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March 2009
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More KHOU Blogs
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Taylor: July 2007 ArchivesYou know what the world needs more of? Dancing convicts, if you ask me ... Me and 1.9 million of my closest friends. Are you itching for your 15 minutes of fame? Go ahead with your bad self, you smooth criminal, you! If you wanna be startin' somethin', all you need to do is get your felony on, go to the big house and cut a rug, Jacko-style! It worked for a group of prisoners in the Philippines.
Construction signs are always telling me things I don't want to know. Things like "Drive time to 610, 17 years at 5:31 p.m." and "Got plans? Too bad! Road work ahead." But never -- and I mean never -- has one told me the special of the day, so to speak, will be ... umm ... weenies. ...This is your brain. This is your brain on bugs. Any questions? Umm ... I have a question. WHAT THE $#@$#%@#!??? The same burning query must have been floating around in Aaron Dallas' head -- along with the bugs, of course -- when doctors told him the writhing, painful bumps on his noggin were, in fact, five active bot fly larvae. OK everybody, join me in 1991 with your Right Said Fred cassette and sing along! "She's too sexy for this bus. Too sexy for this bus-- She can't sit here with us. She's got boobies -- they're distracting! Got boobies so distracting -- The bus driver's reacting ... " If that can be considered art, then life imitated it in Germany this week when a driver threatened to kick a woman off a bus in Lindau because he claimed she was too sexy, Reuters reports.
You know, like the awe-inspiring rush that comes from participating in successful respiration, the unbridled joy that is eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the supreme satisfaction derived from actively blinking one's eyes, having a nice pee, watching "All My Children" -- wait, scratch that last one ... But I'm not Russell Rotta. You see, Russell Rotta is a man unconcerned life-affirming respiration or gratifying peanut-butter related simplicities. Russell Rotta only feels alive when he's jogging naked with reflective tape w... Strike a pose, ladies, but don't pop your sex suit! Have you ever been to a fashion show and saw a piece of clothing that you just had to have, but because it didn't protect against sexually transmitted diseases, and it wasn't ribbed for your pleasure and it didn't come in a little plastic pouch, you just couldn't bring yourself to buy it? Have we got some good news for you, you sick, sick freak. Call it condom couture.
Have you heard the one about a tree that walks into a bank? No? How about the one where the depraved fool with branches stuck to his head walks into a bank pretending to be a tree?
When school guidance counselors handed out those career aptitude tests back in the day that were supposed to tell you what you were meant to do with your life, I don't remember there being a category for "professional fornicator" that didn't involve the potential for extensive jail time and/or really uncomfortable footwear. But that was then, and this is now. An Australian company is boasting that it has the world's best job available for a few good men: a "sexecutive" career as a professional condom tester, Reuters reports.
Are you a manly, rustic type who's sick and tired of striking out with the ladies? Do you want a new house unfettered by modern annoyances such as running water, electricity and a pot to pee in, so to speak? Have we got a deal for you! Property hunters and/or lunatics will soon have the "rare opportunity" to purchase a cave home in a sandstone cliff in Worcestershire, the AFP reports.
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