I know this is my second newspaper clipping article of 2011 already, but I'm really trying to get 'em in before the industry goes extinct. AOL is already tilling the world's largest content farm, and journalism is being put out to pasture.
This is my fourth-ever police blotter roundup (part 1, part 2, and the special animal edition). In these, I channel my inner Leno and scour for wonderful police blotter clippings from small town newspapers. Let's go...
We should've smelled the unpasteurized cheese on their breath.
Wait... explain how a bunch of random Canadians wandering around in your town ISN'T suspicious?
This counts as burglary?
I have two main theories. One, someone on meth who needed something to do with their hands all night long. Two, since this happened on February 13th, possibly a Valentine's Day present from her husband. I'd say both possibilities are equally viable.
You aren't buying the meth thing?
You just wait until one day you walk outside and your bicycle has been taken apart and put back together.
Well, the "ho, ho, ho" direction is far too obvious.
Perhaps it was just a little Christmas advice from Santa about what you should do if you ever have to jump off a cliff? Or the proper form when you're doing leg lifts to work out your abs? Or performing a crisp, Koko B. Ware-esque dropkick?
I think you may've buried the lead here.
Any chance this roommate happened to be a single white female? (Or, to update the reference, any chance this roommate happened to be Leighton Meester?)
Sometimes the seemingly innocuous details haunt you the most.
We can't see the rest of the article, but I'm assuming this gang was after 20-year-old Davis for stealing a pie off of granny's windowsill.
That's called a hooker, son.
Damn you, Christina Hendricks! How many lives must you ruin?
Good job protecting the victim's identity here, Liberal Media.
"Let's just refer to her as Michelle H. No, that's too obvious. How about M. Hudon."
The suspect has been described as ginger, tiny... but not Ron Howard.
If they ever have a police lineup there will be a lot of nervous, short, red-haired guys having to say the phrase, "They're after me purple horseshoes, you f*cking c*cksucker."
"Rupert the Interrupting Cow wh--" "Mooooooooooo!"
Sure, no one wants their home invaded... but what great validation that your jokes are funny. I bet he doesn't regularly get comments on HIS website saying "Your not funnie." (Especially when he writes about video games, the Bible, and, as I learned last week, rappers.)
Now that's how you get a lot of press.
I think this is the first time I've been able to look at a police blotter and say: Soul mates.
Ah yes, just like the "virus" that sent "emails" and "shirtless photos" of you to a bunch of "bus station skanks from Craigslist."
Raise your hand if you're as big of a nerd as me and briefly thought this was saying there weren't any electrical leads on the reassembled computer's motherboard. Yeah. I see you baby. Raisin' that hand.
This post was originally published on Tuesday, March 1, 2011 at 11:00:00 AM under the category News & Politics.