#KILLTHEKARDASHIANS

DISCLAIMER: THIS FOLLOWING POST IS ENTIRELY SATIRICAL AND FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY I DO NOT CONDONE ANY ACTS OF VIOLENCE AGAINST ANYONE, EVER.  (UNLESS THEY LIKE, REALLY, REALLY DESERVE IT.) -KRUM

Throughout history, countless individuals have been put to death by their fellow man.

Additionally, the "crimes" that have preceded socially sponsored murder have varied in magnitude:

Capital punishment was the remedy for over 160 crimes in 17^th century Britain including cattle stealing and not wearing a silly wig in public…maybe. And of course, time shan’t forget the virulent wave of lynchings African-Americans suffered following the Civil War; it was not unlikely for a black man to be put to death for merely flirting with a white woman (for all you clamoring for a racist jok here: yes, Tiger Woods would have been lynched like, eighty times :))

Clearly, executions have been dealt for minor infractions we now consider trivial and downright ludicrous.

            Conversely, there have been those who are so morally reprehensible, so symbolically malevolent, that their deaths have been considered a necessity. There have been those killings that have served as a means to better society, to deter people from committing similar wrongs and to tell the world “Hey, this shit simply does not fly anymore.”

One family has infected every aspect of American contemporary culture with their repulsive materialism, sheer idiocy, and overall disregard all that is pure and good.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we must Kill the Kardashians.

I’m not calling for more witty jabs on SNL or a picket-line protest outside the E! Network headquarters. I’m talking about the public decapitation of each Kardashian, Jenner, Odom-Kardashian, and Jenner-Odom-Kardashian-Humphries-Hitler on the White House lawn. Justin Bieber or Tony Bennett can sing the national anthem, depending on who is available. It will be broadcast in 1080i, screened in 3D and streamed wirelessly for all to enjoy. The whole thing will be sponsored by Apple, because what better way to think different than shedding ourselves of social pariahs, right? Let’s not discount social media; The trending topic #KilltheKardashians will be a mainstay on the Twitter homepage for days and the Kardashian Execution Facebook Fan Page will get more “Likes” than a 16-year-old with vacation cleavage’s default.

Think I'm being absurd? Hear me out.

The Kardashians symbolize all that is wrong with the world and we’d be a lot better off without them. Vanity, Greed, Gluttony. Kim, Kris, Khloé. I’m not going get too detailed with each of the Kardashians’ krimes because

A)   I’m a heterosexual male, so my knowledge of Kim, Khloé, and the One No One Kares About is fairly limited.

B)   I’m an American, which means it is my God-given right to make impactful decisions without researching all the facts.

 Rather, to illustrate my point, allow us to consider the tale of Marie Antoinette:

Antoinette was the Queen to King Louis XVI, the ineffective monarch of France prior to The Revolution. While the peasantry starved due to bread shortages and inflation, Antoinette spent thousands on lavish trips and elaborate attire.  Furthermore, she was notoriously promiscuous; Antoinette was rumored to engage in affairs with famed sportsmen like the Baron de Besenval, while the rest of the country struggled to maintain steady home lives. Unconcerned and seemingly unaware of the growing duress in Paris, she remained a mainstay in the public eye while contributing nothing to society. Sound familiar?

Eventually the French people could stand it no longer. They eventually stormed the Bastille, captured the King and Queen, and chopped her fuckin' head off. Fast-forward 122 years and Paris is regarded as the world’s most romantic city and home to thousands of super suave club owners. We gotta do this shit.

We must execute the Kardashians for the betterment of the world.  Just think of the various social groups that would receive immediate benefit once we gave Kim and Co. the old chop'n drop.

               

1.    Young Women

No longer inundated by role models who promote sex tapes, unrealistically huge asses and shitty perfume, the female population of America will be freed from the spell of the Beverly Hills Bitches. A great lesson will be taught to girls from Barstow to Boca; slutty and superficial is not the way to be, because you’ll be killed on national television. First Female President, here we come!

2.    The Economically Unsatisfied

The past year has been marked by Congressional mismanagement and Occupy protests. It’s clear that most of the 99%’s demands have not been satisfied.  While there are no clear solutions to our economic woes, killing the Kardashians would no-doubt appease the masses.  What better way to put a smile on an unemployed person’s face then killing a cunt that had a ten million dollar wedding, (not to mention the job creation that will occur as a result of the proposed execution spectacular).

3.    Black Guys

NFL and NBA lockouts. Record sales in the toilet. I blame it on distractions and stress. The Kardashians have proved more disastrous for successful black men than sickle-cell and the cops combined. Therefore, by eradicating the Kardashians, we can aide our beloved athletes and entertainers. I mean come on, whatever happened to good ‘ol-fashion groupies, anyway?

So, I urge you, loyal readers, it is time to band together. We will no longer stand for profligates, fools, and unabashed whores to dictate our lives. Write your local congressperson, take to the computers, and state your claim:

 IT IS TIME TO KILL THE KARDASHIANS.

END.

La Puta de TriBeCa

Greetings my loyal Krumquats, Krumpet players, Krumbelinas, Krumpilstiltskins. (Feel free to refer to yourselves as any/all of the above monikers. Or none….dick.).

 I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written an anecdote-type post. Unfortunately, my life has been rather uneventful.

Until now.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present The Tale of the TriBeCa Prostitute.

It was Friday evening. With law school finals freshly behind us, my lady friend Jaclyn and I treated ourselves to a pretentious meal at one of TriBeCa’s nouveau eateries.  (Y’know the type. The restaurant that revamps poor people cuisine so foodies think it’s chic.;“ Ooh Melinda, can you pass the agave-glazed Cup of Noodles?).  After dinner, we made our way through the cobblestone street towards Broadway in hopes of hailing a taxi.

Yet these plans were for naught.

Before I could raise my hand to signal a fleeing cab, a flash of red darted across my periphery. Something caught my eye. Or rather someone.

 

She stumbled down the steps of Nobu, as if she had a few too many, been forcefully ejected, or a delicious swirl of both. She wore a puffy faux-furred parka, gold hoop earrings, and two balloon-sized breasts that sat high inside her snug fire-engine dress. Clearly m’lady was a class act, but I paid it little mind. Until she clomped her heels in our direction. 

“Ex-excu me…b-b-b-ut…can you p-p-please hhhelp?...taxi?”

Jaclyn’s hard stare softened at the sound of the woman’s meek tone. 

“I…n-not f-from h-h-here”

Like any normal New Yorker, I began to ease away from this crazy bitch. Unfortunately, I have a compassionate girlfriend.

“Okay, we can help. Where are you from?”

Goddamnit, Jaclyn.

“F-F-Frisby.”

I did a mental Google to determine if there was some foreign land called Frisby that had a primary export of slutty chongas.

“Oh, okay, Frisby. Where is that?” Jaclyn cooed.

“D-d-da B-B-Bronx”

Ahhh. So she’s from here. But, not from here.

“Okay, Sweetie, we’ll get you home.” Jaclyn turned to me.

Before I could voice my disapproval, the woman’s eyes welled up with tears.

“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!”

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Pedestrians began to stare. So much for my desire to be a bad Samaritan.

I turned and whispered to Jaclyn:

“I don’t know…how do you say ‘WTF’ in Spanish??”

Jaclyn realized who her boyfriend was and decided to take the reigns.

“Miss? Miss, what happened?”           

I couldn’t help but notice the tattoo running up her leg into her lady parts. That, and the copious amounts of glitter puffing up in my direction as she wept.

“H-He took e-e-everything…”

My thoughts were confirmed. She was a ho. For sho.

The woman stopped sobbing. She raised her head, revealing a fiery face that seemed to match the color of her skintight polyester. Her eyes bared the intensity of some terrifying Scarface/Hulk Hogan hybrid.

“I’M GOING TO KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKA!!!!!” She bellowed behind gritted teeth.

Jaclyn jolted back. Hey, If there was a tiny Spanish woman who was capable of making me shit my pants, she was a runner-up at least.

 “Who is he? What did he do?” Jaclyn pleaded.

“I AM GOING TO GET A GUN AND CHUTE THAT MOTHAFUCKA IN DE FACE!!!”  Tears and rage began to spill onto the sidewalk. More people stopped walking.

I redirected my energies to hailing her that taxi. Thankfully, a Punjabi pal swung by and scooped her up. She thanked us, and resumed sobbing as the yellow chariot began to escort her back to the BX.

 

 There were so many questions.

1.     Who was “He”?
 2. And if “He” was a client? What kind of assbackwards trick takes a hooker to Nobu?
 3.  And if you can afford Nobu, why would you need to “take everything” from her?? Clearly, his priorities were askew.

4.       Furthermore, if you can afford Nobu, why would you have solicited services from the Lady in Red? You can’t do a little better buddy? I’m not saying go all Client Number 9, but come on! She was rocking Baby Phat! In Nobu, goddamnit!!

3.     If "He" did "take everything" How could she afford to take a cab up to the Bronx? They charge like a 5 bucks a block! And to Frisby, no less! (Wherever/whatever the fuck is). It’s not like she could carjack him. She said she’s going to get a gun. She ain’t packin’! Poor Punjab.

4.     Is it possible she was boning a sushi chef? Me so horny, indeed.

 We theorized for hours. Whatever became of the Frisky Frisby-ite is unknown. But neither Jaclyn nor I will ever forget La Puta de TriBeCa. 

End.

The Brooklyn Brine Pickling Kit complaint

I've never written a complaint letter, but I bought this thing and it fucking sucks dick. So as an angry Jew, I took up my divine right to complain about it. Read my complaint letter, I think it will be a good template for you when you want to bitch about shit in hopes to get free shit. Enjoy.

To Whom It May Concern:

Recently, I purchased the Brooklyn Brine Pickling Kit from my local Whole Foods. A pickle enthusiast myself, I thought this purchase would lead to hours of pickling enjoyment. When I opened the box at home, it became clear that my fun idea would become an annoying inconvenience.

To put it in another sense, the kit is misleadingly bare.

1. There is no indication that you will need more than what is in the box.

Okay, I understand it would be impossible to package fresh vegetables in the kit for numerous reasons. That's why I purchased cucumbers at Whole Foods along with the kit. However, when I opened the box, the instructions called for apple cider vinegar, garlic cloves, and dill sprigs. This was not indicated anywhere on the outside box. Now I must return to a supermarket and get these items. I'm a fairly busy person and I don't have time to hunt for uncommon items like apple cider vinegar and dill sprigs. Who even knows what dill sprigs are? Not this guy, that's for sure.

It seems pretty clear to me that this issue should be alerted to the consumer before he purchases your product. Everyone who buys this kit will have this issue. Everyone.

2. The instructions are lame.

When I purchased Brooklyn Brine Co.'s product, I expected a hearty instruction booklet, complete with colorful diagrams and recipes on how to make unique flavor batches like I've come to know and love from the brand.

What was given to me?

A single, flimsy instruction card with only one recipe how to make plain pickles. Boooo-ring.

On Williams-Sonoma.com, the product explanation includes "Recipe Cards (original and alternatives).  My kit had no such cards.

If this is a fluke and I got a bad box, my apologies, but I've looked at other pictures of the kit and there seems to be no recipe cards.

According to Restatement of Contracts, any false representations (the claim about recipe cards) made to induce the buyer to a purchase (which it did, because I want to make cool flavas) can be subject to legal remedy.

While I'm not that much of a loser to take up legal action, I do think I'm entitled to compensation.

Furthermore, from a business perspective, it's wrong to advertise your product as having something it doesn't. Also, who would want to make plain pickles? You're Brooklyn Brine, if you're gonna make a pickling kit, do it with pride.


Finally, I am not a crazy person. This is the first complaint letter I have ever written. I'm not a crotchety old lady, but rather, a 22-year-old student who wanted to blow off some steam from Finals Week by getting his pickle on.

Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing back from you regarding your intentions to remedy the situation.

Sincerely,

Evan J. Krumholz, Esq.

that little fagelah inspired me.

For those who don't know, a video of a 14-year old (Is that how you write that? I'm never sure) lamenting bullying and sexuality has gone viral. While I sympathize with the troubled youth, I never will deny myself a chance to parody. So meh.

5 Fictional Cities That We Should Occupy

As we barrel forward through time and space, two things seem to grow exponentially with each passing week. 

1.    The amount of women who claim that Herman Cain has touched their boobies.

2.    Occupy movements

The Occupy Wall Street protests have spilled onto Main Street in a big way.

In cities all over the world, pockets of protesters have emerged: incessantly beating drums, making angry signs with Sharpie markers, and refusing to shower.

While I sympathize with the plight of the 99% (I too don’t have a job and want more money), I believe their energy is not being directed at the right locations.

Occupy Dallas? What is there a shortage of big belt buckles?

Occupy Toronto? Socialized Medicine and some of the best strip clubs in the White North! Come on now!

Thus, I turned to my faithful friend, Television, and came up with 5 places that are truly in desperate need of Occupation.  So get marchin’.

5. #OccupySpringfield

 

For the last 20-something years, C. Montgomery Burns has exercised complete control of wealth in the beloved town while destroying her beauty and denigrating her people. He has polluted the water with radioactive three-eyed fish. He has released the hounds on countless members of the 99%. Overall, Mr. Burn’s unfair business practices have forced countless into a cycle of debt from which they cannot recover. REMEMBER WHEN HE TRIED TO BLOCK OUT THE SUN TO FORCE RESIDENTS TO DEPEND ON NUCLEAR POWER? Then Maggie shot him, I think.

4.    #OccupyDuckburg

 

 

 “Life is like a hurricane, here, in Duckburg”.  It certainly is.  I don’t care if there are race cars, lasers, air–o-planes; a society cannot be equal if one duck has so much wealth that he houses it in a giant water tower. Furthermore, a society cannot be equal when that water tower is filled with so many gold coins that the aforementioned duck can dive into them like a porpoise and burrow into them like a groundhog.  Aren’t those coins hard? Wouldn’t that hurt? Something horribly disproportionate is goin’ down in Duckburg.

  

3. #OccupyEmeraldCity

                                  

 

The people’s demands were simple: A heart, a brain, and courage. Just some organs and some balls. But The Wizard’s countless promises to deliver are for naught.  “You’ve had them all along” he claims. This is not about maintaining the status quo, this is about change, asshole! No more flying monkey attacks! No more wicked witches! The Munchkins of Oz may be small but their grievances are vast. Even outsiders see the wrongdoings of the Wizard. One recent visitor expressed an immediate desire to return to rural Kansas rather than walk a foot further into Oz. Have you been to Kansas before? It fuckin’ sucks! Jesus, A fuckin’ gold city while people live in little huts in the woods with lions, tigers, and bears that will rip their fuckin’ faces off!? Ever take the Yellow Brick Road out of EC? Pretty depressing. There’s no place like home, indeed.

2. #OccupyQuahog

 

Talk about wasteful spending! Mayor West has dispatched the entire Quahog police department to Cartagena to search for Elaine Wilder from Romancing the Stone, commissioned a solid gold statue of Dig ‘Em Frog, and spent countless tax dollars to find out who’s been stealing his water (Hint: it was the plants in his office when he would water them). This guy’s such a crooked character; I bet he’s embezzled thousands just for taffy. He is a man who loves his taffy. Mmm.

1. #OccupyLibertyCity