Daily Briefs: Del Tha Funky Squitiro Sapien
By Chris Packham in Daily Briefs
Tue., Nov. 25 2008 @ 10:48AM
By CHRIS PACKHAM
O Holy Econocalypse: There
should be a horror movie called Black Friday,
because obviously they chose to give the first shopping day after
Thanksgiving an extremely creepy-sounding name. Which, no criticism,
you guys, my new puppy's name is Li'l Princess Blood Feast, after the
shocksploitation classic Blood Feast, by Herschel
Gordon Lewis, and she's ADORABLE. I've heard some people insisting on
the unbelievable explanation that, for many retailers, "Black Friday"
is the first day that their books are "in the black" for the year;
Jesus, some people are gullible. Li'l Princess Blood Feast is getting a
puppy-sized blood-stained smock and a surgical mask for Christmas this
year, y'all, got it all picked out at PetSmart. What are you guys doing
for Black Friday?
After the jump, two of Kansas City's most dispiriting sinkholes of hope and civic aspiration: The Power & Light District's upcoming debt service payments and the Funkhouser administration. Click here or on your mom and dad:
WHOOOO! PARTAAA-AAY! The hours are long and the pay is just barely adequate, but when you see an old lady's eyes light up after tricking her into signing a title loan agreement, you know it's all been worthwhile. In my night job as a title loan officer, I've seen a lot of old ladies come and go, and I've repossessed a lot of cars. And if there's one thing I've learned in my years of doing business, it's that nothing is quite as surprising as that final balloon payment after six months at a low interest rate. In industry jargon, it's called "the shocker," and it has a corresponding hand gesture.
Now that it's clear that Kansas City took out a title loan in order to buy itself a new Power & Light District, "the shocker" is coming and we need to preemptively tighten our sphincters, according to economics and math and Mr. Yael T. Abouhalkah at The Kansas City Star. Yael points out that next May, the district has to create $20 million Americos in tax revenues to pay the projected annual debt service, or taxpayers will make up the difference. But at least Kansas City has a centralized hub for for unimaginative prefab architecture and beer in plastic cups, you know right where to go for that stuff.
Please can we just not be on TV this week? Now that the The Wall Street Journal has inexplicably weighed in on Mayor Mark Funkhouser's mutually needy relationship with troublesome spouse Gloria Squitiro, the whole story seems even more gross and girly than it was before. Besides inflating Squitiro's role in Funkhouser's campaign -- even attributing to her the specific ideas of other people -- the Journal's yucky "love story" angle touched everyone in places that we're legally required to keep between ourselves, our counselor and the anatomically correct doll. WORST QUOTE:
Don't tell me what I *HAVE* to do, Garry Cushinberry of Topeka, Kansas; you, your collection of Harlequin romances and your pretty pink lady-parts don't even live in my state, HONK, you've been zung. Don't you have a glass unicorn collection you should be dusting right about now? HONK! Like a diabetic injecting extra doses of insulin prior to consuming an ice cream cake, I had to double my injections of synthetic testosterone and deca-durabolin just to make my Y-chromosomal way through that Journal article a second time. If they get to lock up the conventional wisdom on this story, I can only assume tomorrow's Good Morning, America segment will play like a smelly Nora Ephron plot. UGH.
O Holy Econocalypse: There
should be a horror movie called Black Friday,
because obviously they chose to give the first shopping day after
Thanksgiving an extremely creepy-sounding name. Which, no criticism,
you guys, my new puppy's name is Li'l Princess Blood Feast, after the
shocksploitation classic Blood Feast, by Herschel
Gordon Lewis, and she's ADORABLE. I've heard some people insisting on
the unbelievable explanation that, for many retailers, "Black Friday"
is the first day that their books are "in the black" for the year;
Jesus, some people are gullible. Li'l Princess Blood Feast is getting a
puppy-sized blood-stained smock and a surgical mask for Christmas this
year, y'all, got it all picked out at PetSmart. What are you guys doing
for Black Friday?After the jump, two of Kansas City's most dispiriting sinkholes of hope and civic aspiration: The Power & Light District's upcoming debt service payments and the Funkhouser administration. Click here or on your mom and dad:
WHOOOO! PARTAAA-AAY! The hours are long and the pay is just barely adequate, but when you see an old lady's eyes light up after tricking her into signing a title loan agreement, you know it's all been worthwhile. In my night job as a title loan officer, I've seen a lot of old ladies come and go, and I've repossessed a lot of cars. And if there's one thing I've learned in my years of doing business, it's that nothing is quite as surprising as that final balloon payment after six months at a low interest rate. In industry jargon, it's called "the shocker," and it has a corresponding hand gesture.
Now that it's clear that Kansas City took out a title loan in order to buy itself a new Power & Light District, "the shocker" is coming and we need to preemptively tighten our sphincters, according to economics and math and Mr. Yael T. Abouhalkah at The Kansas City Star. Yael points out that next May, the district has to create $20 million Americos in tax revenues to pay the projected annual debt service, or taxpayers will make up the difference. But at least Kansas City has a centralized hub for for unimaginative prefab architecture and beer in plastic cups, you know right where to go for that stuff.
Please can we just not be on TV this week? Now that the The Wall Street Journal has inexplicably weighed in on Mayor Mark Funkhouser's mutually needy relationship with troublesome spouse Gloria Squitiro, the whole story seems even more gross and girly than it was before. Besides inflating Squitiro's role in Funkhouser's campaign -- even attributing to her the specific ideas of other people -- the Journal's yucky "love story" angle touched everyone in places that we're legally required to keep between ourselves, our counselor and the anatomically correct doll. WORST QUOTE:
"It's a classic love story," says Garry Cushinberry, a bank vice president who sat at the mayor's table at an awards dinner Nov. 14. "He's risking his political career for the woman he loves. You have to respect that."
Don't tell me what I *HAVE* to do, Garry Cushinberry of Topeka, Kansas; you, your collection of Harlequin romances and your pretty pink lady-parts don't even live in my state, HONK, you've been zung. Don't you have a glass unicorn collection you should be dusting right about now? HONK! Like a diabetic injecting extra doses of insulin prior to consuming an ice cream cake, I had to double my injections of synthetic testosterone and deca-durabolin just to make my Y-chromosomal way through that Journal article a second time. If they get to lock up the conventional wisdom on this story, I can only assume tomorrow's Good Morning, America segment will play like a smelly Nora Ephron plot. UGH.
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