Apparently, New York City has lost love for its former mayor, Rudy Giuliani, along with the rest of the United States. As personal attorney to Faux-President Donald Trump, Giuliani has found himself in the unenviable position of defending his psychopathic client. How sad. Giuliani’s staunch leadership during the horrific 09/11 cataclysm got him dubbed as “Mayor or America.” Now, he’s like a neophyte lawyer handling public drunkenness charges.
Recently, a series of mock posters have been appearing on New York City subway’s noting (emphasizing) Giuliani’s tragic descent into madness.
As competition for the never-ending Darwin Awards heats up, we have a new entrant from Canada. An unidentified 62-year-old woman apparently decided to try the new trend of “vaginal steaming”; whereupon the participant sits over a steaming-hot bowl of water mixed with herbs to provide intense thermal pelvic cleaning for the female of our species. I can only assume this new-age ritual is meant to expunge the feminine soul of various and sundry evils: bacteria, unhealthy enzymes and memories of yoga gone wrong. But gynecologists warn that “v-steaming” – their term, not mine – is not necessarily healthy and actually is potentially dangerous.
Moreover, the victim in this case ended up at a local emergency room with second-degree burns to her cervix and vaginal membranes, according to a report from the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of Calgary. No word on if she drove herself there, or had to be airlifted. The report also indicates this is the first documented incident of burns incurred by v-steaming.
And you, dear readers, thought only men did stupid shit to
their nether regions! Either way, this gives
new meaning to the term “burning bush”.
Another candidate for the Darwin Awards has surfaced in Berlin. Danny Polaris thought he’d make a recent night out one he wouldn’t forget. So took a Viagra and, after an evening of partying, went home with a nurse he met out at some club (I suspect). There, his new “friend” decided to up the excitement and inject Danny’s penis with some kind of still-unknown “stimulant”. Polaris says he felt fine – until a few days later when he realized he’d developed a painful condition called priapism. This is one of the unspoken medical anomalies that urologists and the Roman Catholic Church have warned men about for years.
As of August 11, Polaris is still in the hospital, still applying ice packs to his genitalia, reading the Bible, listening to tapes of old women talking about the “not so fresh feeling” and avoiding the Cartoon Network. No relief appears in sight. He seems to have no shame in going public with his ordeal and has even detailed his trauma on Instagram. Friends have also set up a page on the Go Fund Me network to help pay for his treatment and rehabilitation. I really don’t want to know what “rehabilitation” would mean in this case.
All I can say now is just don’t ask him what’s
I’ve lived in the Dallas, Texas metropolitan area all of my life and have seen more than a few oddities. But, on the morning of July 22, a driver captures this fool locomoting down I-35E into downtown Dallas. Sadly, it can mean only one thing: we have yet another Darwin Awards candidate.
Nothing says Christmas like evergreen trees, candy canes, strings of colorful lights, ginger bread-spiced Xanax and kids screaming in terror while perched on Santa’s lap. The latter is particularly reminiscent of those times when you feel the yuletide holiday brings out the best in people. As these photos indicate, that’s just not true. Yes, it’s that glorious time of the year. Merry Christmas, all you little fuckers!