Kansas City News Blog

By CHRIS PACKHAM

Baracktoberfest: "The only thing I question is their method of death... I am convinced that when these animals are herded together, their instincts warn them of their final destiny. A warning would soon no longer matter as this island is transformed into a battleground of naked carcasses." A quote from an astute political analyst summarizing the collapse of the Republican party into a singularity from which not even light can escape? No, it's actually Dr. Frances B. Gross, the narrator of snuff classic Faces of Death,
waxing eloquent about baby seal clubbing, an industry that has sustained the simple native peoples of wherever for lo, these many years.

But still! In September, Barack Obama's campaign proved that it is the best at campaign donations by taking in "$150 millions of dollars," as British journalists might phrase it prior to opening their umbrellas and soaring away into the sky. Someday I hope for a transfer to the Pitch London bureau, where I can cultivate a fake British accent which I will then use incessantly when I come back to visit family in the U.S.

Meanwhile, Barack H. Obama visited Kansas City over the weekend, speaking to a crowd of 75,000 at Liberty Memorial, following a Friday appearance in St. Louis attended by a crowd of 100,000. People sure have the Beatlemania about the Barack Obama. Clearly, he will soon grow a mustache and start releasing experimental tape-splice sound experiments. According to CNN, McCain is down by five points nationally, leading one analyst to say, "I wondered what thoughts went through this man's mind as he fell from the sky at 80 miles per hour. Doctors later informed me the man suffered a painless death or he had slipped into cardiac arrest before hitting the ground." WHOOPS, sorry, that was the very plausibly named Dr. Frances B. Gross from Faces of Death again, talking about a horrifying failed parachute accident captured on film.

However, the Washington Post does have another pile of bad numbers for McCain, including the 60 percent of respondents who regard the Ayers attacks to be completely irrelevant. As a wise man once said, "When a woman heard the crash and went through her door, a body came flying through the window covering her in blood. There would be a long time before the people of this area would ever board a plane again." That man? Dr. Frances B. Gross. Good day.

After the jump, a local landmark explodes, PLUS: I have cracked the Halloween costume code and produced the ultimate Halloween costume. Click here, or on your dad:

Local landmark explodes in fiery conflagration: Well, slap my ass and call me Sally. Or spank my thighs and drive a stolen Buick. Alternatively, massage my scalp and hire a monkey butler: Hereford House at 20th and Main blew up early this morning. That's one less steak-grilling Kansas City landmark on the itinerary for visiting relatives. Detectives from the Bomb and Arson unit were on the scene, and they called in some federal agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. KCTV Channel 5 says it was possibly a bomb?! I'd saved up, like, 800 points on my Kansas City Originals card, and I was totally going to order up a big ol' plate of home fries. Now I guess I'll have to go to Jack Stack. Awesomely named Kansas City Fire Chief Smokey Dyer told Channel 5, "The explosion was definitely initiated on the interior of the restaurant and pushed or shoved that portion of wall into the street. It wasn't something that was on the exterior of the building," adding, "Tickle my butt and fry a shoe for Seder." I could write these all day, you guys.

Notably, this is right down the street from my office, so if there are any more forthcoming firebombin's, I hope they don't get any further north than 19th street. SORRY, BAZOOKA'S! Here is an email sent this morning by the restaurant managment:

Due to the explosion and fire early on October 20, 2008,
our Downtown location will be closed indefinitely.
We will make every attempt to honor your existing
Downtown reservations at our other Hereford House or
Pierpont's restaurants.

Please contact us here if you have reservations
that will need to be relocated.

Our thoughts and prayers are with our Employees
and their families at this very difficult time.

Thank you for your understanding.

It's Halloween, y'all: I have to admit that I'm getting into the holiday spirit. My girlfriend shot down my best Halloween costume idea last year, so we didn't dress up at all. The idea was to comb our hair identically, wear identical narrow three-piece suits and go as depraved, incestuous trust-fund twins, but apparently she couldn't get into the spooky spirit of the season. She is totally going to get visited by three ghosts for acting like such a miserly Victorian Halloween Scrooge. After a bout of seasonal indecision, I finally picked this year's Halloween costume, and it will beat your Halloween costume in much the same way that a toddler beauty pageant contestant's mother beats a toddler beauty pageant contestant backstage, which I understand is traditional and fosters a healthy spirit of competition.

What finally tipped the scales was my very moving and meaningful literary epiphany re: the fact that I live in surf 'n' turf America, where I'm free to eat my lobster with my prime rib. Thus, I give you the surf 'n' turf of Halloween costumes: I'm painting up my face like Heath Ledger's Joker; wearing a set of rotting Austin Powers teeth, horn-rimmed glasses and velour jacket; a Napoleon Dynamite wig with a VOTE FOR PEDRO T-shirt and — as my final lolotte to the very summit of Mt. Douchebag — a Justin Timberlake "dick in a box" strapped around my waist. I'm dressing like all of you guys, you guys. My girlfriend is putting together a sexy nurse/sexy devil-lady/sexy Ghostbuster ensemble and WE ARE GOING TO WIN THAT APPLEBEE'S GIFT CARD.