Rick James is Risen! Rick James needs some cash

Rick and Snoop

In what is either a sure sign of the coming rapture, or a sign that bad hair braids are coming back into style – and that hipsterism has officially gone too far – a dude who looks just like Rick James has robbed a bank in Indiana.  He was with Snoop Dog, dressed as Superfly.  You doubt me, loyal reader?  See below. 

Sign of the end-times, one way or another

There isn’t anything else for the story, right now.  It’s still developing.  Either Rick James has been resurrected, or braids with plastic beads on the end have been resurrected.  I’m not sure which is more scary, or which portends the end times.  Probably the latter.  God help us all if beaded braids are back.

Feral hogs: we take their beer, they narc on our weed and enjoy a sweet, stinky bonfire

Feral hogs, that scourge on our land.  They have been known to eat endangered species.  They tear up agricultural land, to the tune of $500 million per year in Texas alone. And they steal our beer.  

No longer confined to beer theft

Since word got out last year about the feral hog beer-poaching menace, it is presumed that loyal readers around the world have been heeding our call to lock up your beer, to say nothing of your endangered species.  Beer is not endangered, like a red-cheeked salamander, but it is arguably more precious to mankind.   (PETA people, this blog is partly satire. Don’t go eco-terror on my house.  My little dog will bite your tree hugging, salamander petting asses). But, let’s be serious, beer is more precious than salamanders, no matter the color of their cheeks.  And the hogs had been going after our beer with impunity until we locked that sh*t down.

So now, the hogs have struck back.  They have gone in league with The Man and ratted out a massive grow operation.  Texas game wardens - who don’t need a warrant to come onto your property to look for evidence of poached game were led to the 6,500 pot plants on Wildlife Management by hog hunters, who were led by the hogs, to the massive grow operation. 

The Man, taking down the grow

It is an open question whether the hogs were ratting out this stash to The Man, or were offering up a peace treaty with north Texas hog hunters, and the hunters were, in fact, straight-edge.  The hunters, however, may have misplayed their hand. We all know that beer is marching fuel.  Whiskey makes you get all stabby. Weed, however, makes you chill. When have you ever heard of someone toking up, for medicinal purposes or non-medicinal purposes, and just tearing sh*t up, like hogs do when they get a hold of a six-pack of double-deuce cans of brew.  No, the hogs would have munched away, tried to start a fire, though they have no thumbs, and then chilled out.  The hunters, if they were blood thirsty, could have killed all the hogs they wanted if the hogs had been high.  Hogs are smart, though, crafty smart.  And as we discussed, they have no thumbs with which to light a spliff.  They likely knew that The Man, when he finds a massive grow operation, will dig a pit and burn it. 

Prepping the great weed bonfire

So, I’m applying Occam’s Razor, and calling them narcs. Narcs who led hunters to the grow operation knowing that The Man would start a bitchin' bonfire.  I’m betting five that the hogs were congregating in the woods and breathing deep.  They have an incredible sense of smell, which was likely well-used.  

(Bottom two photos courtesy of Dallas Observer, astute co-chronicler of the scourge of our porcine menace). 

Fat shamer gets shamed by moderatly portly guy

So this bleach-bottle blond with a pink highlight chick who is a Youtube sorta-superstar decided to rustle up some click-bait and posted a seven minute fat-shaming video.  She claimed victory when she "broke the internet."   No, Youtube broke its foot off in your ass and shut you down.

Then Shawn Halpin, the aformentioned moderately portly guy, split-screen slapped you down with the response video. 

Hat-tip to Shawn Halpin. (some salty language here).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=366&v=tpJ0Z0gddo4.

Click the link.  For real.

It’s all fun and games until the Cobra gets loose

A cobra is on the loose. Seriously, a cobra.  Not Cobra, from GI Joe. Not some fake kung-fu jokers from the Cobra Kai who would have allegedly “owned the Karate Kid’s broke ass with few, if any hits.” Urban Dictionary, you’re wrong here.  We watched those broke-ass Cobra Kai fools get schooled by Mr. Miyagi, then eat a crane kick to the grill.  (It’s worth watching again).  No, we’re talking about a real king cobra.  Mother f**king snakes in a mother f**cking neighborhood. 

 

this is not a pet, for real

This latest renegade cobra is, not surprisingly, in Florida.  A place so friendly to snakes that they are allowed to surf.   A place so friendly to snakes that they have multiplied and are fighting the alligators. This ain’t no Burmese Python taking up residence in the Everglades.  This is a king freaking cobra tooling around Orlando, where, honestly, there are plenty of other tools on the loose, but this one is a cobra.

An eight foot long yellow and green cobra, which got loose.  Lest you worry about the state of government affairs in central Florida, this one had a permit.  Or rather, its owner had a valid permit to keep the cobra as a “pet” and “officials say the owner is an experienced snake handler.”  You read that right, Florida has decided that eight-foot venomous snakes are pets.  And this tool was experienced at handling snakes.  Of course, this happened near an elementary school.

Let’s let that sink in.  Then let’s ask a few questions for our friends in Florida:

       1.  What the hell else is considered a pet in Florida?

2.  What kind of a tool becomes an experienced snake handler?

      3.  Why isn’t there some sort of experienced snake handler registry, much the same as a sex offender registry so we could at least know who among us – well, who among Floridians – lives next to a freaking cobra?

 4.  Why are cobras – permitted pets or not – allowed to be handled near elementary schools?

If there is a snake handler registry, and I lived near a cobra, I can assure you that I would line my yard with diesel fuel to keep the snakes out, and line this snake handler’s yard with diesel and keep a lighter handy if the snake got outside.

To be fair, this is not just a Florida problem.  Yes, even in my fair, genteel, cosmopolitan city of Houston, some tool let a cobra out into the hallway of a downtown apartment building.  .  Yes, to my great shame, Houston had this happen before Florida. 

As far as I know, there is no pet permit for king cobras in Houston.  You can apparently get a pet permit in Texas for venomous snakes, but not keep them in Houston.  Our fair legislature may need to address this. As for the Houston cobra, animal control put the snake down.  Animal control actually said this: "I made the decision to go ahead and euthanize the snake. It is unfortunate for the snake and it's not something that we wanted to do. But I felt the need that it needed to be done," said Moss. 

Moss, there is nothing unfortunate about killing a cobra that is wandering the halls of a downtown loft.  This comment come back to the earlier thesis, what kind of tool thinks that keeping a cobra as a pet is cool.  You can’t throw it a ball.  You can’t walk it.  You can’t pet it, and if you do, you deserve what you get. 

If all for live and let live, but not as it comes to cobras, or frankly, other venomous snakes. 

What may have actually happened here is that Florida decided that Texas couldn’t get a leg up on all the crazy and it had to step, or slither, in.

So, let ‘s get back to the main points: (1) there is no way that the Cobra Kai were going to own the Karate Kid’s ass, they had their chance and took a crane kick to the grill; (2) there is no reason to keep a cobra as a pet; (3) there needs to be a cobra-owner registry; and (4) Florida will take on anybody else’s crazy and kick it’s ass like a crane kick to the grill.