Got this from Christopher Slaughter, who was one of the people ripped off by the camera-toting con men I discussed in my earlier post. Here is the video they’ve made, showing two of the crooks who stole $200,000+ of their equipment. Contact info and reward details (yes, I said REWARD) are at the end of the film.
Stupido here is possibly the world’s dumbest crook. Along with a gang of pals, he posed as a member of a Portugese camera crew, and helped out a team filming in Hong Kong. They worked steadily, and apparently professionally, as a camera crew for two full days before pulling a disappearing act with all the gear that belonged to the independent television company they’d been assisting.
From BoingBoing:
“We’re a small, independent television production company in Hong Kong… last week, a group of con men ripped off a load of very expensive professional tv gear from us… cameras, tripods, a recording deck, wireless microphones… lots of stuff. They were posing as a Portuguese production company… very professional-seeming. They even shot footage of Hong Kong with our crew for two days before they did a runner with the gear! At any rate, we got a photograph of one of them, who for some reason thought it would be okay to pose for a tourist snapshot CARRYING THE CAMERA HE WAS ABOUT TO STEAL.”
UPDATE: they seem to be Brazilian rather than Portugese, and there is VIDEO of them here.
Half-baked, anyway. I suggest a scientific name Carlin Cheechinigus, but that’s subject to (dis-) approval.
This hallucinogenic beauty was caught off the coast of Maine, so the possibility exists that he was just on his way back from a wild party on the Gaspe, which would explain why he still looks half-baked.
Although it no doubt has an ironclad alibi. It’s underage, too, as are some of its most vociferous fans. Here is the report from the Bangor newspaper:
“Dude, it’s half orange and half, like, regular color for a lobster,” exclaimed Alyssa Bonin, 12, of Webster, Mass.
Sharp eyes there, Alyssa. Maybe a little bloodshot from the sounds of things, but still, sharp.
Mills intends to keep the two-toned lobster over the winter and have him on display for educational purposes, though he has no plans to name him.
“Lobsters are interesting but not personable,” he said.
We at the raincoaster blog beg, of course, to differ. Even our on the one hand shall not know what our on the other hand is doing
The rare 1-pound crustacean, caught earlier this week in Steuben, is a genetic mutation with a two-toned shell.
One side is the usual mottled dark green. The other side is the orange-red shade of a lobster that’s already spent some time in the hot pot.
The odds of this kind of mutation occurring are very rare – something like one in 50 million to 100 million, according to oceanarium staff. The chance of finding a blue lobster is far more common, at one in a million.
“Isn’t he pretty?” Bette Spurling of Southwest Harbor cooed Thursday as she stroked the lobster’s shell to calm him down.
Now that is the proper way to treat an addled celebrity. Not at all the way Jon Stewart did with the poor, hapless and handsome Butterscotch Stallion here (heartlessly stolen from Defamer):
From the Generator Blog
Woohoo, looks like Lucky Luciano might just get lucky if he plays his cards right.
Is that a “straight”? Or just a straight line?
Friday, September 20, 2002
Please note this is from the Archives. Fat Girl has moved on from Fat Girl Corner.
1) Specialize.
Remember, anyone can do a hand job, but it takes that certain something to do it in a pirate costume.
I used to know a woman who weighed maybe 95 pounds and looked about twelve; she worked Richards Street, before it was all organized crime, and she worked it dressed as Charlie Chaplin. She was very busy, right up until the day they killed her.
An editor I used to write for passed Richards every day on his way to work. One chilly Christmas season he passed a hooker wearing the tiniest of red microminis with a red bikini top and red bolero jacket, open in the front, even if it was trimmed with white fur. She had over-the-knee black satin boots and a Santa hat as well. This was too much, even for Canadian resolve, he just couldn’t stand it anymore, couldn’t lower his eyes and pretend not to see her.
The wall came down.
“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked.
“Oh no,” she replied gaily. “I’m never out here very long. ‘Scuse me.” And with that she got into yet another car.
There is a corner near my house, by the old Golden Buddha 
Monastery, that is the Fat Girl Corner. Sometimes it is Pregnant Girl Corner, because the easiest way for a junkie to get fat is to get pregnant, as they do not generally eat. But sometimes Pregant Girl and her friend, Pregnant Other Girl, are not there and it’s just Fat Girl or Fat Woman Who Is Too Old To Be Doing This, Really. But all the chubby chasers know where to go for what they’re looking for. Which brings us to:
2) Consistency.
Consistency is so important in branding. I’m not saying you need a logo, but if you work the corner of Hastings and Princess I don’t want to see you on Powell and Jackson, it’s just wrong. Your clients need to know where to find you and you can’t run a business like that from a laptop at Starbucks (they’d throw you out).
3) It’s a People Business, People!
I was on my way home from a business meeting in Gastown recently when I came across a Honduran hooker helping a wizened old drunk stand up. He really needed the help; I helped her. As we were struggling with the limp scareraven another hooker came up. Lean and tall, about seventeen with red, punky hair and ornamental piercings, her arms and legs were swinging that wide arc that tells you she’s flying on an invisible plane, and the sidewalk was going back and forth under her feet. She joined in the effort, grabbing the poor old fellow by the collar of his black suit with maybe a bit of his neck, too, and hoisting for all she was worth, about twenty-five bucks on a Friday night.
We got him upright, and I started to fasten his arms around the lamppost. The Honduran took one look at the newcomer and sidled away, as I should have. The new girl started screaming at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Well, I…”
“I mean what the FUCK are you doing? I mean, look at you, girl! Look at you!”
I guess she didn’t care for my preppy Esprit separates.
“Get out of here! I mean, look at you!”
By that point the old man had gotten his arms wrapped securely around the lamppost and was going nowhere, so I let go and walked away.
“Hey, you can’t just leave me with him! Where are you going?”
“You need to work on your people skills, honey,” I said, over my shoulder.
Remember, it’s a People Business.
raincoaster 