cash for cadavers, the dead celebrity lottery!

Seal Number Seven...are you sure it wasn't a sea lion?

Cash for Cadavers (Oh, how I wish I’d known about them last week, I coulda made a fortune!) is a uniquely morbid, cynical, and celebrity-obssessed betting system.

So it’s got ME written all over it!

This is the way it works, and yes, it is real.

Each team chips in twenty dollars and picks twenty celebrities they believe will die in the upcoming year. Each celebrity is assigned a point value based solely on how many teams picked that specific person. For instance, everyone seems to feel that The Pope‘s number is up, so his point value is very low. People die, points are accumulated, and the lucky schmo with the most points at the end of the year wins the jackpot.

Points are only awarded to bona fide celebrities. For the sake of this game, celebrity status is determined by North American, non-categorically-specific media source. The Associated Press, for instance, runs a national obituary page every day. USA Today, New York Times, CNN, etc.
We emphasize that it must be a general news source; if your celebrity’s death appears in Field & Stream but nowhere else, he or she is not a celebrity.

Short, nasty and brutish. I love it! The team names are marvelous: My Death in a Box, Please Sir I Want Some Muerte, Tuesday is Rib Nite At Pete’s Crematorium, Croakin’ 2: Electric Deathaloo, Christopher’s Reeve’s Dancecard, and the delightfully obscure Waiting for Bengt Ekerot. Note that their definition of “Celebrity” is quite strict, and is, in fact, the most detailed part of the website. Well, it’s such a competitive field!

BART THE BEAR CLAWS: (Claws? Clause? Har har.) Animals can be played on Cash4Cadavers assuming that they meet the criteria for “celebrity.” Specific, named animals (like Morris the Cat or Bart the Bear) only; none of that “world’s oldest tortoise” crap. If you want to play the world’s oldest tortoise you’ll tell us its name, Poindexter. 

No word on whether stage names are enough to specify a celebustiff, nor any specifics about cases where the soul may have left the body but for whatever cruel and sadistic reason, the Devil hasn’t taken out the trash yet: I would call this the Kissinger Caveat.

Want to see how your picks are doing? Check the Deaths page: I only recognize Art Buschwald, Anna Nicole (the floater is hilarious! See also Paddy Mitchell, eh) and Barbaro. Hey, what’s Arianna Huffington doing in there twice?

I note with interest that it does not actually seem to be against the rules to kill the celebrities yourself.

What? WHAT? I’m just making note of the fine print is all…

Anna Nicole, our angel

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2-4-6-8 come on guys, hallucinate!

This scene, from Absolutely Fabulous, is the single best hallucination scene ever recorded.

Sure, when I got shot up with morphine I saw angels surfing on the rays of the setting sun over English Bay which was certainly odd, particularly given that my room had no windows, but not really out of the ordinary for me. Lady Penelope sitting on my legs and Richard E. Grant howling to the four winds about how he turned gay because he wasn’t man enough for me and I broke his heart: that would have been noteworthy.

But it would have been Gabriel Byrne in my hallucination.

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the trouble with Linux

PC, Mac, Linux

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pic o’ the day 2.0: Forest Fire

This photograph of a forest fire was taken by a team working for the Alaskan Interagency Coordination Center under the Bureau of Land Management. Click to enlarge.

Forest Fire by BLM

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shitty DIY

The Unnameable, by Rick GriffinThere are some things lurking in this world which were never meant to be. Absinthe. Uri Geller. The dodo. Nixon. The Tully Monster. Anna Nicole Smith. Ethel Merman‘s disco album. Eventually, a vigilant celestial being becomes aware and takes action against these abominations and outrages against all that is right and good.

We can only hope and pray that S/He takes action promptly against the atrocity known as fiberboard. This loathesome and amorphous agglomeration of unnamed and unnameable materials has long been the mortal enemy of those who respect the craft of carpentry, those who would live in a world free of synthetic imitations, and those whose very bodies reject the presence of formaldahyde-oozing $89 bookcases from Home Depot.

We at the ol’ raincoaster blog have some bad news for you. However shitty you may think this product already is, it’s about to get worse. Much, much worse. The AP has the report. Shit.

It's a shitty job, but somebody's got to do it

Home-buyers of tomorrow could find themselves walking across floors made from manure. Researchers at Michigan State University and the U.S. Department of Agriculture insist it’s no cow pie in the sky dream. They say that fiber from processed and sterilized cow manure could take the place of sawdust in making fiberboard, which is used to make everything from furniture to flooring to store shelves. And the resulting product smells just fine.

Ch’yeah, whatever. Call me when it saves forests and can hold a screw.

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