2012 — Your Year in Choads

2012 will be noted in the record books as one of the choadiest years ever. Why oh why would you make such a proclamation, Julia? Not only did we have one of the oddest years in human behavior, but the election shenanigans put the ‘crap’ in craptastic choadiness.

2012 was ugly from day one and it just got uglier and uglier as the year progressed– especially in the political arena. Needless to say, the folks on the following list not only embarrassed us the world over, but they sure did a bang-up job of making the human race look like a big pile of chunk-filled dung. (Note: John Boehner, Rush Limbaugh, Eric Cantor, Mitch McConnell, Bill O’Reilly, Hannity, Newt and the NRA are already in the Choad Hall of Fame, so mentioning them here would be redundant.) The vetting process was brutal and I know I’m missing some choads, but I’m sure they’ll be on my 2013 list.

So, without further adieu and in no particular order, I present to you–my loyal three readers–Your Year in Choads.

The Donald.

(courtesy of examiner.com)

The thrice-married Trump never ceases to amaze me. He inherited millions from his father, then felt the need to continue to dumb down society with his tee vee shows and tomes. He has even sullied my city with a multi-floor steel phallus with great views, and overpriced units. That was a Trump I could live with–out of my league financially and matrimonily–but I never bought into his bullshit so ignoring him wasn’t a chore at all. However, he had to go and ruin it for me and everyone else by opening his fat yap about how the President isn’t a citizen and how the country was robbed during the election (even though Obama won the popular vote) with a series of ill-timed and uber-choady Tweets–which he promptly deleted. Oh and early in the campaign, he was actually a candidate. But, never fear, Trump will be back in 2013, and will be a bigger choad than Donald Trump. Notice how I didn’t even mention his hair?

Sheldon Adelson.

If Citizens United had a dick, Sheldon Adelson should be giving it blowies all the live long day as a thank-you gift. Yeah, I know. I have that image in my mental Rolodex too and I have no idea how to get it out of there. A brain transplant may turn out to be the way to go, and I’d be happy with an Abby Normal-esque brain at this point. The good thing is, Adelson’s attempts to buy the election failed the way the uterus supposedly does when raped legitimately. Ahem. Imagine the good Adelson coulda done with that money had he done something useful, like for instance, help his beloved Israel build a better defense system.

And speaking of legitimate rape, there’s Todd Akin.

I’ll let the magical combo of video and the Internets speak for Mr. Akin (who lost in November–big time–by the way). Akin’s advisers, the “doctors” who told him about how the female body “works”, anyone who has ever hung out with or believed in Akin, well, y’all are choads too.

Nikki Haley

Choads are not limited to men, my friends. Nooo…never. Not only did Gov. Haley NOT consider Stephen Colbert for Jim DeMint’s now-vacate Senate seat, she doesn’t want nuthin’ to do with Obamacare even though her state, South Carolina, is desperate for the help. Like Haley’s fellow GOP governors, she’d prefer to pout and eat worms in the garden because the smart, black guy won AGAIN, and now his monumental, life-saving legislation is truly the law of the land. Basically, she’d rather fuck over her constituents to make a point than help them. That horrid attitude makes her one of the Choads of the Year.

Richard Mourdock.

“Even if life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that is something that God intended to happen.”

(courtesy HuffPo)

He’s rape’s champion and for that, he almost beat Rep. Joe Donnelly in the Indiana race for the Senate.

What’s even more amazing is some woman finds him fuckable.

Personhood Amendments/He-Man Woman Hater’s Club.

It’s safe to say the today’s GOP don’t like us ladyfolk very much. That hatred was evident in the candidates they nominated and the legislation/ballot initiatives that so many states tried to pass, or get on the ballots. Then, there was the kerfuffle over the transnatch ultrasound bill requiring all women in Virginia who wanted an abortion to have this lubed-up wand stuck up their hoo-hahs so they can see what’s dancing on their bladders. The best part? Women have to pay for this humiliation out of their own pockets because Lord knows the GOP doesn’t want to pay for it–hell, they’d rather protect guns than people, see. There are so many anti-woman stories that happened this year that writing about them would cause me to start biting my face again.

But, I’ll give you one more to chew on.   It’s the creme-de-la-creme of choady anti-woman fucked-in-the-head laws that some states in this great country–you know the one that is the most powerful & most advanced in the entire world–seem to love to pass. All of us ladies who still experience menses are pregnant whether we like it or not. That kinda sucks out loud.

Mike Huckabee

Gosh, there is so much that can be spewed about the good Rev. Mike. He’s besties with Chuck Norris, his son likes to kill dogs, he’s has a love/hate relationship with weight loss, he blames gays for all of society’s ills, and a bunch of other assorted treats that are too many to mention.

But, this vidya demonstrates just how choad-a-rrific this man of god really is.

Jan Brewer

(courtesy ABC News)

The weathered, ridden-hard-and-put-away-wet governor of Arizona is the greatest of all lady choads. She loathes people of color, has a pointy-anointy claw that she likes to point at the POTUS; loves guns; probably has nudie pix of Sheriff Joe Arpaio; allegedly shits Coppertone; kicks puppies; has a law that says all bleeding women are pregnant; is considering running for a third term; more than likely believes in Henrietta Pussycat but not climate change; and finally, contrary to popular belief, did NOT star in “There’s Something About Mary.”

Enough is Enough

When it’s easier to get a gun than mental healthcare in this country, it’s time to nuke this place from space and start over.

I’d love to know just how many people (read: CHILDREN) have to die in the name of the oh-so-outdated and UNNECESSARY Second Amendment? Are guns that much more important than a healthy and productive society? Guns have no place in modern society–maybe that’s naive and if it is, fuck you.

The worst part is what happened today in Newtown will happen again and again before Obama and Congress decide to grow a pair and take the gun lobby on. This isn’t a time to cling to your personal rights, this is the time to put down your beloved gun, put on a brave face, and admit that YES, a well-armed society is a doomed society.

This is ridiculous, folks. Twenty children died today along with six adults. Don’t throw that tired, fucked-in-the-head “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people” mantra  at me because it’s thoughtless, cruel and so shit-covered that the even the most hungry of species wouldn’t eat it to save itself. As of this week, concealed-carry is now a go in Illinois. I had such high hopes for my home state–hopes that we weren’t gonna have to watch the paranoia parade that the NRA and its minions have been goose-stepping around this country–take place on my home turf. But it happened and once again, the rights of weaponry trump the rights of humans.

Take a moment and look around you–we live in a society. Sure, there are bad elements here and there–I live in Chicago fer chrissake–which has the highest murder rate so far in the Land of the Free–but does this mean we have to arm ourselves to the rafters because of what MIGHT happen? If you’re that paranoid, take the money you were going to spend on a gun and a license, and pay for some sessions with a psychiatrist. If you still feel the same way about owning a gun because it’s your ‘right’, then you’re ‘brave’ enough to spend some time with a parent who lost a child today and tell him/her why your gun is so important.

Settle? NEVER!

Looks like I’ll be covering this case next month.

It’s a doozy too.

From Justia:

“Eilman, a college student, was arrested outside an airport after behaving so badly that agents had called police. Eilman had developed bipolar disorder following an auto accident the previous year. She had not taken her medication and did not tell the police about her mental-health condition.

By phone, her mother and stepfather told officers about her disorder. They did not believe the stepfather and the officer who talked to her mother did not share the information.

Officers thought that Eilman was being difficult or was on drugs. In custody, Eilman alternated between calm and manic.

Officers released her into a neighborhood she did not know, near a public-housing project with an exceptionally high crime rate without returning her cell phone.

She was raped and either jumped or was thrown out a seventh-story window. She suffered permanent, serious brain damage. In a suit by her guardian under 42 U.S.C. 1983, the district court denied some of defendants’ claims of qualified immunity.

The Seventh Circuit reversed in part, noting that whether police should have understood Eilman’s need for medical care is a factual issue and that police may have made her situation worse by releasing her far from where she was arrested.”

Hmm..I smell the stench of Chicago Police Department cover-up.

I know, perish the thought! Word on the street is that both parties were talking settlement–something to the tune of $100 million. However, it appears that the city of Chicago would rather fight this than settle. Fighting it out hasn’t worked so well for the city in the not-so-distant past. Don’t believe me? Read my coverage of the Anthony Abbate Jr. civil trial at gapersblock.com.

This is a horrible case, but I’ll be there. Stay tuned.

“Blue Wall” torn down — for now

So the verdict for the Anthony Abbate Jr. civil trial was announced earlier this evening in Chicago.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this story, click on the links above and below for more info. Also, if you can stomach it, you can watch the video of the beating below.

Look for my story later on Gaper’s Block.

Lookie here

The McCrabass blog is a distraction for me–it’s fluff, it’s fun–aka it’s mental masturbation.

I consider my blogging as a sort of “Artist’s Way” minus the touchy-feely-I-was-once-married-to-Marty-Scorsese-but-he-dumped-me-so-now-I-write-how-to-books-for-wannabe-artists-aka-bored-housewives –but with box wine, chocolate and Bikram yoga. Oh and dark purple highlights and buttloads of salty language.

Simply put, I’m a writer who blogs for fun. I’m not into that brand-building bullshit. (Side note: what the fuck is branding anyway? Why are we supposed to brand ourselves to each other? What the fuck does it have to do with the price of eggs? It doesn’t help people get meaningful work, believeyoume. It’s basically a bullshit term made up by marketers. You’re only a brand if you’ve been heated up on the range where the deer and the antelope play, and used to tap some livestock ass.)

When I’m not thinking up and composing posts, I’m writing my book and looking for a gig. That type of writing is my true calling, along with journalism which I happen to do quite well when given the opportunity.

The following list is made up of folks who are great writers and use their blogs to display their dog-given talent. Some days they write more than on others by using words and images–or just words or just images–kinda like yours truly here. I’ve been reading these folks for a long time now and I suggest you check ‘em out. They write to write, not for the nebulous glory of Internet awards but because they love writing. Oh, and they all have something to say which is the mostest important aspect.

I’m not going to write up brief descriptions of their work because you need to do your own heavy lifting. You won’t regret it either.

In no particular order, if you may …

Reinventing the Event Horizon

Squathole

Lame Adventures

The Learned Fan Girl

Marguerite Darlington

The Musings of a Storyteller

Lloydville

Jonathan Turley

Rufino Cabang

CREW

UnfetteredBS

Robert Loerzel

Adventures By Kim

Violet Blue (NSFW)

Love Letters Are Dying

Herlander-Walking

Learn ‘em, know ‘em, love ‘em.

Concession Speechless

Now that Mitt Romney is a footnote in presidential campaign history, more info is coming out about his last few hours of his campaign. For example, he didn’t have a concession speech prepared–and it showed. Turns out, he believed the swill that was coming out of the right wing noise machine, and didn’t feel it was necessary to compose TWO speeches. We’ve all seen his concession speech–I use it as an insomnia cure by playing it on a loop with “Lawrence of Arabia.” He probably composed that little ditty on a spare pair of magic knickers whilst the Secret Service was high-tailing it out of there, and whilst Ann was cancelling campaign workers’ credit cards. Luckily, we have a copy of his, ahem, “victory” speech for our viewing pleasure.

Now, my fave part of this whole shock and awe that has hit the Romney campaign is the fact that the President Romney transition website went live for a short while yesterday. Nice to know that he was really planning on fucking over people by getting rid of the ACA, or by cutting it so much that you probably would lose your house if you got castrophically ill and your regular insurance wouldn’t cover your treatment. Yeah, he’s a real fucking patriot, and it’s so presidential to actually want to fuck over half the country.

(courtesy techpresident.com)

He paid $25k for it too.

(courtesy politicalwire.com)

I have some friends who voted for Romney and I am sorry for their loss. I do and don’t get why they voted for him, just like I’m sure they feel the same way about me and my vote. While Obama ain’t perfect, he’s the one who will keep this country moving onward by not fucking over women, minorities, and the poor with archaic policies that will be headed up by folks like Allen West (“Secy of Defense”) and John Bolton (Secy of State). Of course, those are satirical choices, maybe these are closer to the truth. But, the idea of Scott Walker makes me realize that maybe these possibilities are Onion-esque too.

Only time will tell. You can find me at the bar if you need me.

 

 

And now, a story about a clown …

Now here’s a trial I wouldn’t mind covering. But, I’d be thrown out due to all of the giggling I would inspire with my sotto voce remarks.

Police: Clown tried to solicit sex at rest area

Some story highlights:

“Vosolo was wearing only thong underwear when Caranfa approached. Vosolo was arrested and charged with indecent exposure, assault and battery, failure to stop for police, a marked lanes violation, and disorderly conduct. According to police, he allegedly grabbed the truck driver after entering his cab.

A search of Vosolo’s vehicle resulted in the seizure of several sex toys, Halloween masks and head lamps. He is expected to be arraigned today at Newburyport District Court. According to state police, Vosolo has no previous convictions.”

A clown wearing a thong? Hey, I know I wouldn’t have it any other way. A head lamp? What–is he stealing my act now?

I’ll let the rest of this story wash over your whilst I get ready for another day of the ex-cop beats up bartender trial.

Who knew that clowns have to pay for sex? It is true–you *do* learn something everyday!

Trial notes, Days 1 & 2

I must admit that it IS nice spending time in a courtroom where I am not the center of attention. Ahem.

For those of you who are just tuning in, I’m covering the Obrycka vs. The City of Chicago and Anthony Abbate Jr. civil trial for Gaper’s Block. So far, it’s been challenging, frustrating and shitloads of fun. To answer your next question, as a matter of fact I DO have a twisted idea of what fun is.

During my time sitting on a hard bench in a cold courtroom, I’ve noticed a few things:

Journos are fucking RAUNCHY as hell (yes I knew this, but experiencing it in person is completely different). I sat next to two well-respected female journos and what they were uttering to me under their breaths about the trial made me blush. I had to disguise a couple of laughing fits with coughs. Fortunately, most of the people in the courtroom are illin’ so my ruse fooled no one.

With the exception of a few folks, including the judge presiding over the trial and her staff, those who work in the courthouse have this death-warmed-over pallor about them. I didn’t want to make direct eye contact with any of the older courtroom denizens for fear that I’d disappear in a puff of smoke.

All courtrooms need a drink cart for the observers. And a cake cart.

All courtrooms should have an actual court jester. The jester should distract the courtroom during sidebars, lead the jury in and out of the jury box the way a band leader guides a marching band, and highlight objections with a jig.

I could wear judge robes all the damn time. Think about it, you know this is a grand idea. You wouldn’t have to wear anything underneath it or you could wear whatever you wanted to. Me? I’d wear pajamas or sweats and Hooters t-shirts. Or, better yet, one of those obnoxious “Porn Star in Training” t-shirts because when you’re wearing a judge’s robe who says you have to display grace and class underneath it all.

Finally, I keep waiting for the attorneys to treat the witnesses as hostile. I wanna see sobbing on the stand. I wanna see the smug look on an attorney’s face after he or she makes a witness weep and wheeze. Also, I wanna see the judge bang her gavel so hard it breaks and hear her bellow “ORDER IN THE COURT OR I WILL CLEAR THIS COURTROOM!” Finally, I’m waiting for the judge to utter one of my fave smart-ass tee vee judge lines “You’d better be going somewhere with this, counselor.”

I’m only in week one of three, so there’s still a possibility that one of my hopes will be realized before the jury delivers the verdict.

Until then, check out my first installment here.

(courtesy somecamerunning.typepad.com)

The 4th estate called.

And I answered, although I’m not getting paid.

My blogging will be on hold for bit since I’ll be covering the civil trial of Karolina Obrycka vs. The City of Chicago and Anthony Abbate, Jr., hopefully for a local online site Gaper’s Block.

For those of you unfamiliar with the case, back in February 2007, Obrycka was a tending bar, and believed that Abbate was over-served so she cut him off. Instead of realizing that she was correct, he gave her quite the beat down. Horrible, considering Obrycka maybe weighs 120lbs and Abbate is what Central Casting would send on a casting call for dumb, lummox Chicago cop. I’m sure you know the type.

Oh, and the best part? The entire beating was caught on tape.

Abbate was tried, convicted (um, only probation–welcome to Chicago!) and lost his job, but he still gets to keep his pension (again, the Chicago way. Google Jon Burge for more fun tales!). The trial I’ll be covering is Obrycka’s suit against the city. Money doesn’t appear to be the great motivator here since she’s only asking for a cool mil, but what appears to be at stake here is the CPD’s infamous Code of Silence, and how this code hampered the police report. Should be interesting.

I may drop little tidbits on here during the next couple weeks if I find something interesting during my stint in the Federal Courts Building, or whatever else tickles my fancy.

Until then, stay tuned to Gaper’s Block and Twitter. Thanks!

Religion & [th]ugh

I’d rather walk on my lips than criticize anyone else’s religious practices (unless they’re particularly heinous), but something must be said about how stinkin’ weird this ritual is.  From The Telegraph:

Briton arrested with roasted human foetuses for use in black magic ritual

A British man has been arrested in Thailand after being found with six foetuses that had been roasted and covered in gold leaf as part of a black magic spirit ritual.

So, some people believe that roasted fetuses, or I mean foetuses, covered in gold leaf no less will bring them wealth and good luck. Guess cuz it’s on the Internets it must be true, correct? I had no idea that feetusses — or however you spell it — would bring such wonderful things to those who shelled out shitloads of cash. In the scheme of things, this doesn’t surprise me in the least.

What chaps my hide is the spelling of “foetus”– when I see it spelled all British n’ shit. My mind sees, then pronounces it as “foe – tuss”– just like how it pronounces “Phoebe”, “Foe – bee.” See what they did there? Come to think of it, Phoebe’s Foetus is a great band name.

Six in one, I guess. But, why to the Brits have to go and fuck up our language so damn much?

Limey wangs.

Now, I don’t know if I want to scrub, smack, smoke, laugh at, bail out, shake my head at, tattoo, de-tattoo, introduce my mom to, make him lick my boots, have him shave my armpits, make secksy time/hang out/talk politics/watch porn with OR marry Lil Wayne. Quite the quandary I know.

(courtesy of live.drjays.com)

See what I mean?