Monthly Archives: October 2012

There’s Gold in Dog Poop!

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Allow me to relate a story Willie Nelson once told me as we were getting blasted while I interviewed him. I shall regale you with the Reader’s Digest Version.

Willie’s first love is music. Everything else comes in second place. Period. Now this kind of outlook can put a great deal of strain on a marriage, especially when one is married to Willie Hugh Nelson.

Anyway, Willie told me that on this particular night (now early the next morning), he was out playing poker or some shit and he came home commode huggin’ drunk. His wife was kind enough to let Willie get in bed and crash into an alcoholic coma (as it were) for a little shut eye.

Needless to say the then-Mrs. Nelson was not especially happy about Willie’s behavior at the time, so, God bless her, she did what any Texas woman with a drunk, philandering husband would do. She sewed him up in the bed sheet! Oh, wait, this gets a lot better, Dumbasses. Mrs. Willie then proceeded to find the nearest broom. Educational Note for Young People: Broom handles were made of wood back then. The same kind of wood Roy Hobbs used for his baseball bat in “The Natural”. Hard, As, A. Rock

So here’s an extremely inebriated Willie Nelson sewn up in a bed sheet about to experience something that few men in History have lived through. A pissed off wife who sewed you into said bed sheet with a cement hard broom handle about to go Babe Ruth on your drunk ass. Simply put, Mrs. Willie beat the living dog shit out of the Red Headed Stranger at this, for Willie, most inopportune time. Babe Ruth hit 714 career home runs during his playing days. Mrs. Willie Nelson hit nearly 900, so it seemed to Willie, in just a few minutes.

That’s how I feel today – like Mrs. Willie Nelson went Mickey Mantle on my skull.

Therefore, today I will re-post a story that is still getting quite a bit of attention from Dumbasses around the world. It’s a steaming turd story of getting rich from dog shit.

You’ll thank me later.


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Takin’ Shit & Gettin’ Paid

OK, I admit it. The thought of this blog going down the toilet has crossed my mind from time to time. What seems like easy work to many people can be a very demanding task to those of us who are stoopid enough to write something that is hopefully clever and informative on a regular basis.

Alas, Dumbass News has gone to shit. Dog shit to be precise.

Let me drop the deuce on you. Metaphorically speaking of course.

Speaking of Tough Jobs

As taxing as it can be to come up with a good post every day, there are some jobs that make this one look like a walk in the park. The Doggie Park. Full of doggie doo doo. Bowser bombs. Poodle poop. Shih tzu shits.

I never really thought about it, I guess because I am not a pet owner, but all the Dog Parks and back yards in the country have got to be cleaned up every once in a while. Think about it. There are 78.2 million dogs in the United States and every last one of them has to make a doo doo at least a couple of times a day. That’s a mess (ha ha) of canine crap. 30,000 tons a day or 10 million tons a year to be exact. Put another way, that’s enough dog shit to fill up 3800 miles (267,500 big rigs) of fully loaded tractor-trailers ( lined up bumper to bumper from Boston to Seattle.

My Dad, a trucker for over forty years, is rolling over in his grave at the idea of hauling terrier turds from coast to coast.

Sorry, Dad.

There’s Dough in That Thar Dog Dookey!

As I read the source article for this stinker of a post, I got to wondering, what kind of Dumbass would actually have a job removing dog shit from parks and yards all over the USA?

Very smart Dumbasses, that’s what kind. These guys make a shit load of money.

All the information that I have given you today comes from a bidness named, I am not making this up, Doody Calls.  Other than the obvious pratfalls of cleaning up after Rover takes a healthy squat, Doody Calls provides a very valuable service to not only their clients, but to the rest of us as well. If not properly disposed of, poochy plops can leave behind germs and bacteria that cause heartworms, parvovirus, salmonella and e.coli! No shit.

I couldn’t end this screed without relaying to you SOME “Fun Facts” about greyhound grunt. Shamelessly stolen from the Doody Calls web site are these little nuggets:

  • DoodyCalls scoops over 3 million poops a year!
  • Over 8,000 dogs are happy DoodyCalls customers!
  • We are the FIRST pet waste removal franchise in the WORLD! (ed.-I believe that!) 
  • How many scooped poops does it take to make it to the top of Mount Everest and back? 400,000! 

Not an Endorsement

I am not plugging the Doggie Doo Doo Guys for any other reason than they are knuckleheads who have taken a dirty job and turned it into a money-making enterprise that is good for them and the communities they serve. I will, however, urge you to read their web page  and see what all they have to say. It’s really good shit.

Doody Calls. 



Selling Drugs Via Texting…To a Cop!

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I have a confession to make. I am a Gizmo-holic. Yes, I have traveled the rough and treacherous technological road to Gizmo-holism. I love gizmos and gadgets. desktop computers, laptop computers, iPads, GPS and all the cool little gizmo enhancers that go with them. I do not yet own all these electronic wonders. I will soon, though. Count on it.

I do have a problem, however, with cell phones. While in many instances cell phones prove to be life savers and just plain old handy. But, I do not like them very much. One of the most popular features of today’s cell phones is the ability to text a friend or family member. I am still trying to figure out why you would text someone when right there in your greedy capitalist pig hand is a $500 cell phone – a cell phone hundreds of times more powerful than the first computers! A phone to me means a phone call! Fuck texting. Use the damn phone for what it is made for –  making phone calls! Do I have to teach you dumbasses everything? Good Gawd, y’all.

Now, having said all that shit, I have written a few posts on dumbasses with cell phones who end up, shall we say, fucked. To see what I mean look here and here, and you’ll find dumbasses and their cell phones are not a particularly good combination. Well, guess what? I have come across another dumbass-with-a-cell-phone texting instead of making a phone call story. Go figger.

There’s this chick named Amy who like millions of other Americans has a cell phone. And like millions of other Americans she texts her friends, family and business associates. Of course, by “business associates”, I mean people to sell narcotics to. In a situation like this, texting is a real dumbfuck thing to do, but, being a mental midget, Amy texts her customers to meet her at Place A to pick up some stash. What Amy forgets is that if you text your “come buy drugs from me” message to the wrong number, the text is still there for the receiving party to read. A text of this nature in the “wrong” hands could be bad news for Amy. And it was. She sent her text meassage to a cop! Well, the cop’s face lit up like a fat kid at Chuck E. Cheese when he saw the text. Long story short, Amy got busted and now shares a cell (<— I made a funny) at the State Hilton with Marlene “Butch” Abernathy, the 3 Time defending Toughest Lesbian in the State Hilton award winner. Amy can look forward to fun and games with the other “girls” and probably write a book and go on Dr. Phil and become a millionaire ex-con bimbo. or a Cinemax at Night soft porn star recounting her days as a sex toy to a 6’3″ Lesbian in State Prison. Sick ain’t it? I am jealous.


Dumbass Tries to Rob Police Station, Says He Was Just Kidding!

I have more news regarding Mrs. Fearless Leader and her surgery, but I’ll spare you the details and simply say that the news ain’t all that bad, but it sure ain’t all that good either. She’s gonna be OK and that’s the main thing. With that being said, I’ll also tell you that she has a second surgery scheduled for Halloween Day. Dammit.

I am buried under an avalanche of stuff to do to keep the house running as smoothly as possible and at the same time be Dad to my two young daughters while Mrs FL is on the mend, so finding more than a few minutes to write ain’t happening yet. I promise to be back ASAP and Dumbass News will be bigger and  better than ever! Of course it would be very difficult to be any worse , but I am sure I could find a way if I tried.

It’s a tough row to hoe, but your Fearless Leader has it under control. Mostly. 🙂

Thank you all again for your continued support and prayers. They are greatly appreciated.

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There are Dumbasses and then there are Dumbasses. The story that I am about to tell you about is one of the latter – a full tilt boogie Dumbass. And a Future Prison Bitch.

Every day, I write about the stoopid shit that people do. That’s my job as Fearless Leader of the Dumabss Horde – to write about Dumbasses and the incredibly insane stunts they pull. The subject of today’s post is the leader at the halfway pole in the race for Dumbass of the Year, 2012. And that is saying a whole lot.

What I Mean

I did two quick mouse clicks and accessed the archives to Dumbass News and randomly picked out someposts from three consecutive days. These three stories (Nekkid Maids in Lubbock , Woman Takes Dump on Interstate & 73 Year Old Granny Dope Dealer)were, until I cam across today’s Dumbass, certainly receiving due consideration as Dumbass of the Year nominees. Not any more. The guy who stars in today’s episode of Dumbass News smokes the competition like a cheap cigar when it comes to the DoY candidates thus far in 2012. But, there is hope! While today’s Dumbass may be the Leader in the Clubhouse, it’s not even June yet, so who knows what Dumbasses await us over the next six months?

Gimme All Your Money!

When I read those few words as reportedly used in the commission of an illegal act, I think of a bank robbery. Or of some dipshit knocking off a 7-11. Or even a simple mugging. Today, I would be wrong.

Let me splain.

In the Dallas-area town of Wilmer, Texas (it’s near Hutchins…:) ) lives the Dumbass whose name will live on in Wilmer History long after his Earthly Demise. He will be forever known as the Dumbass Who Did the Stoopidest Thing in the Annals of Stoopid Things Done in Wilmer, Texas or Anywhere Else.

Keithan Manuel is an 18 year old Wilmer resident. From what could ascertain from the source article from CBS News, Keithan had had dealings with the Wilmer Police in the past. Anyway, Keithan (and who the hell names a kid “Keithan”? A Dumbass, that’s who. So it looks like Keithan came across being an idiot genetically) went to the WPD to check on some information on an arrest warrant. Nothing dumbass about that.

Then Keithan opened his mouth.

Upon approaching the Police Clerk, did Keithan cheerfully greet the Clerk with a familiar Texas “Howdy!” Nope. How about a “Good morning/afternoonn. Not this time. Keithan, with all the youthful exhuberance he could muster said, “Give me all your money!” OFFICIAL DUMBASS REMINDER: Keithan just demanded money from an on-duty Police Officer right smack dab in the middle of the Wilmer (Texas) Police Department! Did I mention that he also told the clerk that he (Keithan) was carrying a pistol? And that his hands were wrapped up inside a white towel as if he were holding something (a pistol maybe?) there? I have now.

As a Texan, I can assure you without one scentilla of hesitation or doubt, that this is NOT a good thing to do at a Police Station in Texas. The Law Enforcement Community in Texas, especially small towns, consists of men and women whose close relationship to the people they serve is considered to be of paramount importance in helping them discharge their duties as sworn Peace Officers as smoothly as possible. Again, as a Texan, I can also state categorically that walking into a building occupied by fully armed and highly trained Texas cops demanding money and announcing that you are packing a rod as if trying to commit a robbery, is not only a dumbass thing to do, but it is also a good way to gain 10 – 12 extra pounds. Ten or tweleve pounds of .45 calibre hollow points that have, with great prejudice, been dispatched into to your torso courtesy of Messeurs Smith and Wesson.

The Joker

He Was Joking!

Later, at the Dallas County Jail, Keithan told a local TV station that “I play like that all the time. I didn’t thinl she would take it seriously”. What a kidder that Keithan is! It’s a cryin’ shame that a young man can’t even walk into a Police Station with what appears to be a weapon wrapped inside a towel, announce to the Police Clerk that he is armed, demand the clerk’s money and then not have a good chortle with the Guys on Duty! What’s the world coming to? 

To top it all off, Keithan (what a pussy name) now spends his days in the Dallas County Big House under a total of $300,000 bail wondering why can’t the Wilmer (Texas) Police just have a sense of humor and what life in the Texas Department of Corrections holds for him. Prison bitch, anyone?

Where are Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson when you need them? Oh, wait. There’s no money to be made in this case. Sad, ain’t it?

Did I say how much I hated the name “Keithan”?


Dumbass Dies During Threesome!

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Just when you think things couldn’t get any weirder…

Not long ago I wrote about a guy who died while getting a lap dance from a stripper. At the time, I said something like, “What a way to go”. Although, deep inside the recesses my mind I just knew something more stoopid would eventually come up, I simply didn’t expect it to be so soon. I mean, geez, just when the Dumbass of the Year Award, 2012 had a clear front runner, the waters get murkied up again.

Death by Threesome

William Martinez was a 31 year old guy with ticker trouble – heart problems. He had just been to his cardiologist, who feared that William was suffering severe blockage in his heart arteries. The doctor then scheduled Guillermo (a lil Meskin lingo there) for some kind of medical test that would help determine the source of his (William) heart ailment.

Waiting for Fearless Leader

William never made it to that appointment.

He died the day before it was to take place. While engaging in a threesome! The other two people in this meange a trois included a friend of William’s and a woman. A woman who was not his wife!

For all you guys who are thinking about doing a cluster fuck with a group of people and your wife ain’t one of them, let this be a very stern warning. That shit can kill you. And if you make it through your little excursion into orgy-ness, your old lady will either a) murder you in a most violent, lingering and painful manner or b) slice off your gazebos with a rusty fishing knife dipped in turpentine, in which case you’ll wish you were dead. I’m just sayin’ and your mileage may vary.

The Grieving Widow

Mrs. Martinez  was shocked and horrified at the sudden demise of her husband, even if he did kick the bucket while boinking another woman and/or man. She was grief stricken.

She was grief stricken just long enough to pick up the telephone and call an ambulance chasing medical malpractice lawyer. You know the kind. The ones you see on TV. Their commercials usually begin with something like this: “If you had a cheating piece of aardvark shit of a spouse who died like a rabbit in heat while porking another woman, man or both, call the law firm of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe at 1-800-UFUCKINGPIG now!”

Mrs. Martinez then sued her dead husband’s doctor for all kinds of stuff basically saying that the doctor should have warned William about the dangers of “strenuous physical activity” before he was tested for his heart condition. I must agree with Senora Dumbass on this point. being in a threesome can be very strenuous physical activity. On the other hand, living through a threesome can lead to very strenuous physical activity as well. Very strenuous physical activity like running for your life from a pissed off wife with a rusty fishing knife dipped in turpentine while she is alternately screaming at the top of her lungs “Come back here, you steaming pile of zebra dung! I am going to cut off your worthless gazebos with this rusty fishing knife that I just dipped in turpentine!”

Anyway, the widow won the lawsuit.

Mrs. Martinez the Millionaire

Here’s an excerpt from the Reuters article from which I got this story:

“William Martinez’s death during a threesome, jurors found he was 40% responsible for his own death — perhaps because Martinez had a history of high blood pressure and was at high risk of having clogged arteries. That reduced the jury’s initial $5 million award by 40%, to $3 million.
Lawyers for Martinez’s estate argued his cardiologist, Dr. Sreenivasulu Gangasani, failed to warn Martinez to refrain from physical activity like sex. The doctor also failed to take a proper medical history when Martinez showed up for a medical appointment one week before he died, The Journal-Constitution reports.
A lawyer for Gangasani vowed to appeal the $3 million verdict for the man who died during a threesome. Though the award is set to go to William Martinez’s estate, it’s not clear if his widow or his two sons will have access to that money, according to The Journal-Constitution.

Let me get this straight. If I were to bite the big one during an extramarital threesome, my wife and kids could get millions of dollars, but if I keel over right now, after having been a faithful husband, doting father and all around nice guy who worked for over forty years, paying exorbitant taxes and now fighting with the US Gubmint to get my own money back so I can support my family, my wife and two little girls will get about two grand as month? Well shit! I know which way I am gonna die! Thank you, Jesus and bring on Jessica Alba!

And what was that lawyer’s phone number again? I’ll leave it to my wife. She’ll need it after my “physical strenuous activity” with Jessica Alba and her husband. I just hope I don’t live through it. The thought of a rusty fishing knife freshly immersed in turpentine is a rather spooky notion. At least it is to my gazebos.

I’ll be in touch, Jessica.

What a way to go.


Dumbass Psychic Should have Seen This Coming

Psychics. 99% of the American public knows that 99% of the “psychics” in this country are “psychic” in one way only. They know that there are plenty of weak-minded dumbasses out there who will fork over good money for a “psychic” reading, hoping against hope for some miracle in their lives. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in paranormal stuff, but I am not so quick to call Miss Cleo or one of her dumbass minions. But, again, some people put great faith in any old Miss Cleo, Sister Dora or Princess Jasmine and their “psychic” abilities, proving that many Americans are in fact weak minded dumbasses. Besides, you can buy a lot of beer and pizza with the amount of money you spend on one solitary “psychic” reading.

Read the rest…

Dumbass Psychic Should Have Seen This Coming

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Psychics. 99% of the American public knows that 99% of the “psychics” in this country are “psychic” in one way only. They know that there are plenty of weak-minded dumbasses out there who will fork over good money for a “psychic” reading, hoping against hope for some miracle in their lives. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in paranormal stuff, but I am not so quick to call Miss Cleo or one of her dumbass minions. But, again, some people put great faith in any old Miss Cleo, Sister Dora or Princess Jasmine and their “psychic” abilities, proving that many Americans are in fact weak minded dumbasses. Besides, you can buy a lot of beer and pizza with the amount of money you spend on one solitary “psychic” reading.

There’s a Rip Off in Your Future

If grown people want and feel the need to throw some of their hard earned cash on magic dog poop, a fart reader (like reading tea leaves except they read farts) or a “psychic”, I don’t give a shit. But when one of the charlatans takes advantage of a kid, they cross the line into “I need my ass kicked real bad” territory. Read on and you’ll see what I mean.

There’s this asswipe psychic in California (!) that was giving readings to a 12 year old girl !!! What. The. Fuck. That statement right there is a major red flag for me, but that’s just how I roll. Anyway, this boil on the ass of humanity psychic was telling this child that there was a terrible curse on her family and the only way to remove was to bring her parents jewelry to her (the psychic). So the kid did that. Several times. You can see where this is going. And it ain’t to Cash for Gold. The girls’ parents eventually caught on as to what was happening and called the cops. The cops did their duty and arrested this stoopid bitch and put her exactly where she belonged…in the fucking County Hilton, where she will have the joyous time of learning first hand what those Women Prisoners in Chains movies are all about. Enjoy the broom handle game, bitch. You so deserve it. Oh, yeah she was charged with fraud and extortion, so she’ll have a long, eventful career as a prison bitch. It couldn’t happen to a nicer dumbass.

A quick note to our “psychic” friend and future Cinemax After Dark star. You should have seen this coming.


Guy Robs Bank, Forgets to Take the Money With Him!

Another day, another visit to the doctor for Mrs. Fearless Leader.

I am still caring for Mrs. Fearless Leader following her surgery from Wednesday, so between that and being Mom and Dad for the two kids while Mom is mending is keeping me very busy. Free time is at a minimum. I promise to get some new stuff out there in a few days, so please bear with me.

Thanks again,
Fearless Leader

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September 19, 2010, a date that will live in Infamy. That was the date that I announced the Grand Opening of Dumbass News. The world has never been the same. And it serves the world right, if you ask me.

The first actual post to this blog was published the next day. It was about some dumbass bitch that let her boyfriend have Mad Monkey Sex with another woman for his birthday or some shit. We haven’t looked back since. In the intervening 20 mmonths or so I’ve written about some real stoopid people who have done some real stoopid stuff.  Dumbass Subject Matte, or as we professional blogging-type dip stick call it, DSM, has ranged from The Frozen Dead Guy who is still on ice in Nederland, Colorado (I used to live there) to a recent incident in which a drunk lady hit a cop in the head with a plastic ding-a-ling, or as very lonely women call them, “boyfriend”.

Odd, That

I come across some insane material in doing “research” for this blog. “Research” of course meaning stealing shit from other blogs slaving away for hours on end, employing a highly evolved and technically intricate form of Google Fu (typing in what are referred to as “search terms” into a Google “search box”) known to very few men, looking for Dumbass News-worthy stories.

While I have written a few stories that feature plastic weenies as protagonists, I have, surprisingly, not come across too many Dumbass Bank Robber tales. I “searched” the Dumbass News Archives, located in the left sidebar of any page, and came up with only a handful of Dumbass Bank Robber stuff – one about a guy who took a get away bus after a bank heist. Another one about one of the Biggest Dumbass Bank Robbers in History who, after committing the crime, went on his Facebook page to brag about it!

Such is the life of a Dumbass Criminal in 2012.

Until now.

The Plan 

When you look back through history, the guys really good at bank robbin’, Bonnie & Clyde, Jesse James, Billy the Kid, etc., were meticulous in the preparation aspect of the heist. Every single detail, no matter how small, had to be anticipated and possibly dealt with at a split second’s notice. Of course 99% of your Average Bank Robbin’ Population (ABRP) just walks into a bank, hands the teller a note saying he has a gun or bomb and give me the damn money. Not much planning involved. Not only did our Dumbass Bank Robber in today’s story not have a very detailed plan, he didn’t have a clue either.

Let me splain.

Some would-be Dumbass Bank Robber in Chicago was anxious to get down to the bidness of being caught on video by approximately 2 billion surveillance cameras located in the bank’s lobby. I have never understood that. Don’t video cams take, like, you know, video and shit? Real live as-it-happened documentation likely to be used as evidence against the Bad Guy when, if, he goes on trial? But, I digress.

Anyway, after literally seconds of planning his crime, the Bad Guy goes into the bank, passes a note to the teller saying he has a bomb, give me the money. Now comes the hard part. the Getaway! His heart pumping like a two stroke Briggs and Stratton lawnmower engine, the Bad Guy makes good his escape! “The heat will never find me!” he shouts in head as he leaves the scene of his misdeed. The heat will never find the money either. “Why?”, you ask, anxiously sitting on the edge of your computer chair, the tension in this story building to almost unbearable levels. Let me tell you why. The. Dumbass. Forgot. The Money. Yup. Left it at the bank.

Now, I have never robbed a bank and the thought to do so has never been that appealing to me, but I think this ain’t the way it’s supposed to work, is it?

On the Lam

As of this writing, the Little Dumbass Bank Robber That Couldn’t is still at large.

All this poor schmuck has to show for his efforts is a shit load of cops and Federal Agents looking for him and that ever-fleeting moment of triumph – fleeing the crime scene looking like he was shot out of a cannon. Oh, what a high that must have been! “I did it! I did it!” echoing in the Dumbass’s head as he flies into Freedom a rich man.

Then a little thing called “reality” sets in. He. Forgot. The. Fucking. Money. I think this is the proverbial stop that ruins a perfectly good fall from about 10,000 feet.

Thud. Just like Wile E. Coyote.