Newsflash: Old People Get Grumpy

A judge in England has had two of his verdicts overturned and one of them thrown out in the past two weeks. While overturned verdicts are admittedly not overly uncommon in countries blessed with appeals systems, these particular decision were overturned (or tossed) because the judge was-- and I quote-- "irritable."

The guy is 72 and seems to have really not like the defense attorneys in any of the three cases. One barrister, for example, had her entire defense dismissed as "rubbish" at the trial's opening. Words like "silliness" and "nonsense" were also regularly tossed in her direction, conduct which, according to the appeals court, sort of violated the judge's neutrality. In another trial, the grumpy old man just ripped endlessly into the defense team:

"In truth, this trial became over-infused with what appears to have been repeated and unnecessary demonstrations of inappropriate personal animosity towards counsel which involved public criticism not only of her ability, but also of her integrity. These interfered to a marked degree with the normal due process...[A] reading of the transcripts shows that the perception of any reasonable observer present at the trial would have been similarly damaged."

While it's reassuring to know that haters like this can have their decisions throw out (and that Boston Legal is in fact not an accurate representation of the legal system), one does wonder why the dude hasn't been fired. I mean, at the moment, he's a pipeline to innocence for anyone who comes before him. Hey, British criminals: ask for Judge Nicholas Medawar QC by name. He'll find you guilty, but don't worry-- you'll walk.

Milk Milk Haterade

Regarding the "secret" explicit sex scenes in the Grand Theft Auto video game and the availability of a sex-free version, Lester Haines of The Register wrote:

"Concerned parents can rest assured that after shooting up drug dealers with a semi-automatic rifle, their wide-eyed and innocent teen gamer will in future have to wind down with warm milk and cookies rather than an explosive climax with his bitch."

Outraged granny sues over Grand Theft Auto [The Register via WE Blog]

Calling Wesley Snipes

In March, a Ukrainian woman was arrested for keeping drunk and high kids (they didn't come that way, she plied them with intoxicants) scattered around her home as living Tuperware, full of a delcious, red beverage. When she got bored/hungry/crazy, she'd bleed them, and then drink or sell their blood. In the vampire's defense, though, she's suffering from a "muscle-wasting condition," and drinking blood helps-- everybody knows that. Plus, she had to buy the glue she gave the kids to sniff, and was only taking a little of their blood in exchange. As payment, if you will. And she was giving them warm meals, and a place to sleep (albeit tied down). Gosh, it almost sounds reasonable when she says it.

And now, just days ago, a man was arrested in Kaliningrad for attacking an old woman on the street, stabbing her, and trying to lap at her blood. After the arrest, it was discovered that the vamp had done the same thing to two elderly women in a nearby home. Mmm...babushka blood.

What makes all of this even odder (if that's possible), is that the headlines uniformly refer to the perpetrators as VAMPIRES. The words "alleged" or "believed-to-be," or even "bat shit crazy" regularly fail to make an appearance. This tacit acknowledgment of infestation leads to a single, inevitable conclusion: Russia has a vampire problem, and Blade is their only hope.

I Remember When You Just Had To Tag A Subway Car

Apparently gang initiations have gotten a little more hardcore these days, at least in (wait for it) Russia. Even if you're a Moscow city councilman and have serious work to do (bribes to pay, kickbacks to arrange-- that sort of thing), when your crew calls, you drop everything and answer. Such was the case with a young Muscovite (Just 25 and already a city councilman! Think of his future.) who, not satisfied with just being a member of the Liberal Democratic Party (which is neither), was eager to join an illegal gang as well. In order to join said gang, the lad felt he had to:

1. Call a car dealer and tell him he wanted to buy something nice and snazy. (Totally misunderstanding, the dealer showed up with a Volga. If a murder wasn't already in the works, this probably sealed the deal.)
2. Shoot the car dealer.
3. Cut his body up into little pieces.
4. Put the little pieces in a whole bunch of different bags.
5. Drive (possibly in the Volga) around eastern Moscow and leave the bags in various parks.

Or at least, that's what he did. I can't imagine the gang's demands were that specific-- they were probably more like "Убейте человека и вы внутри. Высокие 5." (Which of course, translates to "Kill a dude, please, and you're in. High five.") But you have to admire the councilman's creativity in carrying out the task-- that same willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty was doubtless the key to his rapid political ascent.

Now, though, since he's been arrested and confessed, and since Russian courts return a guilty verdict in over 95% of criminal trials, that political career might just be in trouble. Bummer. On the positive side, though, he totally made it in to the gang!

Sacramento, So Much To Answer For

Free speech is still dieting on knuckle-sandwiches in Sacramento where lawyers are artists too and among an exhibit of their work in the cafeteria of the California Department of Justice, there's an image of our country going down the toilet (left). I for one applaud the inspiring color scheme and calculated use of red, white, blue, and brown in all the right places. I wish I could eat this picture. While it makes me think of buffalo wings, fried calamari, and pulled pork, I bet it tastes like a cupcake. Anyway, the guy who created it is getting death threats from the usual hysterical fanatics in our country who don't trust anyone with a waist size under 40 and who couldn't paintball themselves out of a wet Bible. Here's one phone message left at the artist-lawyer's house:

"Steve and Virginia, I want you to know something. You’ve got some problems. Big problems. You’re fucking mentally insane for one thing.

But now you’ve gone ahead and slandered the life of the men who died for you. Now it’s your turn. Don’t ever put something up like that again. Do you hear me? I certainly hope so. Because we’re less than a day’s march from your house. Cunt!"

Okay, I have to admit, the freak kinda won me over with that last line. Ballsy. But the most disturbing part of this whole story? Blottered's man in Sacramento hasn't reported a damn thing here and once again it takes a New York Citizen Mediaographer to help spread the word of the fear-inspired attacks on the First Amendment as if it was made of badly-scented toilet paper.
Flag-in-Toilet Artist Gets Threats [The Progressive]

The Cuddly .50-Caliber

This free WSJ article on gun manufacturers' attempts to blow up interest in its wares is riddled with more bad bullet and gun metaphors, analogies, and similes than a picture of Bin Laden at a West Virginia shooting range.

Looks like they're taking the Nascar Nation approach: stop trying to appeal to only dumb southerners; appeal to dumb people everywhere, which seems to include the article's author. Note the use of "booming" in the following:

"When grizzled gun dealers gathered for their big annual Shooting, Hunting, Outdoor Trade Show in Las Vegas last January, they found themselves rubbing holsters with a decidedly different demographic: people who play and profit from the booming sport of paintball."

The last pinball wizard I saw making money was some 12-yr-old kid at summer camp who'd bet you five bucks he could move the paddles with his wiener.

Oh, and, don't this remind you of the effect of every Parental Warning Sticker you ever did see:

Sales of Smith & Wesson's gargantuan .50-caliber Magnum 500, introduced in 2003 as the most powerful production handgun on the market, seemed to accelerate in 2004 when the Violence Policy Center, a Washington gun-control group, issued a detailed report condemning the gun's outsize specifications and its purported ability to punch through most police body armor.

Peeping Tom Done Peeped Too Long

I do believe Mr. Eaton is employing what we in the writing game call "poetic license" when he compares L.A. artist Selena Kassab to one Lara Croft. Sure, Kassab is "willowy" just like Croft, I guess, but Croft didn't fight crime in pink fuzzy slippers. That seems more of a Mrs. King (of "Scarecrow and..." fame) kind of crime-fighting footwear choice.

Still, when Kassab caught a Peeping Tom's reflection in her mirror (he had already peeped on two other lasses) she took off after him. What would have she done if she had caught him? “I really can’t say. I would have fought with everything I have and tried to take him down,” she said.

Everything she had turned out to be "a broom stick with an 8-inch blade duct-taped to the end."

On second thought, maybe she's a psychotic McGuyver with boobs.

When she failed to catch him, Kassab Photoshopped up a picture and hung it around town and then organized a paranoid and violent mob:

The girls of the building stocked golf clubs and other weapons behind their doors. One loving father sent several women bottles of pepper spray. Joanne Davis, 27, got a 53-pound German shepherd and Valerie Weeks, an expandable metal “beat stick” she keeps in her bag.

On third thought, Thelma, Louise, and the Switchblade Sisters rolled into one got nothing on Kassab.

Roanoke Times: Police make arrest in Peeping Tom case

New wrinkle in death of Perfect family

Idaho's NewsChannel 7 is reporting that "toxicology results indicate the presence of methamphetamine in Tony Perfect’s blood stream." Boise residents will recall that Tony, Stephany, and baby Zoe Perfect were killed when the car they were driving was hit on Highway 55 by a racing pickup truck piloted by one Mark Lazinka. Though Lazinka was racing Boise State football player Cam Hall at the time of the accident, the incident is being referred to as being caused by "road rage". It is not clear who is presumed to have been enraged, though it seems unlikely to this reporter that Ada County Sheriff Gary Raney is engaging in postmortem speculation on the motives of any of the Perfects.

SFist In My Heart

Why is it that the outer -ists of the Gothamist Dumpire of City Blogs are so much better than the Mother-Shit? For one, I know that SFist's excellence can be summed up simply by whispering the name of editor Jackson West. I witnessed the man spark a doob (a phrase you should never actually say) in a couple of Austin, TX bars without giving a second thought except to make sure I remembered his drink order. Besides that, the Ess-Fisters can even write funny, smart commentary. Imagine the possibilities of blogging when you can pull that off!! I have no doubt Jackson and Co. are part of the in-crowd and get invited to all the cool media parties from Richmond to Daly City. So where am I going with this and what's the connection to crime? Well, Lovely Rita who does their blotter round-up has sent me a couple tips that I negligently misplaced. I apologize. Please check out her latest felonious post and learn about cold-cocking-cop anarchists and a loyal bank robber. SFist Blotter [SFist]
Pictured: SFist editor Jackson West, armed and gregarious

The Rise And Fall Of Arthur Teele

Once a monstrously powerful politician in Miami-Dade county (he served as both city and county commissioner, which apparently are both pretty kickass gigs), things had been going downhill sort of rapidly lately for Mr. Arthur E. Teele. He'd been arrested three times in the last year (most recently on 26 federal charges, including Mafia-style stuff like fraud and money laundering), and was convicted of attempting to assault a police office. To make things worse, on Wednesday the Miami New Times posted to their website a tell-all article on Teele called "Tales of Teele: Sleaze Stories." Ouch. That doesn't sound good. The product of truly exhaustive research, the article includes damning transcripts of police interviews with informants and details of police surveillance reports.

Ultimately, the man who emerges from the article is a scumbag: unfettered by, well, pretty much anything at all, he demands bribes, carries around bags of money, snorts coke, and frolicks with prostitutes of both sexes. The article includes details on touching, family-friendly encounters like this one with Frederick Davis, a "transsexual prostitute" ("Art" is Teele, "Larry" is a guy who had previously serviced "Art"):

...F. Davis said that they used the cocaine and he performed oral sex (mouth-penis) on "Art" and then "Art" performed oral sex on him. He advised that "Art" then requested that F. Davis engage in anal intercourse (F. Davis's penis into "Art's" anus) with him. F. Davis advised that he was paid $450 for the session. He stated that afterward, he went to the hospital to thank his friend "Larry" for the referral. He did not see him that day because the visiting hours were already over...F. Davis said that he had a total of approximately four or five similar sexual encounters with "Art." He added that they used other motels. He stated that they always engaged in oral sex on each other and, at times, "Art" would also penetrate F. Davis's anus with his penis. He said that they always used cocaine. F. Davis said that the price for the sexual rendezvous was always $450.

Shortly after the article went up on the New Times website (the paper version was due out today and is surely flying off the shelves), Teele walked into the lobby of a different newspaper entirely (why he went there is sort of unclear; he'd spoken twice with one of the paper's reports prior to his arrival in the building) and shot himself in the head. Twice. That'll pretty much do it, then.

Tweakers, tokers, hillbillys, and Mrs. Sanders

Martha calls a halt to meth lab posts, but it's important to note that today's tweaker is yesterday's toker and last week's moonshine hillbilly.

I submit:

My youthful indiscretions circa 1987 or so seem so innocent in the waning light of my memory. Nowadays, though, hitting the 7-11 to buy two cases of wooden matches so's you could chop the tips off, pack them in a medicine vial along with assorted nuts and bolts, and have yourself a pipe bomb to blow up Ole Man Willis' mailbox could land you in Git-mo.

Our kiddie assembly line never got this far, but one gent in Chattanooga, Tenn, bought 75,000 books of matches in a two-week period and tipped his lye-stained hand to the local cops: he's looking to be cooking up some blue-collar coke to make Jeff Foxworthy proud.

"Moonshiners when from moonshine to marijuana, from marijuana to meth," said top cop Ricky Smith. He contests that many meth manufacturers can directly trace their lineage to makers of illegal alcohol.

In the World Peace Herald's two-part investigation of the meth crisis, all the facts are present:
-- Truckers use it to keep alert whilst hauling Huggies
-- Ingredients include some of the same toxins as a Marlboro: lye, paint thinner camp fuel, ether, battery lithium
-- Meth was reportedly used by Japanese kamikaze pilots and U.S. soldiers during WWII to stay away while slaughtering each other.

But we often forget the upside, as Ms. Sanders will relate: "When I first started doing it, I was up for about four days, I could clean the house, take care of the kids, we had a spotless house, I did all the laundry, I ironed the curtains, I was like a supermom," said Charlotte Sanders.

Billy Hadden, 35, recovering super-tweaker, says, "It's like taking a 24-hour day and turning it into a 30-hour day."

If that's so Billy, why don't you help Charlotte around the house once in a while.

Pot Is The New Meth

That's it, no more posting about meth-- it's so two days ago. Weed is where it's at, baby. So today, for your reading pleasure, pot as a new wrinkle on gambling debts. If you please:

Police in Pennsylvania yesterday-- responding to a report of "an open door" (Who the hell calls the police about open doors? Where does this guy live, exactly?) at a former funeral home-- stumbled upon a massive marijuana growing, harvesting, and processing operation. The building, now home to Russian-of-the-day Boris Petrov and his son and elderly mother, also housed to roughly 200 marijuana plants of various size, not to mention piles of already-processed weed, and a whole lot of cash. Though Petrov had moved into the house fairly recently, he'd already done so much weed-oriented renovating that it's a little unclear exactly where he and the fam slept. In the car, possibly. Or maybe in the bathrooms-- I don't think there was any pot in there.

...The three-story home was organized into a high-tech marijuana manufacturing facility with solar lights, humidifiers, timers, fans and a ductwork system that ensured the plants had optimal growing conditions...The plants were located on one floor, which was outfitted with several high powered solar lights and a humidification system. The second floor was used to dry the plants and the third floor for processing the finished product.

So far, so good, right? Nothing but another Russian, just tryin' to make it in this crazy, mixed up country of ours. But wait-- it gets much, much better. See, according to Petrov, he didn't want to be growing (and processing, and drying) the weed. In fact, he was being forced to do so. By-- wait for it-- yes, that's right: the Russian mafia. (Oh hell yes. And you people wonder why I love the Russians?! Like Don Corleone could have come up with something like this. Please.)

After losing $60,000 to Russia mobsters in a poker game, Petrov, unable to raise the money, was told that he would have to take care of some pot in order to work off the debt. While it doesn't appear that anyone ever threatened Petrov himself, murky allusions were frequently made to "taking care of" his family (for some reason he interpreted these things as threats, rather than offers to look after his elderly mother). So far, though, he's not getting a lot of sympathy: Boris and his poor mom are rotting in jail, while the mobsters, though lower on weed than they were a few days ago, are playing poker in Brooklyn.

Shine on You Crazy Diamond

Pop quiz: How big a moonshine still is big? While an improperly cooked cup of the clear stuff is enough to blind you, according to the North Caroline Alcohol Law Enforcement (ALE, seriously) a 200-gallon still is when it gets large.

The ALE team busted Scott Lee Isom for running his own distillery and making moonshine to make Uncle Jesse proud. They ran him up on charges for "manufacturing nontax-paid alcohol, possession of a liquor still, two counts of possession of nontax-paid alcohol, and two counts of possessing an alcoholic beverage to sell without an ABC Permit, according to a report." That's big government, for you: taking away a southern man's entrepreneurial spirit. Is another Whiskey Rebellion a-brewing down in Asheville. Power to the boozers.

Yolk Rage

A little tip to the newshounds out there: any headline that says "harmless" and/or "prank" is for a story that involves "death" and/or "jail."

For example, a (Multiracial! Could they be more adorable?) group of sweet, innocent Indiana teens went out egging cars last weekend, and good fun was had by all. How wonderful is egging cars? Gee whiz, it takes me back to my own childhood, when throwing eggs was right up there with getting to lick grandma's butter churn. Fun and, of course, harm-free.

However, in a result that shocked no one except for the kids and their families, one motorist took exception to the egging and got of out his car to yell "profanities." According to the boys (who, I remind you, are sweet and innocent), this confrontation made them reconsider their actions, and they immediately stopped throwing eggs. Unfortunately, the guy was unmoved and shot two of them when he came upon them later, (innocently) walking along the street. One of the boys was wounded in the leg, while the other was hit in the back and ultimately bled to death. Sort of a high price to pay for a dozen or so eggs.

Still, though. Parents, I know it sucks unbelievably to lose your kids. So tell them NOT TO THROW THINGS AT MOTORISTS! Actually, it might be best for all of us if nobody under 18 ever goes outside again. Kids? It's video games and tv for the next decade. Oh, like you're really upset. Please.

Come Inside My Chambers

Blottered readers ask, we deliver. One news-hungry fan who prefers to have his crime info shoved down his throat and overflowing from his nose doesn't believe in media saturation and demands we cover the "Robert Chambers" case to give our world-weary perspective. I confess, I had to Google his name but I'm glad I did and now we can all rest easy knowing Robert Chambers is not afraid to pound his gavel and bitch-slap justice for the people.

"I don't know why they're doing this to me," Cherylethia Glenchelle Holmes sobbed as she was led from Huntington's federal courthouse in handcuffs.

Holmes, 23, had been out on bond since February, after she was arrested on a drug charge. Police said she was carrying drugs and a semi-automatic pistol when she was arrested outside the 8th Avenue Bar in Huntington.

U.S. District Judge Robert Chambers said the severity of the charges against Holmes and "compelling circumstances" about them prompted him to revoke her bond.

Good work, Bob.
Bond Revoked for Potential Suspect in 4 Slayings [WVNS TV]

Tried In Bulgaria? Bummer.

Michael Shields, an 18 year-old Briton, was convicted yesterday of hitting a bartender in the head with, um, a brick he threw during a little (soccer-related, of course) disagreement in Bulgaria last spring. The bartender suffered major injuries (a chunk of his skull is gone, and he's brain-damaged), and the sentence was stiff: 15 years in jail, and £70,000 to the victim. All of which would be what the hooligan deserves, if it wasn't for the fact that someone else did it-- I mean, he confessed and everything. (Though the guy's refusal to either testify for the defense or actually go to Bulgaria to be tried sort of takes the shine off of his good deed.) There was also testimony in court from witnesses who saw Shields go to bed hours before the attack took place, but none of this truth nonsense had any impact. Plus, the rest of Europe tends to frown rather severely on English soccer fans and their propensity for boozed-up, idiotic violence, so the judge may have been a bit grumpy to begin with.

Ah well. Hey, at least the prison in which young Michael might (pending an adventure in a Belgian appeals court) spend the next 15 years is in a resort town. This way, the fam can visit the boy and shake off that English pallor in one easy trip!

Wife And Bounty Hunter

A Russian woman who murdered her would-be rapist was recently given a 50,000 ruble gift (that's about $1500, for those of you without the ruble-dollar exchange rate at your fingertips) in appreciation of the act. The money, collected by the Movement Against Illegal Immigration (MAII) from its members, was called "a noble outburst of the soul" by the woman's husband, and the pair happily pocketed the cash.

While this whole thing at first glance fills me with a sort of "Woo Hoo, Chicks! Yay Russians For Loving Tough Women!" swell of pride, it turns out that MAII is a Russian nationalist group whose members were perhaps more impressed by the fact that the dead guy was an ethnic Armenian than anything else. You see, these pure-bred Russians feel that people from the Caucuses "do not respect Slavs enough," and should be kept out of Russia. Or, apparently, killed. Oh dear.

No word yet on if they've paid any other bounties.

But Bro, I've Been Violated!

Even though he's only 17, Stephen Knight is really mature. He's got his own apartment (complete with Christmas lights and a totally sexy plasma tv) and his very own ladyfriend. Extrapolating from the available evidence, I'd also wager that he has a job, because I'd guess his parents didn't buy him that tv. Really, Stephen's pretty much on track to a perfect life.

Or rather he was, until some "hispanic guys" broke into his pad, tied him up with the Christmas lights, took the tv and stole his fucking weed. The tv he could understand, because it's just sitting there looking shiny and awesome-- I mean, who doesn't want a plasma tv? But the weed? Dude, how did they even know it was there? This was some sort of inside job, that's what it was. Somebody tipped those assholes off. Stephen refusing to take this bullshit lying down, did what any self-respecting, law-abiding American would do: when his girlfriend got home and untied him, he called the cops.

Unfortunately for Stephen, the cops sort of missed the point. Turns out the thieves hadn't taken all his weed. Or all his ecstasy. Man, if only San Antonio was in Columbia.

The Gangsta-Al Qaeda Connection? A Blottered Investigation

OK, stay with me here.

First, there was Jose Padilla, former Chicago gang member and luckless would-be bomb maker. He never even got around to obtaining any uranium like the tehrrrists asked, of course. But even though he's rumored to be borderline retarded, Jose Padilla was deemed an enemy combatant, so they snatched him up and threw away the key. Poor Pucho. But maybe this gave Al-Qaeda an idea: let's get the gangstas all up in this shit.

Last week, as you'll recall, Li'l Kim's former boyfriend and his fellow mujahedin "Cash Money Brothers" crew were busted for allegedly dealing cocaine in Bed-Stuy and murdering five people over the past decade. But here's the kicker:

Hardy, who has been in custody since last August after being nabbed when he returned from a trip to Iraq, is due to be arraigned in Brooklyn Federal Court today. Eight members of the gang were arraigned yesterday, and four others were being sought....Hardy was taken into custody last year after traveling to Iraq and the Middle East on a bogus passport. When questioned by federal agents, Hardy allegedly said he would fight in a jihad against the United States and claimed to be Jesus.

So, what exactly was he doing in the Middle East? Who travels there with a fake passport? The guy came right out and said he was fighting a jihad! Where, now, is this supposed anti-terrorist task force Bernie Kerik is purportedly heading up? I mean, as was noted here, the investigation has been going on for years now:

The investigation into the Cash Money Brothers began in June 2003 after customs agents seized 8 kilograms of cocaine from a courier arriving at John F. Kennedy International Airport from Grenada, said Martin Ficke, special agent in charge of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement's New York office.

Grenada? Jesus Christ, get these guys to Gitmo, stat. (And while you're at it, take Li'l Kim too. Her plastic surgery is a fatwa on good taste.)

I know what you're thinking. (I mean, seriously, I can read your thoughts.) Tenuous connection so far, right? But dig this big crux, in today's Post:

Osama bin Laden tried to buy a massive amount of cocaine, spike it with poison and sell it in the United States, hoping to kill thousands of Americans one year after the 9/11 attacks....Bin Laden hoped that large numbers of Americans dying from poisoned coke would lead to widespread terror.

It's a bit disappointing that this didn't work out, as it wouldn't be terribly tragic if every PR flack and B-list starlet in this city dropped dead, but still--Ha HA!--the circle closes!

From Jose to Li'l Kim to Osama in three easy steps.*

*At press time, this reporter was unable to connect the Source bigwigs shooting in the Flatiron District this weekend, but she is working on it.

Toto Sit, And Spin, We're Still In Kansas

Here's something to keep handy, on 3x5 flash cards or smutty matchbooks for example, if you're ever "back" "packing" through Kansas. State criminal law code 21-4301-c-3 states:

"Obscene device" means a device, including a dildo or artificial vagina, designed or marketed as useful primarily for the stimulation of human genital organs, except such devices disseminated or promoted for the purpose of medical or psychological therapy.

A prescription artificial vagina with unlimited refills we can imagine, in fact Karl Rove keeps one for the President to pet under periods of severe anxiety, but medicinal dildos? Unless they're coated in Neosporin, that's really stretching a small hole in the law's hairier parts.
Kansas' law on obscenity [Wichita Eagle]

When Harry Met Saul Eisenberg, Esq.

Harry Les, everyone's favorite golden-brown digging investment banker perm-temp blogger, has put forth a challenge to Blottered which I will extend to anyone fluent in legal-sleaze:

I have a suggestion for you and Blottered, and how you can make the world a better place, and get some press, and experience for yourself that I am like really really really smarter than you. Are you psyched?

Here is it: Go down to 100 Centre Street and BLOG Quasi LIVE from New York City's Criminal Arraignment Court. Here is what you will likely see and can report to the world: (a) 99.9% of the people arrested are young Black and Hispanic guys; (b) none of these kids have lawyers - they are all represented by legal aid; (c) they will plead guilty to anything that either allows them to go home or to serve a minimum amount of time in jail (I've seen some of them plead guilty to other people's crimes when the court personnel mixed up the cases); (d) all of these arrested kids are charged with two crimes - one charge is a serious one involving long jail time and the other charge is the "plead-guilty-to-charge" that these kids plead guilty to under the delusion that they can go home or get light jail time.

Damn Hars, you did all the leg and kegel work for us! What's the point of us going now? Many thanks for the sociological breakdown, but enough of this boring urban crime, we now return to our regularly scheduled white trash felony programming.

Mmm...Dead Babies

A Russian man was arrested earlier this month for biting a baby to death. In an intriguing detour from the path followed by most psychopaths, no part of the child appeared to have been eaten-- she was just, you know, covered with bite marks. Police so far have been unable to discern the biter's motives but Blottered is here to offer a few possibilities:

• boredom
• thought she had sent him spam
• no longer able to quietly accept the horror of his soul-destroying life under that asshole Putin
• hungry, but then not
• mistakenly thought she was the most magnificent potato he'd ever seen
• heard her speaking badly of Uncle Joe Stalin

Meth Can't Catch A Break

Poor meth. It's just trying to keep it real, you know? Doin' its thing, trying to be the best cheapass, redneck drug it can be. And what happens? It's blamed for every little fucking thing that goes wrong. First, morons start blowing up labs. Whose fault is that? Why, it's meth's, of course. Then families fall apart and blah blah blah. Just because a woman can't keep her man satisfied, people go and say it's because of meth. Whatever. Now, dentists who can't do their jobs are blaming meth for fucking tooth decay? Please. What's next? Global warming? Just back the fuck off, bitches.