LINDEL TOUPS JR.
If there is one thing we love here in Louisiana, it’s prison. Not only are we the prison capital of the United States, we are the prison capital of the world.
We incarcerate people at a rate five times that of Iran and thirteen times that of China. One in eighty-six Louisianians drinks toilet wine and shits in front of other adults. Never mind, it would be more accurate to just say one in eighty six residents is incarcerated.
Since we are number one in prison, I guess you are wondering what we are last in. We rank at the bottom when it comes to things like education, adult literacy, and Waffle House decorum. Thank God for Mississippi, which keeps us from being dead last.
So it makes all the sense in the world that Lafourche Parish would try to “rededicate” funds set aside for its public libraries to build a new jail. That’s where Councilman (and local library hater) Lindel Toups comes in. When asked about the local library, he was quoted as saying, “They’re teaching Mexicans how to speak English. Let that son of a bitch go back to Mexico. There’s just so many things they’re doing that I don’t agree with. … Them junkies and hippies and food stamps (recipients) and all, they use the library to look at drugs and food stamps (on the internet). I see them do it.”
Man, I just love gathering up all my hippie friends and heading down to the local library in our magic car, which runs off of Obama’s love. We are greeted by our friends, the junkies, whom we love to sit by. We just hang out all day together, collecting welfare and looking at pictures of drugs and food stamps on the internet. Then, we go commit voter fraud after playing the knockout game. We usually round out the evening by taking everyone’s guns, waging war on Christmas, and drinking soy milk.
In what universe does Mr. Toups live in? I should note here that the jail is in awful shape, and because of various human rights violations, they are one step away from having the dreaded federal government step in and do something about it. We could raise taxes, but that’s pretty much illegal down here and could get you shot or branded a communist for even suggesting it; however, “rededicating” money from a well-run organization to a shitty one doesn’t seem like redistribution of the wealth at all. Not one bit.
Luckily, fifty-four percent of the people in my Parish are not as ignorant as Mr. Toups. We voted 4601 to 3958 to let the library keep its money, this time. Enough people realized that things like literacy, access to information, and Mexicans learning English could make our community stronger so that in the long run we might not need so many jails.
How He Can Redeem Himself: Mr. Toups “rededicates” his life savings towards ESL programs for immigrants.
Meet Dustin Davenport (top right) and his merry band of ghost hunters. They camped out in the abandoned LeBeau Plantation, which they were convinced was haunted. After a futile attempt in spirit summoning, they became discouraged by the lack of paranormal attention they were receiving. Dustin, the alleged ringleader of a complex ghost hunting ring that has ties extending as far as Texas, decided to burn down the plantation in an alcohol/weed fueled rage after being spurned by snobby spirits. You would think that ghost hunters are the kind of people who are used to dealing with rejection, but you’d be wrong.
A lot of young folks get caught up in ghost hunting because of the rock star lifestyle. The babes, the notoriety, the glamorized struggle with the afterlife, it can all go to your head; therefore, when a ghost decides to reject your invitation to the renaissance fair, it’s hard to keep from snapping. One minute you’re speaking softly into a dark room and the next you’re lighting a fire inside an antebellum plantation. Before you know it, you’re in back of a squad car and some douchebadge just uttered the six dreaded words no ghost hunter ever wants to hear, “We just called all your moms.”
For the record, I totally admire Mr. Davenport. Ghost hunting is pretty cool. It’s like bird watching for people who think birds don’t have enough magical powers. Let’s put this into perspective: he broke into an abandoned mansion, got wasted, yelled at the air for ignoring him, then burned the fucking thing to the ground. That sounds like a fun and unforgettable night. The only thing here that pisses me off is that I was not invited.
How He Can Redeem Himself: If he says he really burned the house down because it was a remnant of social injustice and a byproduct of great atrocities. Seriously, how much trouble would he have gotten in had he just said the ghost of a tortured slave ordered him to do it? The ghost believers would have understood his position, and most of the non-ghost believers would have sympathized with the cause. He would have been out of jail in time for the renaissance fair, and who knows, maybe a certain someone/something would be waiting for him.
Did you know that there are approximately thirty thousand lions left in the wild, and for about forty thousand bucks, Nathan Askew will let you personally lower that number yourself. He owns Bullet Safaris. Nathan takes you to Tanzania, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and South Africa to kill off some of the rarest animals left on our spinning ball of pollution. So take your entitled, wealthy predatory ass to Africa and throw enough money at Nathan until he helps you build a wall of lion carcasses around your insecurities. And if you have enough money, that wall can also feature leopards, hippos and elephants. Yes, even elephants! You may have qualms about making Dumbo as dead as your soul. Relax, Nathan’s website eases any sympathy for these dickhead elephants:
“These are not the same animal that your kids feed peanuts to at the circus – these things are big and don’t like people. Elephant in some areas are very aggressive toward people and several are killed every year as problem animals.”
Really though, these problem elephants are just aggravating vegans who hate your freedoms and want to take away your guns (probably because you keep shooting them in the face in front of their children).
If you think I’m being hard on hunting safari animals, I’m not. It really is a dangerous sport (for the animal). You have to walk around, find something that looks cool to take a picture with dead, and then put it between some cross hairs and then move your finger. That sounds pretty manly, right? You can then post a picture of you standing on its lifeless corpse and say, “Hey, look what my checkbook and finger killed from fifty yards away!”
Every time I’ve gone hunting, I felt like a bully and a wus for killing some furry creature that was just minding its own business. When I became a man, I stopped hunting and started picking up hitchhikers. Stay with me here. If you’re into danger, what’s more likely to kill you, a flock of hapless ducks or a drifter? I’m going with the itinerant bag of failure desperate enough to flag down traffic. So now you’re sitting there, ballsy enough to let a stranger into your Hyundai Excel, and you’re wondering if you’re going to have to fight him to the death in about five minutes. It takes men of extreme confidence and security to open themselves up to that sort of vulnerability, something most hunters I know don’t have. And it beats hunting because the risk of danger is more realistic and exciting, and the the rewards are always greater. You could make a new friend. Maybe a cute little kid gets to see his hobo grandfather for Christmas. A crackhead makes it to his favorite crack selling spot just in time to get the last rock. No leopards had to die to so that you could look yourself in the mirror. I should note here that I am a huge hypocrite and have no problem gutting a flopping fish because fish can’t scream. I also eat meat, like every day.
How He Can Redeem Himself: Nathan buys a town car and drives around the slums of Cape Town giving rides to strangers for the next ten years. I know he could do it. He picked up and moved to Africa and started his own business. That alone takes more guts than shooting some clueless lion napping under a tree.
PASTOR DANNY DAVIS
Leave it to late night infomercials to realize the depths of human depravity. Pastor Danny Davis, a self described “Prophet of God” can be found around 3 in the morning preying on the gullible and desperate by pushing something called No Evil Oil. Yes, that’s really the name of his product.
Pastor Davis’ pitch goes like this: If you’re having money, health, or relationship trouble, it’s because of a “stinking devil!” Basically, your life sucks because of demons, evil spirits, and witchcraft! You don’t have to change one bit; all you need is a little bit of his No Evil Oil.
He would have been better off calling it Divine Secretions or Slippery Angel Lotion. Why the dumb name? I have no idea, but let’s just reason this out here: Oil is neutral. Evil is bad. Those things together imply that malevolent oil exists. Stick “No” in front of that, and it means that his oil is not evil, so I guess it goes back to being neutral again. You realize that I cannot even knock him for false advertising because of his own boneheaded technicality.
Normally, if I have to watch some dork with a pencil goatee and cheap suit pretend to have super powers on TV, Spiderman or whomever will usually throw them into a volcano in the next two hours. Unfortunately, this is real life, and this guy is touring the country and making a living by swindling people who think that rubbing No Evil Oil on their dicks will make them stop craving gay sex. Note: That is how No Evil Oil is produced.
How He Can Redeem Himself: He admits to being a fraud and convinces his followers to start being better people instead of carrying around a vile of his semen.
I have to confess here that I did call his hotline, but all I got was an answering machine asking for my information. I was going to say, “Oh, is this No Evil Oil? I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number. I was trying to order some Yes Evil Oil.” In any case, the joke is on me because Pastor Davis sells your phone number to other hucksters. The next day I got about a half dozen calls from unlisted numbers telling me I had won a free cruise, qualified for a loan, etc.
I then sent him an email asking if he could send me a special batch of No Evil Oil that contained some of his mullet clippings, but apparently he’s really busy doing the lord’s work because he has yet to respond.
You know what they say, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that viscosity has its own inherent morality.
Man, I remember when guns used to be cool. Now, thanks to all these open-carry dorks, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing one in public.
First, the dorks came for the fedoras, but I didn’t speak out because I didn’t wear a fedora.
Then, they came for the cargo shorts, and I didn’t speak out because I didn’t wear cargo shorts.
Now, they are coming for the guns! Forget about Obama, it’s the libertarians we have to worry about. Being pro-gun is becoming synonymous with being a paranoid, insecure dweeb who lives in a fantasy world where inhaling the farts of the free market makeS you big and strong.
But back to Kory, he’s not your average Rand-sniffer who uses his AK-47 to silence the ridicule his fedora insights while purchasing cereal with non-gold-backed currency, he’s actually running for congress. He organized an open carry walk in Mansfield, Texas earlier this year and cause quite a stir. Let’s face it, gun-toting dorks in shopping centers have a pretty bad track record, so you can’t blame anyone for being frightened when an army of failuremen took to the streets brandishing weapons.
The government won’t have to take away our guns as long as dweebs and dipshit “patriots” keep championing the second amendment: guns will eventually just go the way of Jncos and the calculator watch. But as of now, they are fashion statements, fads, forms of self expression, relics of silly men who still believe tyrants are dumb enough to employ thuggish tactics when they already have lobbyists, marketing, and a population so stupid they believe the definition of “freedom” is making the clerk at Walgreen’s emotionally process your assault rifle.
I thought the libertarian philosophy hinged on the absence of some oppressive authority injected into your life. It’s almost like walking around with a gun and forcing people to realize you could kill them is something libertarians would hate. There are so many things about Kory and his ilk I don’t understand. They think the US government is capable of systematically disarming its people yet so incompetent it can’t be trusted to even build a road. Ok, I’m starting to get it. When you want to feel intellectually superior, the government becomes a bunch of bumbling idiots, and when you want to feel like a freedom-fighting badass, the government becomes a cold, calculating adversary that demands your subjugation. It’s almost like the government takes the narrative of whatever emotional need is presently the most enjoyable to fill.
How He Can Redeem Himself: He disbands the Misfit Militia of Dipshit Boys and focuses on the good ideas he does have, like ending the drug war and putting a stop to our perpetual occupation of foreign lands. Kudos on those things, Kory. I hate to say it, but he’s probably better than 95% of Texas politicians.
For full blown lists of loathesome people who fly over the radar, check out our pals at Buffalo Beast.