A really bad day for some guy's penis.

This link is from tbird and I can't believe I missed it the first time around.  Let's get right to the meat of things, shall we?  Bridget Harris lured her father to her apartment, handcuffed him to a chair, stuffed a rolled up towel in his mouth, then took a scalpel and cut off his wangdangdoodle.  Bridget is about to be sentenced for manslaughter (shouldn't that be manhood slaughter?) as pappy Harris died from suffocation.  A merciful death if you ask me.  Life without my giggle stick?  No thank you.

And now the best part.  Bridget, who apparently fancies herself a cross between Lorena Bobbit and Rachel Ray put poppa's peter in a pan and sauteed it because she wanted to be sure it couldn't be reattached.  (It can happen.  Check out John Wayne Bobbit's short-lived porn career starring in Frankenpenis.)  Mission accomplished since it was probably a race between Daddy No-Dick running out of air or out of blood.  Suffocation or exsanguination either way equals expiration.

One thing you can say about Bridget Harris.  She's no cock tease.

When it comes to the baloney pony she's all business.

At trial Bridget told tales of rape, incest, etc. and said in retrospect she should have taken the towel out of daddy's mouth before he up and died.  Can you imagine the screams that are buried in that towel?  Youch!  As a side note she mentions maybe going to the authorities regarding the abuse might have been a good idea.  Ya' think?

The article states that while in jail Bridget listens to other prisoner's woeful tales of parental sexual abuse.  (Innocents all, I'm sure.)  When not doing that she read mysteries and vampire stories.  What is a mystery is why you would give Bridget books about teeth sinking into human flesh and sucking blood.  Do we really want to give Bridget any more bright ideas?

Tonight on Cooking with Bridget and Hannibal.  

Pork penis served with Fava Beans and a nice Chi-aaanti.

Died on this date:

Bobby Hatfield

Singer

Aug. 10, 1940-Nov. 5, 2003

(Age 63)

Bobby Hatfield was the tenor half (Bill Medley was the baritone half) of the 60's duo The Righteous Brothers.  The Righteous Brothers had a string of hits until their break-up in 1968.  They reunited for another hit in 1974 titled (ironically) Rock and Roll Heaven.

Bill and Bobby teamed up again and were on the road doing the oldies circuit when Bobby was found dead in his hotel room in Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Death was initially reported as a heart attack, but the official coroner's report revealed that Bobby died of Acute Cocaine Toxicity.  Folks, to still be doing blow at age 63 is not a recipe for longevity.

I was lucky enough to watch The Righteous Brothers from backstage at a show in Columbus, Ohio in 1967.  Talented guys.  Good live act.

Bobby had an amazing tenor voice.

Ladies and Gentlemen....

Mr. Bobby Hatfied

Mammy...how I loves 'ya, how I loves 'ya, my dear ol' mammy.

If Rush Limbaugh is too racially insensitive to co-own an NFL franchise what are we to make of this?  Dallas Cowboys cheerleader Whitney Islieb not only dresses up in blackface for Halloween, the dumb-as-a-bag-of-hammers blonde...you know what's coming, folks... posts the photos on her Facebook page.  And, uh-oh, CONTROVERSY!!!!  According to the story she was paying homage to some rapper with the sobriquet Lil Wayne, whom Google tells me is on his way to the jug for a year after pleading guilty to a weapons charge.  (His rap sheet also lists numerous narcotics arrests.)  So when you think about it, Whitney was only trying to pick the scariest costume her little pea brain could come up with.

Whitney on the left in her business attire.  

Whitney on the right making a drunken fool out of herself.

A pre-Dallas Cheerleading photo of Whitney Islieb I found while Googling.  Posted for no other reason than the reptilian part of my brain keeps mulling over the possibilities.  

A few random FG thoughts.

Has anybody ever done a study on how much tax money is spent on incarcerated rappers?

This will all blow over because a crazy American muslim army guy killed 12 of his fellow soldiers today.

This will not blow over because it gives the media lots of opportunity for cheerleader cheesecake.  (The Funeral Guy understands and endorses this position.  Or any position with a cheerleader come to think of it.)

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton are busy mau-mauing somebody else and it will all blow over.

Or Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton have nothing productive going on as usual and will jump up and down and bang their spoons on their highchairs about this.  In which case, Whitney will be gone by Monday, because dumb blonde cheerleaders are a dime a dozen.

The Funeral Guy has the view that white people in blackface is not inherently racist, but wise people avoid it.

Take the lesson of Al Jolson.  Al was a talented and much celebrated entertainer with a legendary career.  He's been dead almost 60 years now and when his name is mentioned all anybody thinks about is this.

On a personal note: With Sadness We Announce the Passing of...

Molly the Cat

1998-Nov. 5, 2009

(Age 11)

Molly.  A cat who will have no problem resting in peace.

Molly held a special place in my heart.  When my ex-wife and I separated I wanted a pet for my daughter to play with when she would stay with me at my new apartment.  We tried a bird, but frankly, I dislike birds.  They're messy, noisy and I don't feel any warmth from their cold black eyes.  So off to a friend went the bird.

One Saturday my daughter and I were looking around the cat rescue at the pet store and there was Molly.  She was about 6 months old with nothing special to recommend her, just your run-of-the-mill grey tabby.  My daughter picked her because she was afraid Molly was so ordinary that nobody else would take her.  My girl is like that I'm proud to say.

Molly turned out to be the most rambunctious kitty I'd ever seen.  She would literally bounce around the furniture like a kid with attention deficit disorder after a bag of Halloween candy.  Thankfully, she calmed down as she grew older and when I remarried Molly blended along with the rest of our two families benevolently accepting dogs and cats and kids.

Molly never met a lap she didn't like, and had an unerring instinct for knowing when your bladder was full before leaping onto to it full force.   She was especially fond of mine when I was wearing dark pants or it was an intolerably hot day.  Molly had two unnerving looks.  The one she wore most of the time was that of someone who was witnessing a murder.  Another was the one that some cats do that make you want to look over your shoulder so you can catch a glimpse of the ghost that's surely there.  One of the things that was unique to Molly that I'd never seen in another cat was that she loved to be vacuumed. When the vacuum got turned on Molly would run out to sprawl and roll so Mrs. Funeral Guy wouldn't miss a single spot.

Molly and Mrs. Funeral Guy after a vigorous vacuuming.

About a month ago Molly reappeared after one of her frequent in-house vanishing acts.  Mrs. Funeral Guy picked her up and saw that she was alarmingly thin.  So off to the vet she went where after some x-rays and tests we were told that Molly had one underdeveloped kidney and one deformed kidney.  A genetic problem and a cause of infections, the vet said.  Molly seemed to rally after a round of antibiotics but when they were finished she was back to laying around listlessly and vomiting 2 or 3 times a day.  After a couple of days on the second round of antibiotics she couldn't even keep those down, so today it was back to the vet for the inevitable.  Quiet and peaceful as these things always are.  We should all be so lucky, I suppose.

Molly was a fine cat, and as the British say, "she had a good innings."  She'll be missed.

Survived by her family and her animal friends.  (Dogs) Cosmo, Crystal, Sadie and Spike.  (Cats) Katie and Winky.  (Ferrets) Belle and Boomer (2-Birds) Don't know their names and don't want to know.  And a snake (don't ask.)

Showing up at your own funeral. Just like Tom Sawyer.

I've had three or four emails alerting me to this story.  (I can't imagine why.)  I'm always a little dubious of these ones that come out of the third world press, but stranger things have happened I guess.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who's fantasized about being the fly on the wall at his own funeral.  Be great, wouldn't it?  Everybody crying.  Listening to eulogies where your praises are sung to the heavens.  All that good stuff.

And that is what happens most of the time.  Not speaking ill of the dead is a time honored tradition, but occasionally gets tossed over the side if the grievance of a survivor is strong enough.  I've heard some remembrances at services that were thinly (and not so thinly) veiled paybacks for hurts and slights that made me think, "Ooooh, things are going to be a little chilly at the reception after this little lemon squeeze."

Lesson:  Be nice to your family and friends.  Tears are better at a funeral than people talking shit about you.

Update: The Horse Diddler, off to the graybar hotel.

Read all about it.

Rodell Vereen.  Who said that the old gray mare 
she ain't what she used to be?

Funny.  I always had horse fucking pegged as a white guy crime.

My thoughts when Rodell was first arrested are here. 

Dems take a shellacking.

Two biggest lies of the night.

1) This has nothing to do with Obama or his policies.

2) According to Robert Gibbs "(Obama's) not watching the returns."

If the President of the United States is not watching the returns of an election that everyone's been talking about for months, it's only because he's out in back of the White House smoking about three packs of these wondering what the fuck happened.

Baby missing in Florida of all places. How could this happen? Country in stunned shock.

Baby Shannon Lea Dedrick has been reported missing. 

This is a no-brainer.  She's been taken back home by her real parents.

Another patch on that beautiful, diverse quilt we call multi-cultural America.

Noor Faleh Almaleki, 20, died today of injuries received two weeks ago when she was run over by an automobile.

Noor Faleh Almaleki.  Rest in Peace.

Happens every day so why is this a story?  Because Noor is an Iraqi immigrant who was run over by her own father, Faleh Hassan Almaleki, for the crime of becoming too "westernized."  Noor was living with her boyfriend and his mother, who was also injured in the attack.  She is expected to survive.  These "honor killings" are happening in America more and more.  Nothing to do with Islam says CAIR and all the other muslim apologists.  They all just happen to be muslim women killed by male muslim family members.  Nothing to see here, Columbo.

There really isn't a lot left to say about this except isn't Faleh also a little westernized?  If his sorry ass had stayed in that third world dirt puddle of Iraq he would have had to have used a camel to run over his daughter.  Against a Jeep Cherokee that he got in the good ol' US of A, she didn't stand a chance.

Faleh Hassan Almaleki.  A father not worthy of the name.  

A rope would look good around his big, fat neck.

Seriously, this shitbag should be hanged, forthwith.  And we have to get serious about keeping barbarians out of America.  If you pyschopathic muslim bullies don't want your families to become westernized.  Stay the fuck out of our country.

Died on this date:

Eva Cassidy

Singer

Feb. 2, 1963-Nov. 2, 1996

(Age 33)

When Eva Cassidy died her death went virtually unnoticed outside of her native Washington, DC/ Maryland area.  Four years later the BBC played her version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow and the response was so great a compilation of her music was put together and Songbird was the result.

If you've never heard Eva Cassidy sing, pick up Songbird or anything else by Eva.  You will not be disappointed.  She was an amazing talent with a serenely beautiful voice.

One can only imagine the musical accomplishments that would have been had Eva Cassidy not left us way too soon.

From complications of cancer.

Ladies and Gentlemen...

Miss Eva Cassidy