• The man who quipped "The name is Dalton..." after his set/bar fight at the Double Deuce is no more. Godspeed, Mr. Healey. I thought you would be bigger.
• Bacon cups. I may have the wife whip me up some bacon cups so I can pack them full of bacon bits and have a heart attack upon consumption.
  
• A photo essay about Uncle Dirty (NSFW). Uncle Dirty has a hog, friends. Enjoy the thong photo (near the bottom) which displays Uncle Dirty's skid marks. You are welcome.

Labels: bacon, death, link goodness, perversion, pop culture, wife

Last night I walked downstairs to adjust the settings on the sprinkler control box and noticed a mess of feathers strewn about the basement. There I found our kitten, MJ, sitting cocksure over a dead bird with her smooth, serpentine tail slapping against the cold concrete floor. I caught her primal gaze and a bursting sense of pride welled up inside me. "Take that you stupid bird," I thought. Then I did what any parent would do after they learned their child had just committed murder: lavish praise on said child (or in this case, said kitty) and than dispose of the body.

Labels: death, killing, kitty

Today a lone gunman killed 33 people (including his best shot, himself) and injured 28 at Virginia Tech, making it the second worse school-related mass murder in US history. Number one on the list is still the 1927 Bath School Disaster, followed by the 1999 Columbine Massacre and finally the 1966 Whitman Tower Shootings at the University of Texas. Being a veteran of the Columbine Massacre media frenzy (the shooting was less than 20 miles from my house) here is a list of things you can expect to happen in the next year:

• Local news media will interview individuals that had no involvement in the event save that they were enrolled at the school at the time said event occurred. Most normal family and friends close to the victims will grieve in private rather than talk to guys like Geraldo.
• Comparisons will run rampant between similar school shooting tragedies. Most news agencies will lead in tonight's broadcast with, "Only four days away from the eighth anniversary of the Columbine Massacre..."
• An analytical breakdown of the killer's lifestyle habits including what video games he played, what music he listened to, what books he read, what movies he watched and how disturbing his writing was on his Blog/MySpace page. Armchair psychologists will then diagnose the killer with a host of disorders that would have indicated he was going to commit mass murder sometime in the near future.
• The authorities will be blamed for not responding fast enough or for covering something up.
• Proposed knee-jerk gun control legislation will be drafted/enacted to prevent a tragedy like this from ever happening again.
• A fabricated religious subplot will unfold and parents will exploit their dead children by writing books about them (like this and this).
• Virginia residents will be able to commemorate the tragedy by registering their State's own "Respect Life" license plates (like this). Fellow drivers will then be able to relive the horrific event everyday during rush hour traffic.

Labels: columbine, death, mass murder

Kurt Vonnegut died late last in Manhattan. He was 84. He is one of my favorite writers and I know the world will miss him. He witnessed the firebombing of Dresden firsthand and based parts of his most famous work Slaughterhouse-Five on the experience. He wrote many books, but in my opinion, A Man Without A Country was one of his best. He ends the book with this fitting poem:

When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
perhaps
from the floor
of the Grand Canyon,
"It is done."
People did not like it here.

I'm sure Kurt is up in heaven now.

Labels: books, death

Minutes ago I heard sirens nearby and instantly thought the authorities were raiding another meth lab in the neighboring apartment complex or that another unit in our town home community was on fire. I set foot outside to witness paramedics wheeling out a dead body four units down.'Burb livin' is hardcore, yo. Represent.

Labels: death, l-i-v-i-n, the fairways

Anna Nicole Smith is dead from popping a handful of sedatives and choking on her own vomit. Glamorous. Is anyone shocked? Anyone besides other drugged out bitches with balloons surgically implanted in their chest cavity? It was just a matter of time before Anna Nicole's major organs exploded due to heavy narcotic intake. I am done with the major news outlets already; especially those comparing her to Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn was a smoking hot sexpot and had talent. Anna Nicole had a big rack and a penchant slurring her way through interviews. Marilyn had a stable that was the envy of most straight women of her era: JFK, RFK, Joey D and Arthur Miller. Anna Nicole's stable included a billionaire that looked like an exhumed corpse, a Jewish lawyer that weighs a buck twelve and random strip club patrons that paid her $200 for a champagne room hand job.

Labels: death, drugs, pop culture

• Tobacco companies have been increasing nicotine in cigarette brands popular with high school kids and minorities for the past decade. For those power smokers out there wanting that big nicotine fix, The MB suggests you start puffing away on Marlboros, Dorals or Kools.
• Twenty things you didn't know about death.
• A confession forum for Christians addicted to porn. Good times.

Labels: death, link goodness

Aside from the fringe human population that enjoy slitting hooker's throats and bathing in their blood, most human beings have a deep aversion to killing. This poses a problem when one's job requires them to kill (e.g. soldiers, police officers, CFOs). Conditioning people to kill and deal with the psychological consequences is known as Killology; a lovely neologism coined by Dave Grossman. He even wrote an uplifting book on the matter that I just added it to my Amazon Wish List.

Labels: death, killing

I apologize for my neglect of the MB lately as work has kept me busier than your mom after inhaling amyl nitrite at an anal sex convention. I have been catching up after three weeks of ruining my life and the subsequent celebration of ruining my life in a third world country. On with todays link goodness:

• Graphic representation in the form of nationalistic coffins of the mounting death toll in the Israel-Lebanon conflict (updated daily).
• An open letter to a mental case into mini-fridges.
• A Japanese game show that gives contestants a little "How's Your Father" for incorrect answers.

Labels: death, link goodness

Rest in peace, Mr. Furley. We hardly knew ye.

Labels: death, pop culture

The California Supreme Court has rejected Tookie Willams, co-founder of the Crips, appeal for a stay of execution. The killing is set to take place tomorrow unless granted clemency Governor Schwarzenegger (insert bad "You're fired" True Lies line here). Tookie maintains his innocence from the murder charges to this day. He also had a thing for the close contact shotgun action:

According to the forensic pathologist, Yen-I Yang suffered two shotgun wounds. One shotgun wound was to his left arm and abdomen. This wound shredded Yen-I's left arm, fractured his ribs, and shattered his spleen, right kidney, bowel and large vessels. The other shotgun wound was to the lower left chest. This wound also fractured ribs and shattered the spleen, right kidney, bowel and large vessels. Moreover, a plastic shotgun shot container and associated wadding were recovered from the base of Yen-I's liver. The pathologist further explained that both of the Yen-I Yang's wounds were inflicted when the end of the muzzle was only feet from Yen-I's body. Yee-Chen Lin was shot once in the upper left face area at a distance of a few feet. She was transported from the scene by paramedics to Centinela Hospital where she died at 7:36 am.

On a lighter note: Congratulations to my sister (and her husband) who successfully delivered a bouncing baby boy early Saturday morning. Tale of the tape: Caleb John; 7 pounds 13 ounces and 20 inches long. I cannot wait to give that kid scotch whiskey, dirty magazines and smokes for his sixth birthday. Maybe even a shotgun.

Labels: crime, death

Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris has fenced off a famous tomb to prevent lewd acts being performed on the sepulcher cover. Apparently the statue's crotch has seen more action than Tommy Lee's. Unlike Tommy Lee's junk, however, you do not have to get checked for gonorrhea and hepatitis after rubbing up on it.

Labels: death, perversion

• Thailand is portraying imagery of bad teeth, tumors and death instead of verbal cues as warnings on cigarette packs.
• "Cool Mom" Silvia Johnson (reacquaint yourself with the saga here and here) is moving to scenic Canon City, Colorado for the next 30 years. With that haircut I think she'll fit right in.
• I did not know it was so easy to get Mormons to jump from moving cars. Any Latter Day Saints out there need a ride? (In all honesty, we probably would not make it to backing out of the driveway).

Labels: bad parents, colorado, death, link goodness, mormons, perversion, silvia johnson

• A chart of reported suicides off the Golden Gate Bridge.
• Fucking dirty hippies.
• The trebuchet was a siege weapon that was primarily used to fire plague-ridden corpses and other missiles over castle walls. It was not intended for college students looking for kicks on a Friday night.

Labels: death, link goodness, suicide, tomfoolery

• A frightening haunted house. Frightening not because of superb effects and realistic horror scenarios but because it is operated by a registered sex offender.
• A classic Halloween prank goes awry in trailer park. The world is shocked.
  
• Wikipedia for the man who killed Halloween. Thanks to this prick and the paranoia he caused, I did not have a Snickers bar until I was in junior high. My dad would "check" all of my candy post trick-or-treating and deem it safe for consumption. He would take all the Snickers bars out of my bag and say things like, "This one is no good, son. It is poisoned" or "You cannot eat this one. It looks like someone tampered with it." These "tainted" candy bars then found their way into my Dad's secret candy stash for him to enjoy periodically through out the year. Fuck you, Candyman.
  

Labels: death, halloween, link goodness, tomfoolery

Links Jake would have sent me this morning if he was not unplugged in Boston:

• Diseased monkeys threaten San Juan, Puerto Rico.
• A cockfight grenade attack.
• Pig tattooing.

Labels: death, jake, link goodness, monkeys, tattoos

Islamic terrorist attacks hit London's public transport system during the morning commute. Damn. Send some love to our Limey friends across the Atlantic.

Labels: death

• An image bank of celebrities playing table tennis. My personal favorite is Mr. Ed wielding the paddle.
• It is raining men. Hallelujah.
  
• If you gave someone crabs and need to let them know send an eCard. There is nothing like getting notified via email that you have gonorrhea. My favorite feature is the ability to send one card to multiple addresses (a.k.a. the "slut blast"). I am tempted to send an email to my entire contact list informing them that I gave them herpes and signing it Ron Mexico.

Labels: death, link goodness, pop culture, sex

Yesterday, a squirrel ran underneath my moving car and committed suicide. I saw the little bastard out of the corner of my eye as I drove down the street and assumed he would not tempt fate by running into the street until I was past. As I came closer, the disturbed vermin darted out from the curb and I flattened his ass. The squirrel had some emotional issues and my Firestone radial happened to be a means to an end. He is survived by a family of ninety infested with the bubonic plague.

Labels: death, tomfoolery

• A funeral procession led by the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
• A car crashes into the second story of a house.
• Longtime reader and friend of the MB got a haircut over the weekend in preparation for the upcoming Trixter concert.

Labels: death, link goodness, music, pop culture

• Architectural projects for the Soviet Union (circa 1930-1950) that were never realized. My personal favorites: The Palace of Soviets and The Aeroflot Building.
• Carmen Electra's Advanced Aerobic Striptease.
  
• The ten biggest threats to Earth and life as we know it. I am hoping humanity does not get wiped out by a viral pandemic (too boring) or terrorists (too cliche). If anything, I am pulling for a super volcano to rain down ash and fire on us or for hyper-intelligent robots to turn our planet into a goddamn apocalyptic nuclear wasteland like in The Terminator.
• The Philadelphia Flyers Have a Time Machine: Installment Four.

Labels: death, link goodness, pop culture, science, sex, sports

Rapper C Murder is changing his professional name to C Miller because he thinks people misunderstand him and perceive him as a killer. I do not think it is the name that makes me think C Miller is down with homicide so much as it is the conviction and mandatory life sentence for second degree murder.

Labels: death, music, pop culture

The pontiff is no more. Rumor has it the next pope may be Latin American. Me? I am pulling for a Jew. Rest in peace, JP the Deuce. We hardly knew ye.

Labels: death, religion

The MB will be experiencing down time for few days as I ditch Yahoo! Web Hosting* and make the transition over to Joyent. Until then entertain yourself with this:

• Four men steal a goat, beat it to death with hammers, butcher it and then trade the goat steaks to a drug dealer named Smalls (he uses the meat to feed his fighting pit bulls) for crack.
• German artist Gunther von Hagens wants to build a corpse art factory. The girlfriend and I will be in Chicago the same time his exhibit Bodyworlds is showing. I will have to talk her into going to see it (Read: Vanilla Stoli).
• A woman digs up the remains of her ex-boyfriend to spite his family. She adds insult to injury by drinking the beer and smoking the cigarettes that were buried with him.

*After being a loyal customer for just under five years, Yahoo! Web Hosting failed to inform me that my package was lowered five dollars nearly six months ago and did not bother switching me to the lower rate automatically. After emailing Yahoo! about this oversight, they responded with an auto-generated email thanking me for my inquiry. In short, Yahoo! Web Hosting sucks the sweat off of a dead donkey's balls.

Labels: death, drugs, geekery, rage, technology

Addendum to my escalator preparedness rule: Make sure your escape plan includes a way out of a hooded sweatshirt.

Labels: death, tomfoolery

Hunter S. Thompson, the pioneer of gonzo journalism, killed himself. During my first trip to Las Vegas I remember staring at the casino carpet and laughing my ass off. I had just read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas on the plane. Sonny Barger admitted post Hells Angels that Hunter is (was) the greatest writer in the world. That is saying a lot for a guy that wanted to kill him.

Labels: books, death, pop culture

Anti-seatbelt activist loses his debate. An excerpt:

In a column written for the Daily Nebraskan in September, Derek attacked seat belt laws as intrusions on individual liberties and expensive to enforce. "It is my choice what type of safety precautions I take," he wrote. "There seems to be a die-hard group of non-wearers out there who simply do not wish to buckle up no matter what the government does. I belong to this group."

I wonder if these were Captain Liberty's last thoughts before his head splattered all over the interstate. I wear a seatbelt but not because there is law saying I have to. I buckle up because in the event of an accident, I do not want to exit my automobile at sixty miles per hour skull first through the windshield. Spending my formidable years eating through a straw and having loved ones empty my colostomy bag is not very appealing.

Labels: death, stupidity

In high school I listened to thrash metal almost exclusively. I considered Pantera to be the quintessential hardcore band (even overlooking their three pussy metal albums before the big thrash breakthrough Cowboys From Hell). They took hold of my immature teenage mind and led me to believe that punching people in the face was cool, tattooing "Unscarred" on your stomach illustrated that how tough you were and serenading a lady with the song This Love was the most efficient way to win her heart.* Back then I would have been downtrodden if Phil Anselmo and the boys broke up, but I doubt I would have dealt with my grief by firing six bullets at point blank range into Dimebag's head.

* During my sophomore year I made a mix tape that included This Love for my girlfriend, Crystal. I believed that she would enjoy the song and award me originality points for its placement amongst the cacophony of hair band ballads. Our relationship was over by summer's end (upon my discovery of cheap liquor and loose women) and I assumed the mix tape became a relationship casualty of war. Fast-forward eight years into the future to Crystal's wedding. While dancing with her during the traditional dollar dance, she mentions to me that she still has the This Love mix tape. Yeah, it is that easy.

Labels: death, glory days, music, pop culture

Forty-one years ago today, Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly assassinated John F. Kennedy. Due to the magic of the internet, kids can now relive the moment by participating in an interactive reconstruction from the perspective of Oswald's scope. Mafia/Communists/Government be damned!

Labels: death, history

Rest in peace Ol' Dirty Bastard. We hardly knew ye.

Labels: death, music, pop culture

Lately it seems like a fraternity in Colorado is more like a funeral home (CU and CSU). I think there should be a class in college called Drinking 101 that teaches kids the subtle nuances of alcohol consumption. Here a few topics that should to be on the syllabus:

• When you have lost feeling in your extremities and are blacking out, it is time to put the bottle of schnapps down.
• If you are a young, attractive female you should not drink nor hang out at a frat house. These places are havens for date rape, alcohol poisoning and disease. It would be much cleaner and safer to drink in a construction site port-o-potty with a used dildo.
• Under no circumstances should you participate in any shenanigans with somebody that has passed out; this especially includes placing your testicles on somebody's face and taking a picture. It is called karma and she is a cruel bitch.

Labels: college, colorado, death, drinking

• An angry, sexually frustrated chimpanzee in a Chinese zoo has taken to smoking cigarettes and spitting on people.
• A very intoxicated man and his friend drive home from the bar. The very intoxicated man smashes into a telephone pole and decapitates his friend. The very intoxicated man drives home twelve miles with a headless corpse in the passenger seat, parks the truck in the driveway and passes out in blood soaked clothing. (Disturbing aside: Four people sent me this link today).
• Crazy tirades from the imprisoned Bobby Fischer the former American former world chess champion.

Labels: crazy, death, drinking, link goodness, monkeys, pop culture

Life expectancy is dropping in Africa thanks to the AIDS. In Zambia, 17% of the population has the virus and a child born between 2000 and 2005 can expect to live just 32.4 years. Damn. We need some altruistic condom company to bring relief via free prophylactics. The time is nigh to rubber up on the Dark Continent.

Labels: death, disease

Sometimes life is a kitty being rescued from certain death and other times it is cocaine-induced infanticide in the bathroom of a ramshackle sports bar.

Labels: dead babies, death, drugs, kitty

I was in Boy Scouts for a clip when I was a kid. I received a knife safety badge, a silver medal in the Pinewood Derby and went on assorted nature hikes. I have pleasant memories of my time in Boy Scouts, just as I am sure these youngsters will fondly remember the day they found a severed head at the Scout Jamboree.

Labels: death, nostalgia

There are many ways to kill oneself in a quick, painless manner; this is not one of them. On my list of ways to kill myself, jumping into a pit of crocodiles ranks somewhere between smashing my face in with a brick and sticking my penis into a jet engine. Chug a bottle of sleeping pills. Drink yourself into a coma. Put your head in front of a shotgun, pull the trigger, and splatter your head all over the wall behind you. Jump off of a goddamn building. Hang yourself. Do anything other than throwing yourself into a pit of hungry and agitated crocodiles.

Labels: death, suicide

Today marks the twentieth anniversary of John Belushi's overdose via speedball. The autopsy and police report from that day can be seen here. His last days on earth went something like this:

Belushi sits fat, naked and bloated on the toilet of some random, fleabag hotel in Southern California. He is hanging out with a dirty crack whore who he met the week prior and has been up for the past three days with her mainlining whiskey, pot, coke and smack. "Hey, I got an idea," remarks the junkie whore. "We should start speedballing so we no longer feel the depression of coming down from our high(s) anymore." Belushi agrees. "Great idea. We will be so high. Fix me up! Hijinks ensue.

Labels: death, drugs