Great Wrapping Service... not

Amazingly, there are people out there who will pay someone else to do a terrible job of giftwrapping.

Read that again. They'll pay for a bad job. I mean, I know some people pay others to giftwrap, but badly? Yes indeed.

Personally I don't know why the good services even exist. If you hate wrapping that much that you'd spend extra on the wrapping, just go buy a pretty box. If it's too big, our families go for garbage bags with bows. Hey, it's the thought that counts, right? Um... or, it's the fact your useless boyfriend made an effort to wrap it. With his feet. Or blindfolded. Or while standing on his head. Or something.

CrapWrap Gift Wrapping Service
http://www.arcamax.com/weirdnews/s-461725-893269?source=1930

~ Elisa

Another Rescue

Yesterday I posted about an owl being rescued by firefighters. Today I have a story about a man being rescued. No, not a kitten up a tree. A man up a tree. Awesome.

http://www.arcamax.com/weirdnews/s-460280-645543?source=1930

How embarrassment!

~ Elisa

Fireys to the rescue!

An animal protection officer and the fire brigade called out to rescue an owl in Rayleigh, England, only to learn the owl was a fake.

http://www.arcamax.com/weirdnews/s-459593-172135?source=1930

And they were arranging the big aerial equipment, too.

Oops!

~ Elisa

Happy "Religion non-specific Day"

I'm five hours away from my keyboard for December 25th, so in my absence I'll leave you with some amusing reading from an early email that was forwarded through the entire world. Yes, yes, I know this has been busted as a rumour by umpteen websites. I like to think that the story itself is true, and someone just got silly and added a fake newspaper award to it. Anyway. Enjoy.

~ Elisa

PS. If you like the pic, click it to see some awesome images and desktop backgrounds.

PPS. Cross-posted to my other blog No Added Salt.



This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinner. It won first prize.

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in a X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.

Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny Hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

A Fantastic Christmas Present!

...or not!

With thanks to the BBC - Burger King has released a new men's fragrance that smells like meat.

Look, I honestly think they've got it wrong. It should be the WOMEN who walk around smelling like a piece of meat. After all, they say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach... so maybe burger perfume is the way to go?

~ Elisa

Quick Note

This blog is new and most of the posts are from my other blog, No Added Salt, at http://noaddedsalt.blogspot.com/ . So, you can see that the post frequency is a bit erratic (the posts from the old blog are in green). Hopefully I will be able to post here daily, now that I can concentrate on keeping the weird news seperate from my own life's strange news. Erm, yeah, or something.

~ Elisa

Drunken passengers sue airline for serving booze

A Florida couple aren't just blaming the airline for giving them free wine. No, apparently it's the airline's fault that he then beat up his wife.

What has happened to personal responsibility? Next we'll see overweight passengers sue an airline for providing food.

Drunken passengers sue airline for serving booze

http://www.news.com.au/travel/story/0,23483,24817396-5014090,00.html

~ Elisa

Nothing Else To Say Except "What the?"

I found this in a list of the top ten weird news stories for the year in the UK Telegraph http://www.telegraph.co.uk .

I didn't agree with most of the rest of their list, but this news story was new to me. And really, there are only three comments to make on this.

1. What the???
2. That's Herbie!
3. You. Need. Help.

Man Admits Having Sex With 1,000 Cars

~ Elisa

Cheerleading Nuns

Cheerleading Nuns.

What else is there to say?



~ Elisa

Poetic Justice...

Ok, while I don't wish a car injury on anyone, this guy allegedly kinda deserved it.

Maybe it will prompt his friends to confiscate car keys next time someone gets a bit too merry to drive.

Thanks to the Telegraph (UK): Suspected Drink Driver Ran Himself Over

~ Elisa