Instead of throwing themselves on caskets and moaning to the heavens, “Take me, God!  Why don’t you take me,” people are throwing themselves and the images of their departed loved ones onto the internet.  YouTube has become the modern day casket.  Why not?  It’s free and it never rots.

It’s being used by everybody who wants to cry, complain, grieve, offer false or insipid inspiration — you name it — all the maudlin junk you can imagine at an Irish wake  or an Italian repast is now on YouTube — and it’s getting more and more cringe-worthy every day

Back in the 1950s, the late, great actress/singer/comedienne Judy Holliday made a famous film called, “IT SHOULD HAPPEN TO YOU.”  In this film she plays a woman named Gladys Glover; an ordinary gal who makes herself famous simply by plastering her image on billboards throughout New York City.

How blissfully ignorant and ironic that the title from that film is eerily close to the title of the newest YouTube sensation about a gay guy –who seems to want to be famous — and the lover – who also seems to have wanted fame — that he lost one year ago when said lover fell off a roof.

You’ve probably read the story already and you’ve probably seen the video because every bird-brain on your Facebook page is passing it around and talking about how sad it is and how every gay person in the world needs to revolt because nobody seems to want them at a funeral, and everybody is a bully, and everybody is a hater, and everybody is an evil Christian who watches Fox News.

One deeply saddened gay activist wrote:  “This is why we have to fight back!  I can’t stop watching this.  It brings tears to my eyes. I can’t stop crying.  It’s terrible.”

If it’s so terrible and it makes you cry, why the hell do you keep watching it and sending it to your friends?  Are you a maudlin YouTube masochist first and a Facebook sharing sadist second?  Perhaps you’re organizing a big pity party with go-go boys?  Or maybe…just maybe, you’re just a dopey, maudlin, simple-minded provincial dingbat?  Yes, I think the last guess is the right one.

Anyway, Shane Bitney Crone is the first gay mourner to officially throw himself onto the  virtual casket of YouTube with his teary commemorative video, “It Could Happen To You.”  Dammit — he was so close to getting the title right!  Judy Holliday’s movie was called, “It Should Happen To You” which I happen to think is more appropriate in this case, but I can’t be that mean.

Keep in mind that Shane Bitney Crone did this because he is sad and horribly repressed by our ever evil and perpetually cruel heterosexual Christian society. (yawn) He years for the day when he can move to a Muslim country where he can openly mourn the death of his gay lover.

Hey!  Maybe….just maybe, he’s a modern-day Gladys Glover and he simply wants to be famous.  Oh, no, no, no!  Momma Mia let me go!  Nobody is that shameless, are they?

Shane Bitney Crone made this video — a video that ranks up there with “Old Yeller” for people who like to cry at the movies — because he wanted people to know that his gay lover was accidentally killed and that this gay lover’s evil family shunned him from the ceremony when they had to bury their son.

Oh, I forgot to tell you the actual back story.  It goes something like this.

Shane Bitney Crone’s longtime boyfriend, Tom Bridegroom, fell from a rooftop and died during a photo shoot.  People who seek fame often do photo-shoots because you have to have headshots of yourself in edgy places — like grungy roofops and stuff.

Notwithstanding the glaring fact that both these guys have names that sound like they both stepped off the Mayflower, it has been alleged by Shane Bitney Crone that Tom Bridegroom’s family would not allow him to mourn properly.  This is an outrage and something that should never happen in such high-bourne society.

In a crying-jag performance worthy of Lana Turner, circa “Madam X” and/or “Imitation Of Life,”  he describes in his video how he was pushed aside by those evil anti-gay heterosexual monsters – aka, his ersatz in-laws.

So now, thanks to the world’s newest “Gladys Glover Show” that’s playing at a Facebook page near you, the gay world is on the verge of kvetching.  Does the maudlin gullibility of the facebooking and YouTubing human being ever end?  Unfortunately, the answer is, no.

Is it sad that the guy died?  Of course it is.  Is it sad that Shane was allegedly dismissed by the family of the dead lover?  Yes it is.  Is the whole thing totally true as it as been told in the over-played, tear-jerker YouTube video?  Uh…probably not, but you have to allow for a little poetic/dramatic license.

Keep in mind that a video on YouTube is only half as effective as a real-life, black-veiled, old lady wailing and throwing herself onto her husband’s coffin, but you need production value, dude, and Shane Bitney Crone seems to have done a great job of making himself a YouTube martyr/hero — an internet Gladys Glover — and in HD no less.

I don’t, however, recommend watching the dead lover YouTube video.  Go out instead and rent or buy the Judy Holliday film  “IT SHOULD HAPPEN TO YOU ” – the acting is a whole lot better.

Damien LeGallienne reporting for: TheDamienZone.com.

It has been reported in Ontario, Canada that trotting racehorses are being euthanized at birth because recent legislation has virtually wiped out the industry of harness racing in that Province.  The Damien Zone has, in the past, expressed a lot of displeasure with the harness racing industry but this one pretty much puts the nail in the casket.  This business of racing horses is really disgusting.  It ranks right up there with dog fighting and bull fighting.  If this is true, it’s beyond disgusting.

CANADIAN KILLING FIELDS
Killing Newborn Foals in Ontario

EXCLUSIVE FOR THE DAMIEN ZONE BY:  David Mattia

[Roquebrune-sur-Argens, France] - It was recently reported by April Colby QMI Agency in ParisStarOnline.com, an Ontario, Canada based website, that breeders are now euthanizing their foals at birth because the decision to end provincial funding for Ontario’s harness racing will leave them with no market for these newborns. Whether or not this is a widespread trend or if it’s simply an isolated incident that has grown gossipy wings and isn’t true at all, has yet to be determined, but if foals are indeed being disposed of at birth simply because their future value is uncertain, somebody has to give a voice to these foals. I humbly submit to give them my voice.

I have always believed that if you can’t afford to own a racehorse come foul, come fair, you should neither own one nor should you breed one . In other words, if you have to work in a supermarket or a shopping mall to make your equine ends meet, or if the future of your breeding business teeters on the precipice of market values, you’re in the wrong business. Owning or breeding racehorses should be left to the wealthy, the kind of “wealthy” wherein losses — even into the hundreds of thousands of dollars — are merely glancing blows, or bothersome paperwork issues that are only noticed by an over-worked accountant.

Kindly note that I am not naive about the misdeeds of the well-heeled. On the contrary, I am keenly aware that the horsey elite have often concocted some nasty insurance schemes to recoup losses, and often the very rich display grubby behavior more worthy of a Victorian era street urchin than a socially gregarious heiress running around Monaco. But if you dig deeper, you’ll frequently find that the elite scam artists either don’t have as much money as you think they do, or they came upon their wealth in ways about which you’d rather not think at all.

An old racehorse owner once told me, “Don’t count other people’s money.” That advice has never failed me. Still, it never ceases to amaze me just how “broke” rich people – or people rich enough to assume they can own racehorses —  can often be.

Usually they are more morally broke than they are financially broke, but whichever way you look at it, they’re broke. Anyone who kills a foal simply because a financial loss is in the forecast, is in my opinion, morally broke, and if the racing business survives in Ontario, the guilty should be forever shunned by the racing community in favor of those who stood by their moral obligation to provide for the animals they manufactured.

I also believe that if breeders are killing foals to cut losses, they should be brought up on cruelty charges simply because one doesn’t go around killing things. It’s just not something one does without following proper protocol. There are rules of engagement.

When you kill wasps with a handy can of wasp killer, you are required to read the warnings and instructions on that can. If you don’t follow the directions properly, or you opt to ignore those instruction, you might — instead of killing wasps — wind up poisoning or killing yourself or others or the environment. Yes, there are even consequences to killing a lowly wasp. How ironic is it that even a dead wasp can still sting you? They are one of the few animals who can reach out from beyond the grave and get you back. Innocent foals, however, do not have this rather grim talent, but who’s to say what kind of karmic cycle might roll over a person who kills a perfectly healthy foal with only the excuse of runaway greed to protect them?

In any event, euthanizing a healthy foal,  simply because someone is worried that he or she is going to lose money, is criminal. It’s the point at which euthanasia becomes a euphemism for killing.

If I see a penniless man with a dog and assume that he has no money to feed that dog, should I shoot the dog or should I shoot the penniless man? If I shoot the penniless man I am promptly arrested and put in jail for the rest of my life, but if I shoot his dog  I will not only get some kind of criminal punishment, I will also become the most hated man in that day’s news and perhaps for years to come.

A Hollywood screenwriter once gave me a lesson about how to successfully create the character of a villain.

He said, “If you want the audience to know he’s a bad guy, have him kill the kid’s parents. Then, if you want the audience to really hate that bad guy, have him kill the kid. If, however, you want the audience to get up and leave, have him kill the dog.”

In this instance the villains are allegedly killing newborn colts and fillies because they fear red ink. It might be interesting to investigate why we use the term “red ink” to describe a financial loss. Maybe somebody with an inquiring mind will figure out the historical significance of that expression. I imagine it has something to do with blood, but it doesn’t matter. The audience is already leaving. How much can they take?  If they’re killing foals, they’re playing to an empty house.

Of course there will be people who say, “Do you talk like this when you eat a hamburger or a piece of chicken?” Well, first of all, I don’t talk with my mouth full, but yes, as a matter of fact I absolutely do talk and think about this when I eat the flesh of an animal.

Regrettably, the blissful non-existence with which I was totally satisfied for 4 billion odd years, was rudely interrupted by this thing called my life, and in my life I have to eat. I regret profoundly that I am a failed vegetarian, but I do not kill without concern and I never eat meat without a certain amount of remorse.

I am also one of those crazy people who believes in God. I don’t pretend to like him, but I believe he exists, and whenever I feel the need to stay alive and eat one of his creatures, I say a quiet little prayer — not for myself — but for the animal who was deprived of its life so that I can live mine.

Sometimes an animal turns the tables and chomps down on a human being. Thankfully, in one of his rare displays of mercy and kindness, God has deprived that animal of a conscience. Man eating animals live out their lives without ever knowing the gnawing pains of regret and remorse, and if by chance a big game hunter happens to end up on the wrong end of the safari, I am totally content to see it as one animal eating another in order to survive.

Perhaps I have ventured off my original course, but you have to excuse me. I am trying not to think that foals are being killed because they have been deemed worthless. No human is ordained to make assumptions about which living thing is worthless and which one is not.

I am extremely angry over something about which I should be even angrier. I contain my anger with the hope that this is not really happening, and in remembering the sentiments expressed by the character Hannah Jelkes in the Tennessee Williams play, “The Night Of The Iguana.”

When asked how she deals with a certain sad situation, Hannah says, “Some people take a drink. Others take a pill. I just take a few deep breaths.”

Throughout my career where I have often had to write about harness racing, I have had to take a whole lot of deep breaths and it’s starting to put a strain on my heart — because I have one.

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed by the author of this article do not represent the views of TheDamienZone.com and all of its affiliated companies.  The opinions expressed are those of the author.

Giorgio Tsoukalos’ Mysterious Hair Created By Ancient Astronauts.

UPI VIENNA: Doctors at the Austrian Insititute for Ancient Alien Visitation in Vienna have taken hair samples from ancient astronaut expert Giorgio Tsoukalos’ head and determined that Tsoukalos is definitely part human and part alien or part something unknown.  DNA samples suggest a relation to another man who was seen only once on a ski slope in Aspen — a man-creature of some sort who quickly vanished over a mountain top when he realized that he was being watched by UFO investigators.

“A picture of a mysterious man at a ski lift in Aspen surfaced in 1999,” said Dr. Dean Traherne of the Austrian Institute.  “We’d been looking for him since September 1998 when it was reported by Egyptian authorities that the man had emerged as a beam of light from the great pyramid of Khufu and climbed aboard a strange craft which rose from the ground and vanished at a high rate of speed before the Egyptian Air Force could follow it.  They were unable to even track it.”

While authorities were unable to track the strange man, tourists in the area gave local police a highly accurate description of the man and a composite sketch proved to be very accurate.  A local skier In Aspen, Colorado, USA who just happened to be familiar with the mysterious case at Khufu was standing in line at the ski lift  when he spotted the man and instantly made the connection between the composite sketch and the reports from Egypt over ten years ago.

The man who spotted the mystery hair man cannot be identified because he now has a high level of clearance within the US Government’s Intelligence.  He did, however, immediately call authorities while keeping his eyes on the man.  When the authorities arrived, the mystery hair man grew suspicious and darted through the line and grabbed a seat to the top of the highest slope.  A helicopter search of the mountain top found nothing — not even footprints in the snow.  The wired-haired man had simply vanished through one of those time portholes that Georgio Tsoukalos seems to suspiciously know all about.

“The sketch was so accurate that the there is no question that the mystery man with the wire-crazy hair in Aspen is the man who emerged from the pyramid,” said Traherne.

“If he had nothing to hide, why did he make a quick getaway as soon as UFO investigators approached him.  He hopped aboard a ski lift and rode it to the top but was never seen again.  The chair returned to the bottom of the lift and a hair sample was obtained.  That hair sample was analyzed and now it has been determined that Giorgio Tsoukalos is within 99.9999999999%  genetically identical to the missing mystery man.  The hairs from both men  match no other human genome ever sampled.”

Giorgio Tsoukalos has risen to TV fame with his wild and totally outrageous appearances as a self-proclaimed expert on Ancient Alien Visitation — or the theory that God was an astronaut — or the idea that alien beings came to earth a long time ago and today are represented in ancient writings as winged serpents and flying dragons and many other various alien forms.  The show is called “The Ancient Aliens” and it’s quite popular with kids and people who believe that crystals will take you to other galaxies — you know, people from San Francisco.

But is Giorgio Tsoukalos really a crazed, self-proclaimed, ancient astronaut expert with wild hair that make you want to jump out of your chair and buy the guy a comb, or is he perhaps an ancient astronaut himself?

Something is certainly suspicious because Giorgio Tsoukalos refuses to talk about or even acknowledge the mystery man in Aspen or the fact that his own DNA sample has been sent to NASA and the CDC pending further investigation.  He simply refuses to talk about anything except ancient aliens and ancient astronauts — and his barely audible foreign accent is so irritating that the producers of the show are thinking about dubbing his voice with that of an actor.

Dr. Traherne is infuriated by Tsoukalos’ fame and fears that the American taste for TV will undermine the truth — a truth he fears might be dangerous.

“Giorgio Tsoukalos is a goddam alien I tell you, and he is going to destroy the human race,” asserted Traherne angrily as he pounded his fist on his desk and had to be restrained by The History Channel’s crack team of security gurads.

“I have suspected it for years and now I have the proof I need, but what does the scientific world do?  They put him on the goddam TV and make him and his Bozo the Clown hair famous.  I swear to you, as god is my witness, that Tsoukalos’ hair is the key to the whole mystery.  There is something extraterrestrial in that bee’s nest of wild hair.  Giorgio’s awful fake tan was just a ruse to make him appear Greek– but it was the hair all along.  Now he is a an alien TV star and I look like a crazy man.  But the DNA and the mystery hair man in Aspen – that’s when I will have my day in court.”

Traherne vows to track down the mystery man who was last seen in Aspen and he further vows to prove that Giorgio Tsoukalos and that man are father and son or perhaps brothers.  He vows to bring them down and prove that they are manipulating human knowledge and public conciousness.  He hopes to get the truth from them about their origins and perhaps help Traherne unlock the secrets of the Universe!

“Before they tell me anything about the universe and ancient astronauts, I am going to force Georgio to fix his hair,” said Dr. Traherne.

“His forehead is getting higher and his hair is getting crazier.  You mere mortals think that he wears his hair like that so that as a kind of trademark like Don King — but there is something in there and I am going to get it out.”

“You don’t get a double chin and big fat eye bags from lifting weights,” said nutritional physician and body sculpting surgeon Dr. Dean Traherne MD of the Traherne Institute For Image.

“Pauly D looks like he has been eating a lot of heavy pastas with gravy and meatballs and he’s probably eating a lot of Italian bread with ricotta cheese.  He has that Guido look where they go from looking youthful to being fat Guidos.  About 80% of the time, this Italian weight gain just keeps getting worse.  In 6 months Pauly D will be wearing long black shirts to try to look thinner — but sadly it’s too late.  It’s too late.”

A source close to Pauly D added some inside information.

“Pauly D really looks like shit because he’s eating like a freakin gavone, said Italian insider Frankie P’Antico who works in an Italian deli.

“He likes the Rigawth (Ricotta) with the Shkavatoons and the hot saw-seige in the gravy with the meatballs and the bra-shawl.  He eats saw-seige sandwiches too…like “tree” (3) or four o’ dem a day for chrissake.  He can’t freakin stop eating.  He’s all bloated from beer and all kinds of alcohol too.  He looks like freakin shit.  You can only drink so much and you can only eat so much but he can eat a whole box of shkafatoons in two minutes.”

EDITORS NOTE:  Shkafatoons are a type of fat pasta.  The actual name of this pasta has something to do with over-sized rigatoni, but Guidos have corrupted the word to shkavatoons — Shka – fah – TOONS’.

Also: Saw-Seige is a Guido corruption of the Italian pronounciation for “sausage.”

Undecided Films, LLC is currently meeting with investors who are interested in funding this unconventional “Untitled Angie Cumming” project as a cable series.

Presently, 6 to 12 webisodes are shooting, and the web series will be launched on the various websites that cater to webisodes.

The “Untitled Angie Cumming Project” will then use the  60-plus minutes of footage and turn it into a 30-minute pilot presentation that will be submitted to networks like Comedy Central, IFC, LOGO and several other premium channels.

James Di Giacomo has brought in an off-beat writer and rumors are that the scripts thus far are nothing short of hilarious.  TheDamienZone.com has read the first three and we thought it was awesome.

“It’s really an ambitious project but I think we’ve done a great job with it,” James Di Giacomo said from his home in Burbank.

“I snagged a really great writer too.  Somehow I managed to convinced Dave Mattia to join write for the show.  He’s a guy who is famous for his writing in the  horse racing business, but he’s also written some screenplays that I thought were great.  Two of his more recent scripts are in development and one of them – a thing called ‘GOUGE’– is really incredible.  That script could easily turn into an instant hit film, so I wanted to get Dave before I could no longer afford him and he went all Hollywood on me.

“Dave wasn’t available when I did the original short film ‘Angie Goes On A Date’ but he’s totally on board now.  His stuff is always really funny or super creepy so I asked him if he wanted to work on the Angie project, and he was like…okay?  I thought he was joking.  I didn’t think he would actually say he’d do it.

“Anyway, we work really well together and its funny how totally different we are when we approach comedy.  I’m really happy with the way this has turned out.”

We here at TheDamienZone caught a glimpse of some of Angie Cumming’s stuff, and as much as we usually hate everything, the scripts we saw were actually very funny, and if they come off on screen as well as they do on paper, this show will be a complete riot.

We like to think we know what’s good and what isn’t.  Very few comedy shows are super funny on paper because their ultimate appeal depends on the performances of the actors, but this one is very funny – straight from the printer.

“I think that once people get a taste for Angie, they might want to gargle, ” said  Di Giacomo with a chuckle.   “That pretty much sums up her character…or lack of character.”

TheDamienZone agrees with the show’s young producer/actor, and that’s especially why we like what we know so far — and we always know more than you do.  Sorry, but that’s true.

Angie Cumming, the title character, is a third-string Hollywood gossip reporter who lives a lonely life with her “artistic” son, her train-wreck of a mother, and pretty much nothing else but pathetic misadventure.  Somehow James Di Giacomo has made this nothingness into something and it might be worth taking a look at it when it is released sometime this fall.

If you want to learn more about James Di Giacomo click here  http://www.imdb.me/jamesdigiacomo - and if you want to learn about his awesome production company click here www.undecidedfilms.com - and if you REALLY want to know about the wild Angie project, here’s a link you might want to look at:  http://igg.me/p/94461?a=548706

Dear Plymouth Rock:

You may have noticed that I recently switched to another insurance carrier — why did I do this?  My intention is not to insult your company, but rather, it’s more of a primer about how you should treat your customers.  Primarily, over the 13 years I was a client — first you were Prudential (my piece of the rock) but then I suddenly found myself insured by  High Point.  Isn’t that a state park in New Jersey?  Then, a few years later my new policy said I was insured by  Plymouth Rock.  Who the heck is that?   What happened to Prudential?

I often asked your reps why I was paying so much more than my friends and acquaintances.  I had a flawless driving record whereas many of my friends had tickets and wrecks. For several years I had a car that was paid in full and I dropped collision and other side-dishes, but still I was paying more than friends who had fancy new cars with FULL coverage.  I asked a hundred times, “Why?” 

The reps were always polite but they never really answered the question.  I was twice told that I was free to shop around for a better deal, and finally, after a lot of high-paying years, I did.

I’m glad I did because now, with the same exact coverage, I am paying LESS than half of what I was paying Plymouth Rock aka High Point aka Prudential. 

The thing that pushed me over the edge was a call I made to Plymouth Rock not too long ago — another call where I asked about my high rates and cheaper rates I was quoted by other companies. The answer I got from a very pleasant rep was disturbing.  It was suggested that other companies were “fly by night.” — One rep said, “What if you get in an accident and spend months in the hospital and were paralyzed, or what if you were to run over a kid on a bicycle?”  

That was very unpleasant to hear, and that silly remark notwithstanding, if you’re going to call another company “fly by night” how do you explain that while I was with you, I never really knew who my insurance company really was?  Like I said, one year it was Prudential and then a few years later it was High Point and then more recently it was Plymouth Rock.  I never received any information or notification of these changes. 

The company I switched to has had the same name for over 75 years.  So, aside from the extreme savings for the same coverage, I simply did not like the way my business was simply “taken” — I figured that I was overcharged by about $15,000 since 1999.   Sincerely **** ********.

TheDamienZone wonders if this company will respond.   Please note that not everyone is happy with Geico, but I am not happy with my local wine shop, so it’s all relative.  Not everyone saves money by switchin to Geico, but this guy did, and he did a great job of telling his story.

If a rep from Plymouth Rock wants to know who sent me this, I have their permission to tell you.

[Damien LeGallienne]

Just when I was finally content with the knowledge that nothing could ever be as grotesquely maudlin as the white trash CB Radio trucker Christmas song about the “Poor Little Crippled Boy,”  god went and struck me down by bringing along something a whole lot worse.  Now I have to start all over again.

I humbly submit for your approval, my take on the latest Facebook “share” sensation — the totally fake story about the poor little –  but not crippled –  gay boy who wrote into a poor little mentally crippled blogger.  The sappiness is outweighed only by the fakeness.  ENJOY! 

Yes, now the gay folks —  people who are usually pretty smart about being scammed on Facebook —  have fallen victim to the latest hoax — and it was brought down upon them by their own kind.  Yes, other gays, or, in this case, a blogging “daddy” who pretends to care oh-so-much about gay kids. (sigh)

It’s an amateurishly maudlin story (is there any other kind) about a mother who contacts one of those oh-so-caring simpletons after she stumbles upon an essay where her 15-year-old son comes out as gay after getting an assignment from his evil Christian teacher:

Don’t get nervous, folks.  It’s all fake — totally.  You will eventually see it on your Facebook page because we all have a few morons on our Facebook pages — people who like to “share” thoughtful and insightful….and FAKE stories.

This FAKE blog that some of your dumber gays and a few dysfunctional mothers who shop for craft supplies at “Michael’s”  are spreading around Facebook, was written not to help gay kids or to bring hope to young people who grapple with issues about a budding sexual identity crisis.  God no!  Do not fool yourself into believing that for one second.  No! No! No!  It was written simply to blast Christians and to manipulate the social consciousness of the average person who is dumb enough to believe it’s a true story.

Are there gay kids who are sad because they are stuck in a Christian Fundamentalist school?  Of course there are, but the story used to get that message across is fake.

There are gay kids stuck in Yeshivas and Mosques and Amish country too, but you will not read about that.  Why bother to lend a hand to those kids when you can — Bash the Christians — it gets attention; mostly from other former Christians and the new Nazi atheist misfits who think atheism is a religion.

The only thing these people hate more than themselves is truth — but the self-loathing is a huge issue too.  We can’t ignore that.  One should have some degree of compassion for these idiots.  After all, we are civilized beings.

The blogger, who I will not name because he’s a dick-weed of the highest order, forgot to write the story about the gay school kid in Iran who got his head chopped off in the street because he wrote a love letter to another boy.  Nah –who cares about that atrocity?  It’s so much easier to mock the Christians and get stupid people to pass along the link on their Facebook page.  After a milion cretins share the emotional moment, and you make money off your fuktard blog, the damage is done.  Don’t you just love the Bossa Nova, Dolores?

Anyway, kindly note that I am not directing you to the blogger because he is a complete jerk-off who needs a good what ‘fer.

I imagine that you’ll find him all by yourself, and then some of you will write me nice comments while others will say things like, “Are you off your meds?”  or “You’re pathetic!” or “Do you write this from your mom’s basement?”  — the usual stuff.  If you’re gonna hate on me, BE ORIGINAL GODAMMIT!!!

And you know what really ticks me off?  This blogger is the kind of guy who could, in all probability,  cause a gay teen to kill himself.  Yes! You think I’m crazy, but yes!

Some gay kid might read that fake story and say to himself, “Gee, my mother doesn’t care as much about me as that lady who wrote into the blog about the other gay Christian kid.”  Then a few hours later the police are dragging the river under the Hooterville Bridge and people sob, “Why?  Why?”

Of course, the blogger did not think about this when he invented the story or perhaps passed along the invented story. He only wanted to be viral on Facebook — and that’s all that matters.  This kind of shit sooooooooo infuriates me.

Let me tell you people something.  You might find my blog and read this,  and then perhaps you’ll read through other articles in my blog and come away with the notion that I am some kind of idiot — I can accept that.  I often TRY to be an idiot so as to expose idiots  – not always, but often.

I am, however, a very professional writer for two major publications and I pretty much put absolutely no effort into writing this shit other than to research the basics I feel in my keenly perceptive gut, and I quickly write down the truth.

I work on this without an editor between real assignments, and I will probably write this entire piece in about 5 minutes ( it took me nearly 7 because I had to calm down).

The point about being a good writer, a really good one like me, is that you can easily spot when other writers are simply competent or ordinary.  In this case it was obvious.  The writer who pulled this stunt (playing both the part of the mother and the gay teen) can write well enough for a local Community Newsletter, but he has no imagination.  He’s a hack who can only write in one voice — he’s Salieri — I am Mozart for chrissakes.

I can easily hear the same “voice” in both the mother’s plaintiff email and the son’s woeful essay.  In other words, as a writer, I am able to detect that both pieces of shit were written by the same piece of shit — catch on?

We writers have what we call a “voice.”  Good ones — like me of course – know how to change that voice.  Sure, anyone can switch over to making spelling errors and grammatical mistakes so as to sound like a kid or a different person, but the VOICE is still there.  I am so good at changing my voice that I often have to convince editors in my real job that the stuff I submit is genuine.

The blogger I am talking about — the one with the sad, fake, gay teenager — does not have this ability.  He simply knows how to put a story together.  It’s like learning how to load the dishwasher — anybody with arms or hooks can do it.

The hand-wringing mother in this tale is a windbag – notwithstanding the fact that she is an imaginary character —  because she not only went through her kid’s paperwork, she told the whole world, or the 50 people who read that blog, that she was shocked when she read her son’s essay where he talks about his gayness (yawn).

Here’s the thing, it’s a sappy sentimental letter sent to, or totally invented by, a blogger who posts stupid inspirational crap…even if it’s fake.  He doesn’t care — he needs the traffic — who cares if the whole frigging story is a lie?

The picture of the kid  is outrageously fake — I won’t even put up the picture — it is so fake that I pray the perky kid who posed for the picture was well paid because, believe me, it’s not a picture of the kid who wrote the essay about being gay.  As a matter of fact, no kid wrote the essay.  Again, the entire thing — the mother who wrote the story about the essay and the essay itself — was written by the same person.  Both letters have the same voice.  The whole things is poorly done because it’s all done so perfectly….or what an ordinary writer would consider to be perfect.

I am going to do one of these fake, maudlin, pitiful stories one day to prove how anyone can fake a story or a letter — I mean, I do it every day but I do it to be funny and I often get a riotous laugh out of it.

Let me give you an example of why some writers are good and some writers are bad and some writers are just average.

I often quote ”experts” on my blog — people who don’t even exist — and still they get emails from TV morning shows and radio shows asking them to appear as guests.  You might suggest that I am no better than the blogger who did this — WRONG!   I do it it to be obviously stupid.  I do not do it to manipulate and lie.  The TV shows and radio producers who call upon my “experts”  should be fired for being so stupid as to believe my experts.

So, think about it.  If I can get mainstream press about something as crazy as Snooki working for the CIA, how easy would it be for someone to post some sappy and sentimental story about a poor, poor, gay kid who was forced out of the closet by a mean Christian teacher?  Are you following me?

These crazy, Facebook sharers and those who enable them and encourage them are dangerous people because they are creating a race of internet morons who will believe anything.

The left-leaning cable network announced just hours before airtime on Friday that “Countdown,” the show Olbermann had anchored on Current since June, would be replaced with a new program hosted by former New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer, beginning that night.   Spitzer, a whore, was deemed to be better than a lunatic who pisses in his pants and on the floor during live broadcasts.

“Welcome to Current’s new 8 p.m. (Eastern time) show, ‘Viewpoint,’” said Spitzer, who had a short-lived talk show on CNN in that same time slot, where he briefly went up against Olbermann. He did not mention Olbermann on Friday’s premiere of “Viewpoint.”   He was standing in the sticky remnants left behind when Olbermann used to pee down his leg and leave it for the Cuban maid to clean up.  Nobody believed the old lady until Sarah Palin went public with the fact that Keith Olbermann peed behind his desk.

The sometimes volatile Olbermann came to Current last year as the centerpiece of its new prime-time initiative after a stormy eight-year stint at MSNBC — his second at that network— followed by his abrupt departure in January 2011.   MSNBC fired him in an instant after they simply started to hate him.  He was peeing on the floor and acting like a crazy person.

Shortly after, Current announced his hiring — reportedly with a five-year, $50-million contract — as the start of an effort to transform the network’s prime-time slate into progressive talk. His official title was chief news officer, charged with providing editorial guidance for all of the network’s political news, commentary and current events programming.    Olbermann’s contract was chock full of standards and practices loppholes so he isn’t going to get any money out of that $50 million.

In a statement, Current TV founders Al Gore and Joel Hyatt said the network was “founded on the values of respect, openness, collegiality, and loyalty to our viewers. Unfortunately these values are no longer reflected in our relationship with Keith Olbermann and we have ended it.”     They also said off the record that NOBODY was watching the network and that Al Gore had lost millions of his wife’s money trying to compete with Bill O’Reilly.

They offered no details, but it is known that the temperamental Olbermann repeatedly clashed with his employers and peed on the floor. During the primary season he declined to host certain hours of election coverage and has missed a number of regular broadcasts, as well as complaining about technical problems he said undermined his show — and he pissed on the floor.

Current considered some of those missed shows to be in “serial, material breach of his contract,” terming them “unauthorized absences,” according to a person familiar with the matter who spoke on the condition of anonymity because that person wasn’t authorized to discuss details of Olbermann’s dismissal.

“We are confident that our viewers will be able to count on Gov. Spitzer to deliver critical information on a daily basis,” Gore and Hyatt said in their “open letter” to viewers.    ”Spitzer is a wife scamming whore who fucks hookers  but he is the best left winger we could find.”

In a statement posted online, Olbermann countered that “the claims against me implied in Current’s statement are untrue and will be proved so in the legal actions I will be filing against them presently.”  Sadly, Olbermann has no lawyer money.  He is shit outta luck.  They have so much dirt against him that he will not have the balls to show his face in court.

He said he had been attempting “for more than a year” to resolve his differences with Gore and Hyatt internally, “while I’ve not been publicizing my complaints.” Instead of “investing in a quality news program,” he said, his bosses “thought it was more economical to try to get out of my contract.”    But Olbermann neglected to say that on top of his childish bashing of the right wing — nobody was watching — not even the liberalist liberals.  NOBODY LIKES HIM!!!!

He called his decision to join Current “a sincere and well-intentioned gesture on my part, but in retrospect a foolish one.”    Yeah, foolish for everybody who invested in this floor peeing psychopath who belongs in a state hospital!

The rupture between Olbermann and his bosses echoed Olbermann’s past employment history. At NBC there was ongoing friction between the brash host and his bosses, just as there had been at earlier jobs as far back as Olbermann’s star-making, often tumultuous turn as a “SportsCenter” anchor at ESPN in the 1990s.      Olbermann is insane and he should not be on TV — this should end any further speculation.

Just weeks before his exit from MSNBC, Olbermann was nearly fired but instead was suspended for two days without pay for violating an NBC News policy by donating to three political campaigns.

At the heart of his grievance with MSNBC, as he later explained it, was the media consolidation that he felt threatened his independence on the air.

In January 2011, Comcast Corp., the giant cable operator, acquired a controlling stake in Olbermann’s already huge employer, NBCUniversal.

The night of Jan. 21, Olbermann told his viewers he was leaving. He said, a bit cryptically, that “there were many occasions, particularly in the last two and a half years, where all that surrounded the show — but never the show itself — was just too much for me.”

After that, Current, the privately held network co-founded in 2005 by former Vice President Gore and Joel Hyatt, seemed the perfect fit: It is an independent media outlet.

“Nothing is more vital to my concept of a free media than news that is produced independent of corporate interference,” Olbermann said at the announcement of his coming to Current.

Current was then beginning its effort to redefine itself after ditching its original concept as the go-to site for viewer-generated short videos.

Since “Countdown” premiered, Current has fleshed out its prime-time lineup of liberals with “The Young Turks,” hosted by Cenk Uygur, and “The War Room” with former Michigan Gov. Jennifer Granholm.

This week, it introduced a six-hour morning talk block, with live simulcasts of the radio programs “The Bill Press Show” and “The Stephanie Miller Show.”

___

“She stole my numbers ,” screamed Velma Cruthers as she was hauled away – strapped to a gurney and put in an ambulance.

“They were my numbers!  She knew I always played number 46  and 27 in my Mega Millions.  She should die.  I hope I killed her.”

Luckily Flora Vawn-Butlers survived the attack but doctors expect she will have to have weeks of rehabilitation.  Several tendons in her neck were damaged by the attack and a few pieces of veal that were on the cleaver may have caused an infection when they entered deep into the muscle.

“Deep slicing wounds inflicted by an instrument where there is already animal meat, significantly raise the chance that she (Vawn-Butlers) will develop mad cow disease, but at this stage of her life it doesn’t really make a whole lot of difference,” said Dr. Murray Holiday who was the attending physician where the butchered lottery player was treated and eventually admitted.

This is not the only incident where a Mega Millions frenzy about numbers caused injury.

In Union City, New Jersey, a Weehawken man was shot and killed  in a lottery store when the man behind him heard him rattle off a few numbers that may or may not have matched a few of his.

According to eyewitnesses,  62-year-old Hector Klinemin-Velez shoved 89-year-old Carlos Vermerrez away from the counter and said, “Those are my numbers.  I always play 11 and 22.”

Witnesses then said that the old man replied meekly, “I play my late wife’s birthday 11th month 1922.”

Further reports say that this plea for lottery pity only served to further anger Klinemen-Velez and he took out his 357 Magnum and pumped 6 rounds into the old man’s head killing him instantly.

According to police, one woman screamed, “He just shot him with a 357 and he shot him 6 times!”   As Vermerrez lay dead on the floor in a huge puddle of blood in front of the befuddled Hindu man at the lottery terminal, the store was overrun with people who started playing the numbers 3-5-7 or 35- 7 or 3- 57 and then the number 6 as their jackpot number.   When the ambulance came it was too late for Vermerrez but frenzied lottery players ran to the curb to write down the ambulance number and license plate.

“I know that a man died,” said Doris Marcanttoti of Union City who is a devout lottery play and Catholic, “but if any of these numbers come out and I come outta this with 500 million, I am going to pay off that guy’s bail and help him with a lawyer.  You just don’t go around playing other people’s numbers.  I don’t give a shit if it was his dead wife’s birthday or not.  If I had a gun and he played my grandkid’s birthdays I would have shot the old son of a bitch too.”

According to psychiatrist, Dr. Dean Traherne, “The thought of $500 million is too much to handle for some people.  They actually think they own certain numbers and they will do anything to protect their property.  In this case one old lady ended up with hatchet slices and veal in her neck, and another old man died just because he wanted to win a few bucks.”

A spokesman for LPA “Lottery Players Advocacy” said that they “expect several more deaths and injuries before tonight’s drawing.  If there is no winner tonight and the drawing goes on into next week, there could be thousands killed.”

The Damien Zone agrees that money cannot buy you happiness, but in this case it can buy you death.  If, however, you play by the rules and etiquette, and don’t steal numbers from your friends, you might get out of this lottery drawing alive.

I urge all AOL people who cling to that old email address to simply drop it and stay away from AOL.   Using AOL for mail is like having cancer and going to a woman who heals with crystals.

Forget it.   Get a Gmail account — Yahoo is also out of the question because nothing on yahoo comes without having to watch a 15 second commercial which slows down your computer.  Maybe it’s better to simply get a paper, pen, stamp and envelope – use the post office.

Email was supposed to be simple — it is now anything but.