By CHRIS PACKHAM
My house was confiscated by the Downtown Improvement District last Monday. It turns out that there's a little-known constitutional power laid out by America's powdered-wig-wearing founding fathers, which is known today as Tom Clancy's Right of Eminent Domain, because
The Man — as seen in country clubs and Republican Party fundraisers — can take what's yours Without Remorse via Executive Orders in the event of a Clear and Present Danger and just give it to somebody else. I'm a rebel, and I reject your precious rules, but that means nothing to a phalanx of armored lawyers backed up by teams of bulldozers that are already idling amid clouds of diesel exhaust.The state is required to pay fair market value for confiscated property, but last year I dumped some barrels of oil and various toxins on the lawn in order to get on that sweet, sweet Superfund Cleanup gravy train. So payment of "fair market value" turned out to be presenting me with an enormous bill for polluting what had just become the property of the city of Kansas City. Now that oil is up to $142 a barrel, I'm wishing I'd held on to a few of those barrels I dumped in the yard so I could sell them on eBay.
Now I'm trying to convince my girlfriend to buy a scooter, because gas prices are going to skyrocket, and also because I want to ride around on it when nobody's looking. After the jump, other embarrassing tips for surviving the coming economic collapse — click here, here or on this picture of Tom Joad wearing a fanny pack:
The .244 Holland & Holland Magnum has a high muzzle velocity. But then so does my dick: The Supreme Court has affirmed the right of individual Americans to own guns, effectively overturning Washington, D.C.'s 32-year-old ban on handguns. What is there to say, other than that violent gun deaths are just the collateral damage of the Bill of Rights? There will be blood, you guys. I'm totally serious about that — just as the First Amendment results in horrible shit like the availability of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion and Dane Cook's Harmful If Swallowed, and the Third Amendment against the quartering of troops results in tons of homeless veterans panhandling at the Broadway Bridge, the Second Amendment has consequences, such as dad's tendency to keep his loaded handgun hidden in the closet behind his stacks of old Playboy magazines — y'know, where nobody will ever go looking for it.
ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOOOOOTBAAAAAALL? I don't write about sports. Or, if you can recall a specific instance in which I did write about sports, it was an accident and I can't remember it. In my opinion, the simple statement that Fox 4 sports anchor Frank Boal resembles Idaho Sen. Larry Craig does not constitute writing about sports, or even knowing much about it:
Also, it doesn't take Arthur Ashe Courage Award-winning late sportscaster Howard Cosell to realize that the resemblance is more pronounced when they wear matching berets:
And that's about as far as Daily Briefs sports coverage goes. Mostly, sports involves a lot of jargon I don't really understand, like listening to truckers talk on the C.B. And it's no coincidence that all the cool-sounding terminology, like "quarterback," has been reduced by contemporary sports announcers to initials such as "QB". The barrier to entry is just way too high, like speaking French or enduring a jazz performance.
However, as we've mentioned before, The Pitch now hosts a sports blog called Small Market Scribblings, "anchored" by Chris Rasmussen, who, in addition to having a supersexy first name, has spent his lifetime absorbing all world knowledge about sports and then disgorging that information, sometimes over lunch, sometimes in the direction of innocent bystanders who have no idea what he's talking about. Small Market Scribblings is a healthy outlet for his occasionally Tourette-syndrome-like tendency to spasmodically emit sports-related data and a destination of choice for anyone annoyed by my lack of sports commentary. Click here or on two-time ESPY Award-winning logo, the Small Market Scribblings logo:
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Wow. Jackasses picking on the Briefs. I've been wanting to voice a complaint myself, lately, about two important deficits.
1. No E. Thomas McClanahan lately. I'm sure he's posted something ridiculous about how Obama eschewing public financing is some kind of betrayal of the public's trust, which is a perfectly consistent conservative argument considering they're such big goddamn fans of public financing in the first place.
2. Never any Bill Shapiro jokes. I know public radio's cheaply produced, but, Christ, can't someone buy this guy a Kleenex?
i aqctually found this site cause i get a news alert whenever anyone uses 'dane cook' and 'best' anywhere near each other.
this is the second time it's happened . . .
. . . the first time it was 'Dane Cook's best jokes are stolen from Louis CK."
Oh, anonymous....
... if he REALLY wanted people drawn by automated searches he'd use different, more salacious words than Mr. Cook provides.
Mr. Packham, I applaud your restraint. Well-played, sir.
PS: Now we have to type in "pasta"!?!?! DAMMIT.
you are a tool dane cook is the best
new carlin --- u ?? a nobody except when a google alert for DANE COOK comes up --
I found you because of my favorite comedian. still a fan of his
u? will never return here again
you are an elitist dolt who loves to read what he types. fucking faker.
Dad's Playboys always tended to work their way around the neighborhood. Not one parent I knew could keep porn, booze, drugs, fireworks, or hidden birthday presents away from us kids . . . thanks, SCOTUS! The one thing my childhood lacked was some good old fashioned William Tell action!
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