So the deal is this: Sir Richard “Hottie” Branson, the closest thing England has to an attractive man, was going to rapell down the side of the Fantasy Tower at the Palms in Vegas, to publicise the new Virgin Airways flight from San Fran to Vegas. Things went about as smoothly as you’d expect, once you knew it would pop up here: ie, things got grossly out of hand, resulting in Sir Richard banging the side of the building repeatedly (whether or not it was his type we have been unable to determine; and oh, WHY must it be a mere building: Richard, call me) and also in his splitting his pants up the backside, revealing some dusky grey tighty greyeys, much to onlookers’ amusement.
Charges have been dropped in the sixth trial against Tammy Jean Warner of Texas City, Texas (where else, I ask you?) aka the Sherry Enema Poisoner aka Black Widow Amontillado in the case of the…uh…sherry enema poisoning death of her husband, Michael Warner, rumoured sherry enema (if not poisoning) enthusiast.
Despite the undisputed facts that he had a blood alcohol level of 0.47, that it was obtained through the use of a sherry enema (I want to know what brand…really, 0.47? Sounds like a party to me!) that he died thereof, that there was no-one in the home but the sherry enema abuser and his wife, and that the enema was not self-administered, the case was dropped for” lack of evidence.”
Perhaps OJ will put this on his list of “real killers” to look for.
First of all, given that sherry is about 14% alcohol, which I knew off the top of my head (hi Lydia!) and no, it’s not unusual…everybody knows that stuff… and that there are about 5 litres of blood in the average male…unless I’m drunk myself (never safe to bet against, as regular readers will know) that is about 0.1175 litres of pure alcohol, which could be obtained by absorbing 100% of the booze in 0.83928571428571428571428571428571 litres of your common-or-garden sherry, or about one and a quarter bottles. Which, at $18.99 for a 750 ml bottle of Tio Pepe, is nobody’s idea of a cheap way to get high/dead.
Second, sherry has been known as a deadly threat for years. YEARS. Why isn’t this a controlled subst- okay, why isn’t it a MORE controlled substance? Eh? I ask you that. Even Edgar Alan Poe wrote a cryptic warning, perhaps (from what I hear of his habits) himself all too familiar with the sinister beverage’s deadly effects, although there are no eyewitness reports that he was a particular enema buff, some slashfic notwithstanding.
Third, if he was deliberately trying to kill himself, why couldn’t he simply have done as thousands of sherry enthusiasts through the ages have done and wait for the next morning’s hangover? Believe me, motivation for self-annihilation is never stronger than in the throes of a truly epic sherry hangover.
In shocking news from exotic Nottingham, we have learned that a disgruntled and highly competitive chocolatier has attacked and “inappropriately handled” the truffles of his competition.
raincoaster 