November 9, 2010
how to get out of jury duty
When asked by the judge in a Cleveland, Ohio, courtroom if any of the prospective jurors knew anyone who committed any crimes, Backderf raised his hand and said, “I had a close friend in high school who killed 17 people.” Backderf was friends with serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer in high school.
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I’ll remember that next time.
I guess it’s finally time for me to tell Cindy my Jeffrey Dahmer non-anecdote. You think?
Yes, please! I need a Jeffrey Dahmer non-anecdote.
It was on account of what you said about vegetarians and feral hogs.
Once upon a time there was a cafe on Halsted Street in Chicago, where since the 1970s at least the proprietor, who himelf shunned meat, served espresso and pastries and maybe light vegetarian nibbles.
And one day a friend, who was known for blurting out peculiar observations, mused aloud to me and Jon on the oddity of being a vegetarian only to have your son killed and eaten.
Yep. The proprietor’s son was one of the young men murdered by Dahmer.
Told you it was a non-anecdote.
Me too. This Derf is an interesting dude, by the way. Thanks, Luke.
Okay. I’m going to go back and watch Joyce and Earl again.
Did you ever hear Debbie Harry’s story of being trapped in Ted Bundy’s car after taking a lift from him one night and clawing her way out of it via a tiny crack in the window before he could take off? He had it all kitted out on the inside, no locks, door handle, nothing. Completely smooth.
Holy crap.
Okay this shit is scaring me. Sick bastards. That whole get-in-the-back-seat and find it’s lined in body bags is, well–I can’t think about that or I won’t sleep tonight. And I love Debbie Harry. We used to have an album that had “I Hear You Talkin’ on the Telephone” on it, and the light was always beautiful when that was playing.
It’s okay, Daryl. She had long fingernails and a don’tfuckwithme attitude, and she is still alive. It’s got a happy ending. I think she has a new record out and everything.
Well good. I don’t want that happening to anybody. Also–I knew a kid when I was in my early teens (Bob Good, I shit you not) who once had an escaped Chimpanzee break into his house, beat the crap out of him, drink a bottle of Mr. Clean, and eat a bag of potatoes before the police got him. That boy was not right after that, and the story dogged him his whole life.
Well, damn, Sheila. That’s one fine non-anecdote.
I’m pretty sure I could kick the window out of a car at the drop of a hat.
Another thing you can do? Put your fingers over a person’s eyes from behind (guess who!) and press in hard. That person will beg you to let him know what will stop that from continuing to happen.
This cartoonist is cool. He’s somehow put me in mind of a Bronx rock band I heard at a party 3 years ago, called Fly Ashtray. They were good.
Apparently for a while Bill Murray was wandering up to people in Central Park and putting his hands over their eyes. When they whipped around he giggled and said “No one will ever believe you!” and skipped away.
[...] Daryl Scroggins: Also — I knew a kid when I was in my early teens (Bob Good, I shit you not) who once had an escaped Chimpanzee break into his house, beat the crap out of him, drink a bottle of Mr. Clean, and eat a bag of potatoes before the police got him. That boy was not right after that, and the story dogged him his whole life. posted by Deron Bauman in animals, brain damage, from the comments, no shit, psychology, vegetables, war | * | 1 comment [...]