marxist-Leninist norms.

The reason that I mention it is that reading the New York Times these days produces a similar effect. If you doubt it, just check out apparatchik Stuart Elliott's protracted whine from today's New York Times' purported "Business" section entitled Super Bowl Ads of Cartoonish Violence, Perhaps Reflecting Toll of War:

No commercial that appeared last night during Super Bowl XLI directly addressed Iraq, unlike a patriotic spot for Budweiser beer that ran during the game two years ago. But the ongoing war seemed to linger just below the surface of many of this year’s commercials.

Er, how's that exactly, Stu?

More than a dozen spots celebrated violence in an exaggerated, cartoonlike vein that was intended to be humorous, but often came across as cruel or callous.

Gosh! I guess no Kumbaya, tofu, or PBS pledge drive in sight at the Superbowl has ole Stu's panties tightly knotted over his perceived brutalization of the American people defending themselves from Islamic thugs.

For instance, in a commercial for Bud Light beer, sold by Anheuser-Busch, one man beat the other at a game of rock, paper, scissors by throwing a rock at his opponent’s head.

In another Bud Light spot, face-slapping replaced fist-bumping as the cool way for people to show affection for one another. In a FedEx commercial, set on the moon, an astronaut was wiped out by a meteor. In a spot for Snickers candy, sold by Mars, two co-workers sought to prove their masculinity by tearing off patches of chest hair.

I'm sure that's heap bad mojo for "sensitive guys" like Stu but sobbing over his delicate nature isn't an overly convincing argument. Unfortunately there's lots more wimpy whining before ole Stu finally approaches the vicinity of what appears to be his point and brings us the word from Party Chairman Pinch Sulzberger and KGB honcho Bill Keller:

Those who wish the last four years of history had never happened could find solace in several commercials that used the device of ending an awful tale by revealing it was only a dream.
...
Then, too, there was the unfortunate homonym at the heart of a commercial from Prudential Financial, titled “What Can a Rock Do?”

The problem with the spot, created internally at Prudential, was that whenever the announcer said, “a rock” — invoking the Prudential logo, the rock of Gibraltar — it sounded as if he were saying, yes, “Iraq.”

Cue the Twilight Zone music and the guys in the white coats. I guess there'll be something extra in Stu's holiday bonus envelope this year if the Times doesn't go belly up by then or suffer a coup from irate shareholders. Best line from the latter:

"The Times company does not want to open its doors to the kind of turmoil that really rips apart an organization," says Janet Robinson, CEO of the New York Times Co., referring to recent shareholder uprisings at Knight Ridder and Tribune Co. "This is a very important institution not only to the media community but to the nation at large."

That's what the Soviet Communist Party thought too.