Humor Archives

Bono to Canada

January 4, 2007 09:35 AM

The Third World encroaches further.

Canada police find head of stolen Ukraine statue

By Cameron French Wed Jan 3

TORONTO (Reuters) - The desire to cash in on soaring copper prices is being blamed for the theft of a bronze statue brought to Canada over 50 years ago to commemorate Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko.

Police recovered the head of the 3-meter (10-foot), two-tonne likeness this week at a metal recycling business just west of Toronto.

They are now hunting for the body, which is estimated to be worth somewhere close to C$20,000 ($17,000) in scrap metal, but has a far greater value to the 1 million strong Ukrainian diaspora in Canada. ...

"We do (see a lot of scrap metal theft)," said Halton Region police public affairs officer Peter Payne.

"But this is the first time in (the area) we've ever lost a valuable piece of metal artwork that's been reduced to scrap. It's pretty unfortunate."

Bronze is largely made up of copper alloys. Copper has approximately doubled in price over the past two years. On Wednesday the copper price in London was $5,855 a ton.

Earlier in December, a 250 kilogram (550 pound) copper statue of Greek mythological figure Atlas was stolen from in front of a metal fabricating company in north Toronto. The statue was later recovered and a man was charged.

Link · History | Humor | Ukraine

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End the Search

October 21, 2006 05:18 PM

Decades may pass before the world is gifted a graf of pitch-perfect self-parody to compare with the following from Mrs. Norman Lear, posted in the HuffPo (where else?). Savor it.

When I asked Gore Vidal at dinner why the White House seemed so serene and at ease about the vote, he replied that, this time around, the Bush-Cheney henchmen could simply call on martial law. He glumly noted that we are so far down the road toward totalitarianism that, even if Democrats do win back the Congress, it would take at least two generations before the last six years of damage to the nation could be reversed. Gore frankly despaired that any amount of time could ever return the country to where and what it previously was. This prediction left me reaching for some Fernet Branca.

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SHHHH

September 19, 2006 01:27 PM

This blog is a regular recipient of stock-scam spam. Today's is my favorite so far.

----- Original Message ---- From: Brendan Dukes To: ethan@room12a.com Sent: Tuesday, September 19, 2006 7:59:18 AM Subject: Tuesday.CRSVF.Waldrop talking to

Hello Brendan,

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Alert: Tuesday, September 19, 2006

________________________________
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Target Price: $2.42
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Buy: "STRONG"

Expectations: Max
________________________________

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the low. Out CRSVF on your
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then 100000$ at once. Better invest 10000$ each trading day. After first day you will see a significant increasement of the stock price and volume.

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Waiting for your response

Sincerely,
Bob Gillahan

How helpful. All that's missing here is the address for turning yourself in to the SEC.

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A firm gesture

April 14, 2006 01:58 PM

About this big, I'd say...

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peace be upon them

February 24, 2006 10:03 AM

Let us pray the cartoon riots don't break up the Super Best Friends. Not while David Blaine still holds the fate of earth in his tyrannical grip!

Thomas Jefferson, Buddha, Jesus and, well, uh....

And next they came for Lemmiwinks....

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Humor Archives

An American Rebel in London

February 11, 2006 09:52 AM

George Clooney reveals his newest screenplay to the Guardian of London:

INT: SUMPTUOUS MALIBU MANSION -- NIGHT

Cocktail party at the home of a very wealthy and powerful industrialist. The finest of everything: LOUIS XVI would not feel out-of-place here. WE CAN HEAR the buzz of noisy conversation, punctuated by sudden bursts of galing laughter. Men clad in tuxedos stand in small clusters about the room, smoking long cigars and chatting amiably. Gorgeous, kittenish women in extravagant floor-length evening gowns weave among the guests, stopping here and there for air-kisses with old acquaintances. White-gloved waiters deliver trays of hors d'oevres and flutes of champagne. OUR ATTENTION IS DRAWN to a photograph, perched prominently on a lamp table, that shows GEORGE W. BUSH shaking hands with a MAN IN A TUXEDO who is presumably this party's host. CAMERA PANS UP from the photo to reveal CLOONEY, surrounded by a knot of inquisitors.

CLOONEY (V.O.)

I was at a party the other night and it was all these hardcore Republicans and these guys are like...

FAT CAT #1

C'mon big Hollywood star, Why do you hate your country?

CLOONEY (WITH SMIRK)

I love my country.

The inquisitors erupt with laughter. WE CAN HEAR scattered mutterings such as "Oh, come on, Clooney" and "Let's be serious here."

FAT CAT #2 (BREAKING IN)

Why, at a time of war, would you criticise it then?

The smirk disappears. Suddenly, CLOONEY looks deadly serious. He wheels to address FAT CAT #2 directly, his eyes flashing rage.

CLOONEY (POINTING AT MAN)

My country right or wrong means women don't vote, black people sit in the back of buses and we're still in Vietnam. My country right or wrong means we don't have the New Deal.

FAT CAT #2, feeling uncomfortable now, looks down at the floor.

CLOONEY (CONT.)

I mean, what, are you crazy? My country, right or wrong? It's not your right, it's your duty. Where was I wrong, schmuck?

A GASP rises from the group. The lecture begins drawing the attention of other guests, who step closer or crane their necks to hear.

CLOONEY (WITH PASSION)

In 2003 I was saying, where are the ties between Iraq and al-Qaida? Where are the ties to 9/11? I knew it. Where the fuck were these Democrats who said, 'We were misled'? That's the kind of thing that drives me crazy: 'We were misled.' Fuck you, you weren't misled. You were afraid of being called unpatriotic.

Silence falls over the group, but only for a moment. As the din of conversation begins to build again in the room, WE CAN HEAR affirmative murmurs, along with phrases such as "He's right, you know," and "It makes sense when he says it," and "If only we had listened."

CUT TO:

EXT: STREETS OF MALIBU -- NIGHT

Still wearing his tux, Clooney roars off into the darkness aboard his Harley, a beautiful gal (CLEARLY REPUBLICAN - luxuriant red hair; fur stoll; diamond earrings) draped over his shoulders. Neither is wearing a helmet....

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