Oh, this is fun. MoveOn.org, Brave New Films and the Service Employees International Union went live with a Web site to have some fun with Fox News’ “crying man,” Glenn Beck. Turns out, he has it out for us. Oh noes!
Many Columbians’ unsatisfied desire to raise chickens in an urban setting just got that much closer to becoming a reality. Wednesday morning, the CIty Council gave approval on the first vote on a measure that would allow people to raise chickens — in a coop — in the city. Of course, being that they’re chickens in Columbia, they would probably just be mediocre and produce eggs that are just big enough to be acceptable, even though you wanted better (here ends the absurd allegory).
According to the ordinance, you would not be allowed to have roosters and would be required to maintain the coop so it doesn’t emit a foul smell or attract flies. That’s all well and good, but where’s the push for backyard chickens? Has the organic food movement and other related culinary crazes gone so far that people are clamoring to raise and slaughter their own chickens? Or is it just about the eggs? Is Publix that bad?
Even Mayor Bob thinks it’s funny.
[Councilman E.W. Cromartie's] arguments did not deter Mayor Bob Coble, who voted for the ordinance by saying “Go ‘Cocks.”
If we didn’t have The Onion, self-described as America’s finest news source, where would we be? Surely, it would be without the news that archaeologists have uncovered the remnants of a truly epic keg party here in Columbia. Indeed, it was quite the kick-ass shindig.
[University of South Carolina Archaeology chair Winston] Eng said that the party can be divided into three generally agreed-upon eras, each marked by a watershed event. These include the Arrival of the Three Great Kegs, Brian Crying Like a Little Bitch, and the Lighting of the Bottle Rockets.
In addition to alcohol receptacles of every size and several cast-off contraceptive devices, Eng and his team also uncovered evidence of advanced toolmaking. The most prized discovery to date is a high-volume gravity bong, the sophistication and ingenuity of which appears to be unrivaled by similar THC-delivery devices found at other sites.
If you truly doubt the enormity of this event held in late February of 2010, just cast your eyes on the intricate illustration that shows what went down by the railroad tracks.
Only in Columbia could such an amazing kegger of such significance take place. We look forward to hearing more dispatches from the excavation.
Columbia man-about-town and former Rep. Bubba Cromer is quite a character. Even at 140 characters. The sasquatch enthusiast and white-trash chronicler had a burst of inspiration concerning the divorce proceedings between Gov. Mark Sanford and now-former First Lady Jenny Sanford. It’s best read in the voice of our gubernatorial lothario.
Don’t Look 4 me in the courtroom
My Lawyers stand in 4 me
Divorce Ct. Scares Me
My courage skimpy
Just read my statement
And call me WIMPY!
Brilliance knows many mediums.
We’ll never forget it. About five years ago, we went to cover an event that featured a woman running for agriculture commissioner of Texas. She began talking about feral hogs, something we found inherently comical. It’s most likely because after living in cities and suburbs our whole life, the idea of a “wild hog” that didn’t reference a running back lining up at quarterback for the Arkansas football team was funny.
For farmers, it’s not that funny. In Texas, it’s open season on feral hogs 24/7/365. And for good reason, according to our executive editor in the Lone Star State. They’re aggressive, destroy crops, and are the very definition of pests. Very tasty pests, once shot and barbecued. Sure, you could lose a couple acres, but once you get those bastards, it’s time for a slow-cook and a party.
Turns out, South Carolina has a problem with them too. A story out of the Beaufort Gazette says that South Carolina is sixth in the nation for population of the swine.
Carrying disease, eating “pretty much anything” and uprooting lawns, crops and golf courses, the pigs are a serious concern for wildlife officials in the 36 states with established populations, said Joseph Corn of the Southern Cooperative Wildlife Disease Study at the University of Georgia.
“Feral swine have a very high reproductive rate and are very hardy animals. That’s why we’re seeing all of these new populations,” Corn said. “Controlling an animal like that is very difficult.”
Hunting wild hogs, which can grow as large as 500 pounds, is legal on private property year-round, Dozier said.
What we were told is that these days, what happens is domesticated pigs escape and get out into the wild. Within a short period, they grow bristly hair and tusks, becoming a serious problem. For a lot of people, it could be time for an honest-to-God sausage party.
There’s an effort to stop people from actively adding to the population. Sen. Larry Martin prefiled a bill, which is in the Senate Fish, Game and Forestry Committee, to make it a crime to commit actions that could increase the feral hog population.
S. 932: A BILL TO AMEND SECTION 50-16-25 OF THE 1976 CODE, RELATING TO THE RELEASE OF PIGS FOR HUNTING PURPOSES, TO PROVIDE THAT IT IS UNLAWFUL TO POSSESS, BUY, SELL, OFFER FOR SALE, TRANSFER, RELEASE, OR TRANSPORT FOR THE PURPOSE OF RELEASE A MEMBER OF THE SUIDAE FAMILY FOR HUNTING OR TO SUPPLEMENT A FREE ROAMING POPULATION, TO PROVIDE THAT IT IS UNLAWFUL TO REMOVE A LIVE HOG FROM A TRAP OR FROM THE WOODS, FIELDS, OR MARSHES OF THIS STATE, AND TO CLARIFY THAT THIS SECTION DOES NOT APPLY TO ACCEPTED FARMING PRACTICES RELATED TO MEMBERS OF THE SUIDAE FAMILY.
A girl we dated once — it was in the recent past — said that we acted like an old man sometimes. We chalked it up to the fact that just bitching about things sometimes is cathartic, and that we listened to the “60 Minutes” podcast every week. Really — we’ve had a few minutes with Andy Rooney since we could watch television, so it was bound to take eventually.
Rooney has something going here that’s important. As in, to avoid losing it and violently destroying what irritates you, just complain for a few minutes and get it out of your system. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t (that train knows what it did, and deserved what it got — YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). In that vein, the old man that resides in the dark recesses of our noggin has something to say.
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Old Man Wolfe takes the keyboard.
To that student with the loud goddamn motorcycle — you can just fuck off to the ninth circle of Hell. Maybe you just moved in, a few blocks away, for the spring semester. Maybe a thoroughly sadistic person gave you that machine for Christmas. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. You roll up and down the road outside my place half a dozen times a day, and your fucking engine rattles the walls. I’m easily 50 yards away, and it damn near shatters the eardrums.
It’s obnoxious and a total dick move to ride that thing around town. You must have a serious adequacy problem (like another self-promoter I know) to behave in such a fashion. You ride that fucking thing, decibel levels higher than a 747 at takeoff, with your backpack, no helmet and no jacket. So, not only are you an asshole, you’re an idiot, too.
By the way — keep it up, and you may have a quite sugary gas tank. Take your crap to North Florida — this ain’t the place.
Fin.
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Wow. That was rough. Here we were, expecting something on shoes or how the waitress doesn’t keep the water glass full when you want it, but bothers you when you don’t, and, well, damn. Hate to see what happens when he opines about the kids down the street, acting like fools with their pants on the ground.
Certain holiday destinations in the South have been off the plan for us for years. Here, it’s Myrtle Beach and Hilton Head Island. Our suspicions were confirmed about the “Dirty Myrtle” when we went up there for the S.C. Press Association awards last year. It was like the cast of “Jersey Shore” thought mid-March was a great time to head down I-95. As for HHI, unless a friend of ours is taking us along, we like to stay away — too many people from Ohio. Hence, we fucking hate the Buckeyes.
The culture clash of dealing with Yankees and those from the frozen Midwest usually ends up with us sporting a quizzical expression that should be accompanied by a question mark over our head. A similar reaction occurred this morning when reading a story about some people living at Sea Pines on Hilton Head. One word: turkeys.
The Island Packet reports brother and sister Robert and Jennifer Klippel are suing Ralph Dupps for defamation. They say Dupps falsely accused them of stealing seven pet turkeys from his property six years ago.
Dupps says he found four of the birds in an island forest preserve, but never found the other three.
Petit larceny warrants were filed against the Klippels but were later dismissed. The Klippels then sued Dupps saying they had been falsely accused.
We hear they have alligator problems out there because of developers overdeveloping and the rich transplants who are willing to pay for it. Even money on a gator going gobbler hunting.
You have to hand it to Western criminal justice systems. Those states seem to have had a historical legacy of interesting conventions. In McAlester, Okla., there was an annual rodeo for the prisoners and some competitors who went up against the guys on the inside. It was a big deal in the town of 18,000 in the middle of nowhere. To give you an idea of how small this place is, the nearby McAlester Army Ammunition Plant (home of the “mother of all bombs”) dwarfs it in geographical size. Not that it really needs to, right? Just drop those bombs wherever you damn well please.
Anyway, like all governments, Oklahoma is hurting, so it ended funding of the hootenanny. The town would almost double in size every year and bring in a lot of revenue, but the state figured it couldn’t stick the taxpayers with the $120,000 bill so that inmates can tangle with a bronco or two. Come on, Sooners. Let’s get some sponsorships in there. You know, gun makers, bail bondsmen, Army surplus stores and the like.
As you know, an inmate without a bull to ride is a sad inmate indeed. And what of the clowns? WHO’S THINKING OF THE CLOWNS?
The infamous “demon sheep” ad by California candidate Carly Fiorina has gone beyond viral at this point, to where some enterprising stoner with political interests and a MacBook has thrown together what would be an even better ad. It’s the demon sheep set to Pink Floyd. So, boys, fire up the bongs, settle in on your bean bag chairs and enjoy this one. We did.
Though this evidently did not end with the quote, “Face it, girls. I’m older and I have more insurance,” Towanda the avenger seems to have shown up in Spartanburg, but her aim was a little off. Early Sunday morning (or late Saturday night, if you prefer), a woman driving on the west side of town got her share.
As the victim’s Mazda Protege was traveling down the road, a Ford Focus came up from behind and began ramming her car, continuously. This happened until both cars turned onto another road and lost control. According to the story, the suspect got out, apologized for mistaking the victim for someone else and hopped into a Crown Victoria for the getaway.
We’ve had our car beaten, kicked, keyed and possibly hood-jumped once, but bumpin’ and rubbin’ on the thoroughfares is a new one.
