Gee whiz, it’s Father’s Day! So don’t be an ungrateful little shit! Go get pops his slippers, his smoking jacket, the racing form, a muscle relaxer, and a dram of the paint-thinner scotch he insists is just as good as the expensive kind. If he’s hungry, bring him a fat, juicy, trembling steak. Maybe this steak, made from human poop.
Yes, the rich really are getting richer. Many economists have flapped their gums about the dangerously upward distribution of America’s wealth. Now comes a look at who’s actually been hoovering in all those big bucks: business executives with an unparalleled appetite for glitz, tackiness, and shamelessness.
That privileged club will soon inaugurate a new member: a homeless man in Utah whose current estate consists of a shopping cart. In something akin to the plot of a 1980s comedy, or maybe a sobering early 2000s HBO documentary, the man’s brother has left him a sizable fortune.
The foreclosure crisis buffeting all the rest of us slobs has a silver lining. So many homes are in hock that the bankers don’t have time to promptly and efficiently toss everyone they’d like to out on the streets.
Barack Obama’s war on Al-Qaeda has gone so swimmingly, with drone airplanes kicking the crap out of dozens of militants, that his administration might be able to use all that successful mayhem as a justification for pulling out of Afghanistan as fast and as soon as our throwback-1930s-isolationist Republican presidential contenders (enjoying a hypocritical junket/conference in New Orleans) say we should.
John McCain, a Republican who practically remembers the 1930s, gets up on his failed presidential candidate horse and reminds all those who vying to follow him into defeat that isolationism way back when brought a lot of “bad things” to the world. Like Nazis!
Repeating History, Part 1: NATO airstrikes intended for the forces of Libyan strongman Moammar Qaddafi instead obliterate a private home, killing civilians.
Repeating History, Part 2: Pakistan’s sieve-like intelligence service is still leaking sensitive information to targeted militants in the country’s tribal areas.
Barack Obama is preparing to drop the political charade that he personally opposes gay marriage, now that polls show most Americans, by a slight degree, say they now support it.
Springsteen cultists and music lovers are mourning the death of “Big Man” Clarence Clemons.
Closer to home: “Dr. No” has left the building in his third term. The cops are probing another gang shooting. There’s poop in the river… again. And thousands of people endured leers and bike-seat chafing to make a point about green transportation.
I DON’T WANT TO TAKE A BATH! I’M NOT DIRTY. LEAVE ME ALONE!
Japanese poop steak = FAKE. Though if it *was* real, someone would open a restaurant in Tokyo to serve it.
http://news.cnet.com/8301-17852_3-20072270…
I used to live just outside of Tokyo. There’s a lot of weird food there. Once, I ate the entirety of a sparrow, impaled on a sizable toothpick. I had myself a still-living sea urchin. I partook of Sashimi cut from the midsection of a fish, attached to a yet-quivering head and tail. I ate a tiny octopus while it was still alive, and it swam its final swimmings in the caustic sea of my digestive juices. In Tokyo, anything that you can put in your mouth can be found. Behind the doors, or in the cramped alleys, or secreted between blaring neon columns, universes of fantastical foodstuffs abound and can be found.
Except for poop. I’m pretty sure there are some things even the Japanese won’t eat.
Rx3, can man, the most dangerous game, be found in these Tokyo streets?
You definitely put lots of man in your mouth, especially in Shinjuku, but probably not in the way that you’re thinking.