Bird Flu strikes Sesame Street

I guess it’s Death to Muppets Day on the ol’ raincoaster blog. Just go with it.

a saw, a subway, and a poignant teddy bear rescue: YouTube is there

 

From Gawker

Because You Demanded It — deranged man attacks subway rider with industrial tools, then absconds with teddy bear on continued crimewave. The Today Show has the goods above. Shocking, as even with the trials and tribulations of a normal New York subway commute, one rarely expects an assault from a pair of cordless reciprocating saws. And there’s some question about whether or not MTA workers at the scene fled and/or observed the carnage with bored disinterest. See zone-flooding repetitive linkfest after the jump for full details, but the upshot is that the alleged saw-wielding maniac has been apprehended, and the victim is recovering from his wounds in the hospital. Plus, as Newsday notes, subway officials don’t think this will make customers feel unsafe, and they’re right — an interviewed straphanger says of the saw attack, “It doesn’t happen that often.” [emph. added]

Link roundup and more here.

Okay people, what was I just saying about do-it-yourselfers? These people should be stopped before they attempt to teddy rustle again.

Surely Canadian Tire sells some kind of DIY-er-proof fencing. Like, for when they have doorcrasher sales on Motomaster batteries and shit. Round ’em up and let God sort ’em out. As long as the corral “needs work” they’ll be content. They may not even notice; perhaps we could send them to Gitmo to put in a pool and squash court.

Does anyone have before/after pix of Alderson?

Durham University: parent’s dream, wanker’s delight, plumber’s nightmare

All I want to know is, what in the name of all that is holy are they feeding these boys?

I’m assuming it’s a boy’s dorm. I lived in a girl’s dorm, and I can tell you that’s not neccessarily a given.

From Josh in the City, right here on WordPress.

Durham University

My Neighborhood, for real

So, as you might already know by my blog irregularity, I am experiencing a power crisis. I am without electricity. In Canada, we call this “anhydrous” but you might call it any number of things, including inconvenient.

But among other things, it means that I only have electricity between midnight and five in the morning, when I can safely run a power cord to the outlet down the hall without anyone ratting me out to the building manager.

However.

There are those who could bust me. In my hallway, there is a youthful Chinese girl who is carrying on an affair with a man on one of the upper floors, but who doesn’t dare let her father, with whom she lives, know. So, every night about twelve-thirty, I hear her door open and the elevator going up. About three, it comes back down and she goes back to her room.

She’s not about to rat me out for using the power. It’s mutually assured destruction.

When I go out to unplug the apparatus, sometimes I see some unusual things.

It’s four-thirty in the morning. It’s the Downtown Eastside. Of COURSE I see some unusual things.

But among them I do not expect to see an actual scimitar. Apparently, instead of the tai chi ladies who practiced there last year, each dawn is welcomed by an actual, fucking, practicing fucking, samurai.

He’s out on the patio, practicing his moves. I am well aware it should be a katana instead of a scimitar, but what can I say, the man is versatile.

And armed.

Oh, who are the people in my neighborhood. In my neighborhood. In my neigh-bor-hood? Oh, who are the people in my neighborhood. The people that you meet each day?

The samurai has a big sword
Don’t mess with him or you’ll get gored.
He practices each day at dawn
Could skewer you just like a prawn.

‘Cause the Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
In my neighborhood.
He’s in my neigh-bor-hood!
A Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
A person that I meet each day.

Oh, trysting kids are scaredycats.
Their dad might find out, don’cha kno?
They sneak around, it takes real gumption
They can’t expose me: M. A. Destruction.
Oh, a Samurai’s a person in my neighborhood.
In my neighborhood.
In my neighbrhood.
And the trysting kid’s a person in my neighborhood.
They’re the people that I meet
When I’m walking down the street
They’re the people that I meet each day and, by silent mutual agreement, do not appear to recognize.

Operation Global Media Domination: no more games

TIAIt seems nobody cares if Harry Potter is dead. Nobody but the BBC, that is, which commented on my post about the story in the Guardian. The BBC is trawling my blog for readers: while I am somewhat stunned at this micro-, nay, nanomanagement, I’m okay with it if they’ll only give me the linkie luv. Translation: they don’t allow you to leave the URL of your blog your signature, ie like this: raincoaster. Frightfully Web 1.0 of them.

In other OGMD news, the Mento and Diet Coke Fountain Madness is dying out as those mad scientists lay the smackdown on YouTube and the video has been kaput for a week now, after nicely threatening the existence of my blog. I wonder how long you have to respond to those threats before the powers that be nuke the blog. Could be tricky, as I do not actually have electricity at home at the moment.

And although for the past several days it’s been beating the coprophilia out of the Beautiful Agony post, today nobody is interested in Watching the World Cup For Free. Is it over or something?

I only care about the Stanley Cup, yo. Do they even have ice in Carolina?