Thursday, February 8, 2018

I Have Alllllll the Questions for That Woman Who Flushed Her Emotional Support Hamster Down an Airport Toilet

My dudes. MY DUDES! 

I have AAAAAAALL the questions for Belen Aldecosea, the 21 year-old college student who was allegedly told by Spirit Airlines to flush her emotional support hamster down the toilet, rather than being allowed to take it on the plane from Baltimore to Fort Lauderdale.

Please permit me to postpone my Q&A of Belen for a brief throat-clearing digression.

Before I went to law school, I worked for a city agency called the Civilian Complaint Review Board, which investigated public complaints of police misconduct against the NYPD. And in my two years in that job, I learned pretty quickly--and any good lawyer will tell you this--that there is always ALWAYS more to the story. 

I recall one woman in particular who came downtown to our offices with a claim of force and discourtesy against a patrol cop who’d arrested her in the South Bronx. 

"I was just standing there with my linguana [iguana] on a leash, and next thing I know? I'm at Rikahs!" [Rikers' Island jail], she said indignantly in a thick Nuyorican accent. 

"Now wait a minute," I said, putting a hand up. "Something must have happened in between the cop approaching you to ask about your iguana on a leash and ending up on Rikers' Island? No?”

All of which leads to my many--MANY--questions for Belen. 

While the reporter did a good job of making a viral internet story on the click-bearing heels of "emotional support peacock-gate" and O.H.M.'s very own "emotional support giraffe" post, he didn't ask NEARLY enough questions.

Doesn't she have better things to do than a deep dive into Emotional-Support-Hamster-Flushed-Down-the-Toilet-Gate?, you might be asking yourself. And you'd be right to ask that question. 

But no, would be the answer. 

So without further ado, I give you quotes from the original Miami Herald article followed by all the questions the reporter should have asked, and that I certainly hope Belen's lawyer (she has retained one in this matter, of course) will ask, both of Belen and all the other people involved in this whole sordid, furry affair.

With her only friends hours away at campus, Aldecosea was stuck. She says an airline representative suggested flushing Pebbles down an airport toilet, a step that Spirit denies. 

M’kay.

Now this is a classic case of "she-said-he-said-she-should-flush-a-pet-rodent-down-the-toilet/he-said-he-never-said-she-should-flush-a-pet-rodent-down-the-toilet." 

And my question is, is there any record of this conversation, either orally or in writing? If not, I'm afraid the only two people who will ever know the truth about what exactly was said in that fateful exchange are Belen and the unnamed representative of Spirit Airlines.

And as will soon become clear, however, Belen arguably has a *slight* credibility problem.

Panicked and needing to return home promptly to deal with a medical issue, Aldecosea unsuccessfully tried renting a car and agonized for hours before doing the unthinkable. She flushed Pebbles. “She was scared. I was scared. It was horrifying trying to put her in the toilet,” Aldecosea said. “I was emotional. I was crying. I sat there for a good 10 minutes crying in the stall.”

Was Belen's medical issue clinical stupidity and lack of resourcefulness? Is that in the DSM IV? If not, Belen’s case proved that it should be. 

And HOW promptly was promptly? In the ten minutes that Belen and Pebbles were mutually scared in this Shakespearean toilet murder, did she ever stop to ask herself, “How have I made it to the age of 21 just doing what some random customer service rep tells me to do? How have I not jumped off a cliff yet? Should I follow my GPS into a lake like in that episode of the Office?” Maybe a lemming should be Belen’s next pet.

Aldecosea, 21, of Miami Beach, is now considering filing a lawsuit against Spirit over the conflicting instructions that wound up pressuring her into making an anguished decision with a pet certified by her doctor as an emotional support animal. She shared her story with the Miami Herald weeks after the story of an emotional support peacock — denied entrance to a United Airlines flight — went viral on the Internet.


Ah, you accidentally revealed the real reason you wrote this, reporter-guy, didn't you? It's okay, I get it. From one click-whore to another, I get it. Believe me. But at least ask all the questions, can't you? 


Like was Belen really "pressured into making an anguished decision?" Like was this REALLY a Catch-22? Was there really NOTHING Belen could have done other than flush the very creature she so desperately needed to the point that she got a fucking DOCTOR'S NOTE saying she needed a rodent for EMOTIONAL SUPPORT down the SHITTER? I mean, she couldn't have needed him THAT much?

I've had boyfriends I've treated better than this!

This case is much different, said her South Florida attorney, Adam Goodman. “This wasn’t a giant peacock that could pose a danger to other passengers. This was a tiny cute harmless hamster that could fit in the palm of her hand,” he said.

My question here is for the lawyer, Adam Goodman. Based on his name, Adam is a fellow traveler in the Tribe of Israel and we are probably related, if not through DNA then through American Jewish Geography. 


So from one Jew to another: What would your mother say about this? You know she thinks hamsters are disgusting, so good job overcoming your own genetic disgust to represent this worthy cause. 

But are you sure you've asked your client everything? Everyone thinks their case is a "much different" special snowflake.

How do you know Pebbles couldn't endanger other passengers? Maybe he had Hamster Plague? Would a jury find Pebbles tiny or cute? You'd better anticipate that. What is your cause of action here? What are the damages? A gift certificate to Petco? You gotta think these things through before you go running off to the courthouse steps, my dude.

Aldecosea says Pebbles was a true comfort animal and she had her doctor’s letter certifying the rodent. Dwarf hamsters grow no more than four inches and weigh less than two ounces. A typical cellphone is longer and twice as heavy.

But a typical cellphone doesn't shit and piss in your hand, right? There's not an app for that, at least not yet? Is there?

A Miami Beach High grad, Aldecosea played volleyball at Barry University before transferring to Wilson College in Chambersburg, Penn., last year. It was during her first lonely semester there that Aldecosea developed a painful golf-ball size growth in her neck, leading to a cancer scare. Frazzled that fall, Aldecosea decided she needed a distraction. At a Pennsylvania Petco, she bought calm and quiet Pebbles. The hamster lived in her dorm room in a small plastic cage with a green spinning wheel, always scurrying to the front of the cage to greet her owner. “She was so loving. It was like she knew I needed somebody,” said Aldecosea.

Wow. Lots of questions for Belen here. 

They let you graduate from high school? And they let you into not one college, but two? Do you think you were maybe lonely because you couldn't figure out how to operate a doorknob? Was Pebbles really so loving? Do you think she was maybe just using you for your lettuce? And if not, why did you betray her by, I don't know, DROWNING HER IN A MUNICIPAL SEWER?!

In November, Aldecosea learned the growth was benign, but it was still painful. Withdrawing from school and going home hoping to have it removed, Aldecosea booked a Spirit flight from Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport to Fort Lauderdale.

Okay. Critical plot point in the case (listen up, Adam). The growth was benign (although Belen's idiocy is malignant, unfortunately). So Belen was going home to have the growth removed, leading to the natural conclusion that it was not an emergency after all, so again I ask, could she not have gone back to her dorm to figure this out?

“They gave me the wrong information more than once,” said Aldecosea, now a student at Texas State University.

A THIRD college?


After hectic discussions, an outraged Aldecosea accepted a flight later that day to try and figure out what to do with Pebbles. But she had no friends or family in town to pick up Pebbles. It was then, Aldecosea insists, that an employee suggested letting Pebbles go free outside or flushing her down the toilet.

Wait wait wait wait. How do we know that wasn't just Belen’s brain giving her one kinda stupid option and one really stupid option?

For hours, Aldecosea said, she struggled with what to do. She contacted at least six rental car agencies, but no cars were available during the busy holiday season and she wasn’t old enough to rent a car anyway. A Greyhound bus would have taken days to get to South Florida.


Okay, but ... Once Belen figured out she wasn’t old enough to rent a car, why did she THEN contact FIVE more rental car agencies? 

With her flight boarding soon, she pondered whether to just let Pebbles free outside. She said she considered it more humane to end her life right away, and not let her run around scared in the cold, only to die getting hit by a car.


What made Belen think that Pebbles wasn’t smart enough to avoid getting hit by a car? Like pretty much every small rodent escapes death by car, if they’re spry enough, and if not, well, that’s just evolution for ya. Belen could have started a breed of feral super-dwarf hamsters. Total missed opportunity here.

“I didn’t have any other options,” she said.


I'll end on a statement as opposed to a question, and I'm going to say Belen is right. As a general rule, Belen does not have any other options.




I Found the Prayers Trump Forgot to Say at the National Prayer Breakfast

Sean Hannity, Who art on cable, hallowed be Thy name;
Thy ratings come; Thy rivals bomb, at six and again at eleven.
Give us this day our daily propagandist hothead;
And forgive us our brain-washed dumbassery as we forgive those who punch Nazis;
And lead us not into empathy,
But deliver us from common sense and a healthy dose of skepticism.
Appreciate the congrats.

Hail Melania, fair of face.
You look so bored with me.
Blessed art thou among my many women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Barron, child number 5 with wife number 3.
Holy Melania, Mother of Barron, pray we are WINNERS
Now and at the hour of our inevitable divorce and my felony sentencing.
Covfefe.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray my base will act like sheep.
When in the morning light I tweet
Some made-up shit about Wall Street
Enjoy!



Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Oh Look KKKeebler Elf Jeff Bong Sessions is Lying About Weed! Please Hang Up and Try Your Call Again

MYTH: Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ goal for 2018 is to see a further decline in prescriptions of opioids.

FACT: Jeff Sessions’ goal for 2018 is to keep Trump from screaming YOU’RE FIRED at him and put more brown people in jail for smoking weed.

MYTH: Jeff Sessions “thinks a lot of this is starting with marijuana and other drugs.”

FACT: Jeff Sessions knows full well that precisely NONE of “this” is starting with anything but Big Pharma’s corporate donations to Congressional campaigns and that the "gateway drug" myth is scientifically-proven unmitigated bullshit.

MYTH: Jeff Sessions cares deeply about public health.

FACT: Jeff Sessions could not give less of a shit about your health or anyone else’s and couldn't identify THC at a Grateful Dead concert.

MYTH: Marijuana is more dangerous than alcohol.

FACT: Alcohol is approximately 12 gazillion times more dangerous than marijuana.

MYTH: More than 37,000 annual deaths in the United States are attributed to marijuana use alone, not including accidental deaths.

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk that would be alcohol.

MYTH: Marijuana now kills more people than breast cancer.

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk that would be opioids.

MYTH: Marijuana is part of an organized corporate effort and conspiracy on par with Big Tobacco to lie to doctors, create drug addicts, and make as much money as possible as quickly as possible, no matter how many American lives and communities are destroyed in the process.

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk that would be opioids.

MYTH: Congress takes literal blood money from Big Marijuana.

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk Big Pharma is a better drug dealer than Pablo Escobar

MYTH: Jeff Sessions is a well-meaning public servant.

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk he’s an unrepentant racist and cracking down on legal weed is a way to incarcerate as many brown people as possible, as quickly as possible.

MYTH: Every day, more than 115 Americans die after overdosing on marijuana

FACT: Wait wait never mind lol jk that would be opioids.

MYTH: Jeff Sessions is a states’ rights conservative.

FACT: Jeff Sessions is a states’ rights conservative except when it comes to weed. That state right can go fuck itself six ways to Tuesday because brown people and hippies.




Tuesday, February 6, 2018

A Mighty Battle Hath Been Waged!

Dawn broke on the second of February, in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and eighteen.

A mighty battle was set to be waged at high noon on the sacred grounds of Gastineau Community School, at the edge of a rain forest, thick and dense with wooded spruce, silvery salmon, and of course—the fearsome bear.

The young soldiers rose with the eagle’s cry at dawn to prepare for combat, a standoff which would now and forever be known as THE BATTLE OF THE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKS!

Ms. Ferguson, the school librarian, sounded the rally cry on behalf of the Alaska Association of School Librarians and commanded all spectators and combatants to remain quiet and seated in the war theater such that the rules could be announced and the questions posed.

One mother knew well the strife her young soldier had endured under cover of darkness and a clip-on reading lantern, engaged in a months-long reconnaissance for the grueling contest: 


Reading (and re-reading) Freckle Juice by Judy Blume, Sugar by Jewell Parker Rhodes, Ms. Rapscott’s Girls by Elise Primavera, Sasquatch Escape by Suzanne Selfors, and some half-dozen others. Some of these were declared “SO BORING” and took a fortnight to conquer, whereas others were engrossing and surrendered with ease.

But ALL would face a dark reckoning that morning on the frontlines.

Battalions A through F clashed fiercely in a struggle for the ages 7 through 11 as Ms. Ferguson, armed with a heavy-artillery wireless microphone strafed the battlefield blitzkrieg-style with questions such as “In which book do two of the characters take a seat on a rock and strike a bargain?”

There was frantic scrawling with pencils and much whispering amid the three-soldier platoons, so that secret intelligence would not be collected across enemy lines.

Some of the supposedly correct answers yielded “challenges,” in which front-line infantry would confront the three judges with an alternative route to victory, only to have their pleas fall upon deaf ears.

All fought valiantly to acquire the high value target of participation in district-level battle, but only one team—the Three MouseCatEars known to civilians by their secret code name of “Team A”—was destined to prevail.

It was only by the grace of Divine Providence that the sole casualties in this conflict were the bruised egos of the defeated warriors, and a little bit of time spent reading a few books they didn’t necessarily like very much.






Monday, February 5, 2018

Here's How THIS Lady Eats Doritos!

LISTEN UP MAH BABES n’ BITCHEZ!!!!!

Has your “JFC, Are They Fucking Kidding Me with This” file gotten a little thin lately or nah? 
Probably nah, is the sad answer. 

Just when you thought nothing could possibly mark the onward march of social progress like Reba McEntire becoming the first ever female Colonel Sanders, Doritos has introduced LADY-FRIENDLY DORITOS, Y’AAAALLLL!!!

Pepsi, which owns Doritos (who knew?!) has apparently decided that all publicity is good publicity and is now making dainty and quiet chips for the ladies. 

According to a spokeswoman at Doritos market research, the “young guys” loud and proud “love their Doritos," but the ladies are harboring SHAME. 

Specifically, dudebros:
Lick their fingers with GREAT GLEE, and when they reach the bottom of the bag they pour the little broken pieces into their mouth, because they don’t want to lose the taste of that FLAVOUR, and the broken chips in the bottom . . . WOMEN WOULD LOVE TO DO THE SAME BUT THEY DON’T. They don’t like to crunch too loudly in public. And they don’t lick their fingers GENEROUSLY and they don’t like to pour the little broken pieces and the FLAVOUR into their mouth. (All emphasis added for effect).
OBJECTION, YOUR HONOR!!!! HEARSAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am raising my hand high and JUMPING UP at counsel table in the case of Feminism v. Doritos because I was not a part of this focus group. 

This is legit EXACTLY how I eat a bag of Doritos, at least once a week month year:

1. I pull into Breeze-In on Douglas (Alaska) and take stock of the different Doritos flavors available to me. Do I want “Blaze” which is like “Licking a Volcano?” Or should I go for original (a classic)? Or perhaps Cool Ranch? Nine times out of ten, I select Cool Ranch for Men.

2. I glance at the “nutrition" info on the back of the bag and quickly calculate that this not-very-large- bag of chips is 25% of my caloric intake for the day, silently say Fuck It, and pay for my purchase. I smile and wink at the male cashier so he knows I’m not a lesbian.

3. I then return to my car and tear open the bag with GREAT GLEE, allowing several chips to tumble out onto the floor mat where I promptly pick them up and eat those ones first, in compliance with the five second rule.

4. As I drive to retrieve or deposit my kids to or from whatever Kid Uber destination they’ve just directed me, I GENEROUSLY shove as many Doritos into my face as my mouth will hold. Then I open my windows no matter how cold it is and CRUNCH AS LOUDLY AS POSSIBLE FOR ALL TO HEAR. Think "driving a low-riding tricked out hoopty through the South Bronx in the 80's," except instead of thumping base, I am blasting MOTHER FUCKING MAN-CRUNCH.

5. I arrive at dance or figure skating or soccer or whatever, and make sure I save enough crumbs and FLAVOUR to make a YOOGE spectacle out of dumping all of the dust and crumbs into my mouth with a dramatic flourish as all of the other moms look on in horror. In fact, I like to open the foil packet all the way so it’s a flat piece of wrapper and lick it until I can see my reflection to re-apply my lip gloss. (Pro tip: A licked-up piece of Doritos foil makes a great compact mirror!)

6. I then muse aloud to no one in particular that you should really be able to order Cool Ranch Dust online, and although I have researched it MANY times, it does not appear to be available.


So I guess what I'm saying is that I would buy quiet Doritos, but then where would I find my voice? Sorry, but THIS lady will not be silenced by the processed food patriarchy.





Sunday, February 4, 2018

The Shit is Going Down and Here is What I Refuse to Do While it Happens

Do you care about America? Do you consider yourself a patriot? 

I do. 

My paternal grandfather was a World War II veteran. My maternal grandfather went to jail for union organizing. I practice constitutional law. I know what the constitution says, what it means, and how fragile it really is.

At this point, it's pretty clear that President Trump was elected with the help of a hostile foreign power in order to diminish America's global stature in the world and turn the American people on each other, and it has worked.

The law enforcement entities that are investigating these crimes--and the judges who have issued warrants--are, by and large, either Republicans or appointed by Republicans. So for Fox News to paint this as a political conspiracy against the incumbent administration is laughable propaganda.

This is civic rot from the inside out and our constitutional democracy is in grave peril.

It's also clear that Congress won’t do a single thing about it. Why? At least in part because Citizens United let corporations buy Congress, which means that Putin owns Trump, corporations own Congress, and guess who's left holding the bag?

We the people.

We must keep voicing this, or we will never reclaim our democracy. If we don't use our time and our voices to take to the streets—literally and figuratively—over what is effectively a hostile takeover of our democracy fueled by foreign propaganda, none of this matters, and we can flush the Great American Experiment down the drain.

There are no winners here except for corporate interests (including social media platforms like Twitter and Facebook that can’t or won’t curb playbook propaganda), oligarchs like Trump, his cronies, the one percent of earners, and their indebted elected officials.

2016 was an inside job.

Middle America and its $1.50 per paycheck raise are not "WINNING.” (Even Paul Ryan had to delete that tweet). Kids getting gunned down in school aren't winning. Coal miners waiting for jobs that don't exist aren't winning. Teachers and doctors being deported by ICE aren't winning. Women and people of color, our planet, and the teachings of Jesus Christ are definitely not winning. 

Let me say this as plainly as I can: EVERY ordinary American is losing BIGLY from this attack on our democracy.

So here is what I won't do: I will not participate in "divide and conquer" by turning on Trump supporters and wasting time arguing with them on the internet or anywhere else, no matter how much they insult me or how many mean names they call me.

As far as I’m concerned--and I've said this before--WE ARE ALL EQUALLY SCREWED AND WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. 

Divide and conquer only serves to conscript us all as unwitting foot soldiers in the slow, insidious takeover of our constitutional democracy, which includes our free press. In fact, that takeover DEPENDS on Americans cannibalizing each other so that the only people left standing are crooks and liars.

I refuse to do their work for them.

There is value in repeating this. There is value in fighting it. There is value in voting. There is value in running for office. There is value in protesting. There is value in writing and making art. There is value in peaceful agitating. 

There is ZERO value in arguing about whether it is happening. It is happening. And there is no value in trying to convince our fellow Americans otherwise.

It's time to quit wasting time.



Saturday, February 3, 2018

Watching the Godfather II With Geoff for 15 Minutes Like . . .

Scene: 9:00 p.m., Paige is sleeping over a friend's house. Geoff is tired and lying on the couch watching TV. I've just put Isaac to sleep in our bed. I emerge to eat popcorn and see what's going on.

Me: [Through mouthful of popcorn] Is this The Godfather?

Geoff: Two.


Me: Two what?

Geoff: It's The Godfather Part II.

Me: What happens in that one again?

Geoff: Dude. We're not doing this right now.

Me: This was the only sequel that won an Oscar I think. Did you know that?

Geoff: Uh-uh.

Me: [Sits down on other couch with popcorn, 3 minutes elapse] I actually don't think I've ever watched all of the Godfather movies. Like I've only ever seen parts of each of them.

Geoff: Uh-huh.

Me: Is that Al Pacino?

Geoff: Yes.

Me: Is Robert DeNiro in this one?

Geoff: Yes.

Me: Are you sure?

Geoff: AH!! Yes. He plays the YOUNG Vito Corleone in this one. It's a split narrative. Some of the movie takes place in New York in the early 1900s and the rest takes place in Lake Tahoe and Havana I think.

Me: What's the name of Al Pacino's character again? 

Geoff: Michael Corelone.

Me: Wait . .  Who's that guy?

Geoff: Hyman Roth.

Me: Who's he?

Geoff: He's a Jewish mobster.

Me: Is he double-crossing Michael?

Geoff: AAAAHHHH I said I'm not doing this!!! 

Me: Okay okay fine sorry. [5 minutes later] Is Marlon Brando in these movies? 

Geoff: No.

Me: Who did he play again?

Geoff: Vito Corleone.

Me: Wait is he the guy played by Robert DeNiro when he's young? Or is that someone else? Is he dead in real life?

Geoff: Do I look like Wikipedia?

Me:

Geoff:

Me: [sees popcorn is gone]. OMG this movie is so boring. I'm going back to sleep.