THE OFFICIAL FIRST JOKE ABOUT THIRD-RATE PRO BASKETBALL PLAYERS WHO ADMIT THAT THEY ARE GAY

IN HONOR OF THE "COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET" OF SOME WASHINGTON WIZARDS BASKETBALL PLAYER NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD OF, WE PROUDLY PRESENT THE FIRST JOKE ABOUT HIM:

Q: How do you keep a gay Washington Wizards B-Baller from dribbling?

A: Put a condom over him!!

Har de har har....

APROPOS OF ABSOLUTELY NOTHING : CARROT CAKE AND OTHER STUFF

Man, am I ever tired of writing about the Current Resident and murderous Chechens here in America. Maybe I can't do anything about those mooks, but maybe I can bitch about one of the small things that for some reason just irritate the living fuck out of me.


Why the hell is it that whenever you see a slice of carrot cake; for some stupid-ass reason whoever made the shit feels the need to decorate each individual slice with a fucking little bitty orange carrot on the white icing? Nobody makes a litttle angel out of icing for angelfood cake. Ditto no little red pitchfork for devilsfood.


It's really fucking ri-god-damn diculous. The other day, I was in the 7-11 and saw a plastic box with a slice of carrot cake inside. The label clearly said "CARROT CAKE".  So if you like carrot cake then yum fucking yum eat it up. Yet there atop the icing sat a little orange carrot shaped piping of icing.

To me, carrot cake is like rhubarb pie. I can take it or leave it (although I prefer to leave it). Serve me carrot cake and I'll eat it and I won't make disparaging comments. Thanks for the hospitality, etc. So long as you don't do something like put french fried muskrat assholes before me, then thanks. 

But I can't help but wonder if you people who bake and serve and enjoy carrot cake might not be the most insecure people on this planet. It's not enough that everyone knows that it's carrot cake. It's not enough that the packaging clearly says it's carrot cake. There just has to be that little edible carrot symbol on the top.

I have noticed that  a disproportionate number of folks of my acquaintance who love carrot cake seem to be male homosexuals and female nymphomaniacs. Maybe the carrot is a phallic symbol? Or perhaps it's some kind of fertility icon?  Or maybe someone is allergic to carrots, but they don't ice Reese's Cups with a peanut symbol now, do they?

Oh cripes. It just occurred to me that you carrot cake fanatics out there are going to start lobbying for exactly that.  That's another thing about carrot cake. If someone serves you a slice of cake with a little orange carrot decoration on the icing, 99 percent of the time you will be dealing with a liberal Democrat. 

So hey, thanks for the warning.

MARYLAND LIVE! CASINO: DON'T.

I have noticed quite a few people searching  this E-rag for information regarding the new Maryland casino "Maryland Live!". Well, today I had occasion to visit and observe, having taken a pair of ladies to Baltimore-Washington International.  Actually, I had much the same opportunity two days ago, but the gentleman paid me with cash. With his payment I had over three hundred cash in pocket, and I could ill-afford getting caught up in "casino fever" since all of those semoleons had a destination they were due at in a few hours.

 

But this morning was different. And I figured that five AM on a Sunday was probably not a peak gambling period and that table minimums would be dialed back and I could play three hands of ten dollar blackjack OR two hands if the minimum was fifteen.

 

BLACKJACK MINIMUMS STARTED AT FIFTY BUCKS WITH A CAP OF A GRAND. And as I said this on a Sunday morning with a very sparse bettor population.

 

Every other table card game had a minimum of $25. But most of these are games such as 4-card Poker where you have to make an initial bet and then after looking at your hand decide whether to fold (and lose your 25 bucks) or bet one to three times more to continue playing (and possibly lose another 25 ducats - or more). The only two exceptions were "Three Card Poker" with a minimum of fifteen bucks (and if you don't fold you lay down another fifteen smackeroos on the line. It's pretty fast paced, too; and your wallet can get hoovered fast even at a five-dollar 3-card table). That, and baccaraat; with a whopping hundred dollar minimum and a limit on "tie" winnings of $695.00 (Most other places, a tie bet pays 8 to 1)

 

Wow, what an effing clip-joint.

 

Well, out-of-control table minimums can be forgiven if the slots are decent. Maryland Live! has a good assortment at first glance. But for example you cannot just play one line on a nine-payline nickle slot. The machine forces you to play at least "nine credits" or $.45 (forty five cents) per pull of the handle. I will say this much for the joint: At these minimums they can't afford to piss off the Senior Citizen bus-ins too much, so the slots are not all that tight. I wound up wagering and ultimately losing about $27.00, but at one point I could have just left about $80.00 richer.

 

No matter. I had over $250 in credit card reciepts and vouchers that have to be turned in to the cab company before that revenue can be spent, and I still had about $30 cash in pocket when I left. I rather doubt I will be back. If you are the kind of bonehead who actually likes the idea of laying fifty bucks on the line for one hand of blackjack, then by all means stop doing it at Charles Town. Why should you when Maryland Live! is half the distance away and over better roads, to boot?

 

Meanwhile I'll bet Charles Town's "Hollywood Casino" is going to have to start bringing down table minimums due to the competition in Maryland. Guess I'll put in a CD of Flatt and Scruggs playing "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" and hope I don't break down on some damned foggy mountain in a few weeks when I revisit Charles Town with about five hundred bucks on me (and fifteen hundred more where I can't get at it).  I'll let you all know how that works out.

ALEXANDRIA POLICE OFFICER PETER LABOY MAKING SPECTACULAR MIRACULOUS RECOVERY

Back in February we wrote about the shooting of Alexandria Va. motorcycle police officer Peter Laboy during a routine traffic stop. Officer Laboy was shot once in the head with a nine-millimeter round fired from a Sig-Sauer semiautomatic pistol.

 

When Officer Laboy was being attended by the responding EMTs, they did not expect him to survive the helicopter ride to the hospital.

 

But not only did Officer Laboy live, he has recovered to the point that he is walking, talking, and even joking with his fellow cops. Yesterday he was taken to Alexandria police headquarters for a reunion of sorts with his brother and sister officers. We are delighted to report that some of his fellows dare to hope that he will once again saddle up his iron horse and patrol the streets of Alexandria once more.

 

Early this morning, we decided to symbolically honor Officer Laboy by driving straight through seven traffic signals on Patrick street. No, we did NOT "run seven red lights in his honor". 

 

You see, these signals are set so that if driven through at the posted speed limit they will turn green in succession. This is sort of symbolic of what the law in general is supposed to do - to make things flow in an orderly manner. If everyone clips along at the posted limit, no one is inconvenienced by a red light.

 

But there are those who peel out from the first green and do 50 to the next one and slam on the brakes, making everyone else stop behind them. Some of these folks even just ignore the red signals altogether. Peter Laboy and his fellow officers provide the remedy for (in addition to many other things) this situation.  

 

Some time during the weekend, if you live in Northern Virginia and especially if you live in the City of Alexandria, then go out at about three in the morning and head north on Patrick street from Duke. Wait for the first green, set your cruise control for exactly 25 MPH, and sail through green after green until you get to Slaters Lane. (but stop if the signals malfunction and you get a red light!). 

 

And as you marvel at the convenience and expediency supplied by the simple obedience to the law; be  mindful of the fact that this and all the other facets of the order and peace that allow us to function as a society are guarded by such as Alexandria police officer Peter Laboy. We at the Alexandria Daily Poop join his fellow officers in the hope that he will once again patrol our community.   

THE BABY KILLER

Gentle readers, we do wish we could be as prolific as Tucker Carlson (who has actually been a passenger in our taxicab) and have a blog with multiple postings daily on a variety of topics.  But we usually have to be selective and pick out one topic to write about per day, if indeed we can post that much that often.

 

Today we sifted through a number of things, among these the fact  that the surviving Boston bomber is NOT a "tea partier" as the media and the Democrat Party had hoped, but rather was an Islamic extremeist (boy howdy) WHO VOTED FOR OBAMA.

 

However, up in Philadelphia there is a doctor on trial. His name is Kermit Gosnell, and from accounts given at trial he is a soulless and ghoulish butcher of infants. 

 

Yes, we are aware that the "pickled fetus crowd" says that about every abortionist. But Gosnell is - very credibly - alleged to have murdered living fully born infants who survived his attempts to kill them in the womb.

 

There has been testimony about multiple instances of Gosnell using a pair of shears to cut a screaming infant's spinal cord. In one instance it was alleged that a baby was delivered into a toilet bowl and allowed to drown.

 

According to testimony, corpses of infants murdered in this manner were stacked in the very refrigerator used to store employee lunches.  The sanitary conditions in Gosnell's murder factory are alleged to resemble the gore-flecked killing rooms in the "Hostel" movies.

 

The liberal media mentions this case in passing, and if you want to find out the latest information you will have to look through your local paper carefully. We find it strange (or maybe not, maybe entirely predictable) that if some nut kills a score of kids with a rifle, you never hear the end of it; but let some asshole use scissors to kill newborns, with not a shred of feeling for the poor things and not because he is nuts but because that is how he shingles his roof; and the lamestreams just shove it under the rug and tell you that the lump in the floor covering is "nothing". 

 

We feel that we should make our readers aware of the Gosnell trial, and tell others about it.  Google "Kermit Gosnell" and find out what kind of horror is being kept from you in the name of keeping the abortion industry's image "respectable".

 

 

THE BOSTON BOMBING PART IV: CONCLUSIONS

Now that one of the "alleged" Boston Marathon Bombers is dead and the other captured, the murk is beginning to clear and certain conclusions may be drawn.

It is all but certain that these two brothers were NOT part of a larger conspiracy, or at least not a larger conspiracy that has any idea what it or its participants are doing. They had no idea that surveillance is everywhere, and so did not bother to conceal their identities as they did their dirty work. Evidently they thought they could hang around and continue to do their personal interpretation of "jihad" and terrorize the Boston area (and who knows where else). But when their photographs were shown on TV, they immediately knew they would have to get the hell lost. The problem was that they had not prepared for this contingency. Neither had any third party counselled them, because the possibility of capture of a member of the conspiracy could have been catastrophic.

 

Most likely the younger brother was following the lead of his elder, who had been "radicalized" by Islamic "preachers" both in the media here and - likely - by even more virulent elements during a visit "back home". In fact,Russian security had warned the FBI about the elder brother. The handling of this intelligence by the Obama administration was spectacularly inept, and Obama's flunkies are engaged in maximum spin control over this.

 

In any event, the brothers were suddenly confronted with the reality that they would need to flee. Evidently they sought to finance this by hijacking a private car in the parking lot of a convenience store in which they had - again, without disguises - made purchases.

 

After forcing the owner of the hijacked vehicle to draw money out of ATMs, they left him alive on the side of the road. When he contacted authorities, the convenience store surveillance provided even clearer images of the duo. The car was spotted by police and chased into Watertown, MA; where a gun battle ensued that left the elder brother dead. The younger reportedly ran over the body of his dying sibling as he fled.

 

So what happened here?

 

Well, the elder brother became "radicalized". His younger sibling acted in support of his brother for reasons that psychologists know well.

 

But these two are "lone wolf" terrorists. They had no connection to al-Qaeda save that the elder brother was influenced by a Salafist philosophy he picked up on the Internet and brought that influence to bear upon his younger brother. Ironically these two are just the kind of stooges alQaeda seeks to carry out attacks. It's nothing new. These two brothers are what Vladimir Lenin called "useful idiots". And who knows how many more "useful idiots" are waiting in the wings to do death and destruction at the behest of the radicals?

 

Here at the Alexandria Daily Poop, we realize that these two kids' careers in terrorism have been brought to a screeching halt by our brave law enforcement professionals.  

 

These two might be nothing more than idiots. That's the good news.

 

The bad news is that America is chock-full of idiots.  

THE BOSTON BOMBING PART III - SLAP-DASH JOURNALISM

A famous newspaper editor once said he had two rules for his reporters: Get it first, and get it right.

 

 

Today's pack of so-called "journalists" (which include TV and radio reporters) have scrambled headlong after the first rule and have tossed the second right out the window.

 

First, they had a Saudi national "in custody"; then he was being held under guard in the hospital. Then he was "not in custody but he is not being allowed to leave" (WTF?) Then his house was supposedly being searched, next he was "a person of interest" and THEN it turned out - after all this nonsense - that he was never a suspect at all. This is known as the "Groucho Marx school of journalism".

 

Supposedly the cops had found four (or five or six depending on which news channel you were watching or listening to) other devices that had not detonated and had disarmed them. It turns out that no such thing had occurred. This is known as the "Joe Isuzu school of journalism".

 

And remember the third "terrorist explosion" at the JFK Library? The one where black smoke (not white) was pouring out? Whoops. That was just your common everyday electrical fire. This is known as the "Wrong Way Corrigan" school of journalism. (We know Corrigan wasn't a journalist, but then again neither are these "reporters").

 

As we predicted here, the fog of rumor and panic has begun to subside, and more reliable information is coming in. The FBI has recovered surveillance photos identifying a man carrying a satchel that they really want to talk to (the man, of course, not the satchel. The "Journalists" however are trying to get an exclusive with the satchel.)