WMOB: wiretap radio!

Forget Howard Stern, Rush Limbaugh, and the other mixed nuts clattering around inside your radio. Forget the Sopranos. It’s time to get real. It’s time to tune in to WMOB: Wiretap Radio!

You’re about to meet Fritzy and Frankie, two of the cuddliest, criminalest, crotchetiest capos ever crapped out by the big O.C.

Thrill to their breathless confessions on covert FBI wiretaps:

Wife troubles.

Mistress troubles.

Weight troubles.

Bowel troubles.

and, in possibly-related news: Where can you find a good cannoli these days?

Oogatz!

All these episodes (with full transcripts) and more await you at WMOB: Wiretap Radio, the partner site of the well-known and well-loved The Smoking Gun.

Fritzy, youze guyz!In the course of a federal racketeering investigation, FBI agents and prosecutors received court authorization to wiretap the home telephone of Federico “Fritzy” Giovanelli, a Genovese crime family soldier. The feds hoped to hear Fritzy discussing mob business with fellow New York wiseguys, conversations that would then form the basis for a RICO prosecution against Giovanelli and Co. As it turned out, during the six months the FBI was listening, Fritzy was fairly careful — there was little talk of mayhem and only occasionally did he slip and refer to his criminal enterprises (and then it was often just about his gambling operation).

Frankie Condo, yo!But while the tapes do not contain the sort of reckless chatter that sent John Gotti away for life, they’re remarkable for the funny, profane, and whimsical conversations Fritzy had with his Mafia cohorts, namely Frank “Frankie California” Condo, a fellow Genovese soldier. Like two old hens, Frank and Fritzy would gab daily about life’s rich pageant, their conversations a stream-of-consciousness potpourri. While most men their age were out working, the duo would convene on the telephone in the early afternoon — both speaking from their homes — and launch into wildly veering conversations. A typical 15-minute chat could touch on sex, work, girlfriends, vitamins, movies, enlarged hearts, cholesterol counts, and marital strife. Peppered with malaprops and featuring Frank and Fritzy’s Central Casting voices, the tapes are a raucous, slice-of-life look at two hoodlums.

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Political Mistress Poetry

and quite frankly, given the looks of some of them, this is probably as romantic as their textual tributes are every going to get. Why is it that most contemporary political mistresses look so much like giraffes in schoolmarm wigs? Lewinsky may have been chubby, but at least she had fabulous hair.

Christine Keeler

Stolen from Wibbler‘s post on the Boris forum, and quite surprised I was to see it there. It’s originally from Fork in my Eye, which sounds almost as painful as having an affair with a politician.

Political Love Song

I’ll be the Petronella Wyatt
To your Boris Johnson

The shy undergraduate
From Portillo’s youth
More than a footnote
In your memoirs
A flattering testimony
When the papers hear the truth

I’m a diligent under-secretery
Ambitious, sharp and keen
We’ll out-scandalise Profumo
Make Back to Basics Squeaky Clean…

It only gets squidgier from there. Read on at your peril…or your lunch’s.

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quiz: serial killer or programming language inventor?

Bill. Gates. Under. Arrest. And not for making crappy products either 

The overlap is surprisingly small, given that the social skill set for each is identical.

Score: 8/10
Pretty good; it seems you know your JavaBeans from your fava beans,
your slashers from your Slashdotters.

Not too scruffy, considering they actually had two serial killers I hadn’t heard of in the lineup; back to CrimeLibrary for me! Need to tighten up my mad serial killer ID-ing skillz. Thanks to Timethief for the link…gee, she hangs out even weirder places than I do!

I actually frightened my father once…well, a few times, but this once was, we were sitting in his living room watching television and a commercial for some crime show came on. As pictures of each serial killer flashed onscreen, I said their names aloud, just before the announcer did. After twenty perfect hits my father turned to me and said, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Serial Killer or Programming Language Inventor
Test your skillz here

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now it can be told: Howard K Stern admits his sperm is useless

Gleesome Threesome?and Larry Birkhead‘s is better.

Howard K. Stern has reportedly admitted he’s not the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s daughter Dannielynn and is now willing to sign over the paternity rights to the man who believes he is the baby’s real dad, Larry Birkhead for the right price.

Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a full-service lawyer. Not only will he be your beard, your bagman, and your drug runner, but he’ll also park custody of your kid until such time as the economics of the situation have been resolved to his professional satisfaction.

I do not know and can not say whether Howard K Stern and Anna Nicole Smith ever had sex, but I think we can all agree that he has certainly fucked Larry and Dannielynn over royally.

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Dorcs! the hottest trend in footwear (for suckas)

Stolen from The Manolo, who got it from Hilary, who got it from This Hour Has 22 Minutes, here is a lovely CBC-production-values-worthy commercial for that superstar of the footwear fashion world, Dorcs!

And here’s what I have to say about that:

I know many a geek. I know many a nerd. I know many a wonk. I know many a D&D player. I even know a woman who makes her living making suits of ring mail.

But, thankfully, I do not know anyone who would wear these things publically. Do I??????

It’s astonishing the lengths to which people will go to justify their purchase and public wearing of these hideous plastic gnome-sandals.

“They’re fun!” leads one to speculate unkindly about how existentially bleak their lives must have become.

“They’re comfortable,” really means nothing but “I’ve given up trying and my spouse and I haven’t had sex in three years, but I’ve come to accept it.”

“They’re in now,” really just means “Everyone in my Dungeons and Dragons group is wearing them.”

“I wear them all the time,” followed by a raised eyebrow, hopefully begging puppy face means “The scene I will throw having a self-esteem meltdown is far, far more painful than simply swallowing your opinion and enabling me, so what’s it gonna be?”

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