Snake Charmer Not Charming Enough

There is sad news coming out of Malaysia, where a famed snake charmer apparently wasn’t charming enough and got bitten by a cobra.   This would not normally be news, as cobras are endemic to Malaysia and people get bitten by them all the damn time, which really sucks for Malaysians.  

Not an actual ad for Coca-Cola

And this was no normal snake charmer sitting around with a lute and trying to coax the snake back into a basket with Kenny G level slow jams to calm the snake down. That dude could put me to sleep in about ten seconds with his syrupy versions of jazz classics that were as big an affront to music history as was his haircut.  Let’s reflect on that a moment:  what is worse, Kenny G’s rendition of John Coltrane classics (CLICK HERE FOR THE HORROR) , or that haircut. 

What's breathless is me seeing that haircut

No, this cobra murdered the snake whisperer worse than Kenny G murdered John Coltrane’s “In a sentimental mood.”  Here's the real one.   For God’s sake, don’t listen to the Kenny G version ever again after hearing this.

No, Abu Zarin Hussin (pictured above with a real cobra and coke) wasn’t doing this for fun, like the jackass in Florida who imported a king cobra, then let it get on the loose.  

These were natural born cobras that terrorize Malaysia.  Abu Zarin Hussain headed the King Cobra Squad of the fire department. That’s right. They have a King Cobra Squad to deal with actual cobras.  You would think that the State of Florida would have tried to coax him on a sweet free agent contract to deal with all the cobras running around that state.    But they didn’t, and he was still in Malaysia dealing with Cobras every day.  Accordingto the New York Post, he trained other “smoke eaters” to catch the cobras without killing them, where apparently he would let them go, so they could wreak havoc again. 

Instead of delivering a crane kick to the face, which is how everyone knows you deal with the Cobra Kai, as well as ordinary cobras, he tried to talk sweetly to it. 

Cobra about to get a crane-kick to the face

And it bit him in the grill.  That’s cold blooded, because cobras are actually cold blooded creatures, and damn mean.  So, unless you have got Kenny G levels of sweet syrupy, soul-less clarinet, or can deliver a swift crane kick to the face, stay the f*ck away from cobras. 

Radioactive Hogs Take Over Northern Japan - Seek Tribute Paid in Beer

Dear readers of this once-thriving blog, I have been absent for a long while.  I have been writing and editing my second novel, Ghosts of the Mid-Country, which comes out in May.  Read it, for real, when it comes out.  

I have been remiss in not notifying you of the various scourges that wage war on our beloved lands.  The clowns have come and gone – thank God – now that the remake of IT is out of the theaters and into the that deep recess of our collective terror.  Florida does what Florida does and becomes ever more Florida by the passing day – too many Florida things to recount. 

But, the one scourge that will not go away is back on the loose.  It has been hiding in the deep woods, looking for tasty pecans, and for tastier beer.  Not content to let us keep the delicious nectar of the gods for ourselves.  That’s right, the drunken feral hogs are back!!   And they are growing.

CCTV footage in Hong Kong has spotted a giant feral hog who is tall enough to get into dumpsters on its own.

 

They call it Pig-zilla.  It’s farking huge.  Distant cousin of its fallen brethren Hogzilla from Georgia who was taken out before his time.  We thought he was just some relic of the deep woods. And we knew the scourge of the Fukushima Diachi power plant disaster in Japan. And we know what happens when radioactivity hits an otherwise ornery creature. It creates hogzillas for real.  One year ago, it was reported that hundreds of radioactive wild boars had taken over two Japanese towns.

They were not content with those two towns, though.  They have taken over damn near the whole of northern Japan, where the population is older, and was not close enough to the power plant to get their own radiation to fight off the hogs, hulk-style.  Just this last week, the South China Morning Post reported the scourge has moved North in force.  They noted that in southern Japan, “The papers are full of reports of boars in train stations and parking garages, around school dormitories and even in the sea, swimming out to islands.”  They are now in areas that were believed “too cold and snowy for them.”’  They apparently didn’t understand the power of radiation and beer. Radiation that makes a man’s pants turn purple and rips his shoes off every time he gets mad. 

 

They could try to shoot them, but they’re not in rural Georgia where residents are armed to the teeth for the second invasion of the Yankees.  The Japanese have to get a permit to get a gun and shoot a hog, which seems like bullshit.  So no, they can’t be shot, and they can’t be reasoned with when they charge busses like this:

They can’t be reasoned with when they go looking for beer in dumpsters, like this one in Hong Kong.

They can be bribed, or shown fealty, same thing really.  Just give them beer and get out of the way.  

God help us if they get drunk, get mad, and show up in purple pants.

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.