I know a lot of you think that cleaning up the environment and going “green” is something only President Obama can achieve through savvy statesmanship resulting in non-binding agreements that will take effect (possibly) ten to twelve years from now. However, there are a lot of easy (and fun) things that you can do to reduce your environmental impact on the earth. Here are just a few!

- drink tap water instead of buying water in non-biogradable plastic bottles
- refrain from the use of aerosol as much as possible
- unplug the refrigerator each night before you go to bed
- recycle newspapers
- clip candles onto your christmas tree instead of electric lights
- ride your bike to work instead of using your automobile
- replace the nightlight in your child’s bedroom with a candle on the ground near his crib or bed
- eat raw food (like uncooked broccoli or chicken-sushi) instead of firing up the gas grill to cook them
- replace all lamps and other light fixtures with candles
- eat leftovers cold instead of reheating them
- ride your bike instead of driving your automobile when you go on your daily run to the store for candles

As we grow ever nearer to the first anniversary of the death of DJ AM, we all need to keep him in our hearts. Remembering him for the bright-eyed friend he was, the loving family member, and for his absolute refusal to learn to play a musical instrument.

1249 – Andrew of Longjumeau is dispatched by Louis IX of France as his ambassador to meet with Mongol Khagan of the Mongol Empire. The Mongolians are unexpectedly pleased with the meeting, noting that Longjumeau was “delicious.”

1868 – In New York City the Jolly Corks organization is renamed the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks in a terrible attempt at making their club name more catchy.

1899 – Knattspyrnufélag Reykjavíkur Iceland’s first football club is founded. Ten years later the team would change its name to the Jolly Corks in a very successful attempt at making it catchier.

1968 – In Haleyville, Alabama, the first 9-1-1 emergency telephone system goes into service. The lines would remain silent, however, as the farm animals constantly being raped by Haleyville good ol’ boys could not figure out how to dial it with their hooves.

1985 – Hezbollah is founded. Happy birthday, Hezbollah!

1999 – In Uzbekistan, what sounds like a bomb exploding and heavy gunfire is heard near the office of President Islom Karimov. Secret Service agents found the President in his private restroom completely unharmed (he explained to them that the noises were the result of his having eaten his wife’s goulash).

The Humane Society is gathering used fur coats from people and using it as bedding for orphaned animals under the theory that it helps remind the creatures of their mothers and fathers. Some have mocked the irony of this situation, but it’s hard to argue against the logic. After all, if you lost your parents you would have to admit that their memory would remain more vividly with you if you were then forced to wear a Snuggie made from their skin.

Top brass at the Pentagon have come out in support of repealing the infamous “don’t ask, don’t tell” rule. One admiral went as far as to say “gays should be allowed to serve in any branch the military at large and not just in the Navy.”

Unearthing information that smaller media institutions just can’t get to, respected news giant MSNBC has reported today on their front page that the situation in Haiti is “potentially volatile.”

Renowned buzz-kill Punxsutawney Phil came out of his little home the other day only to see his shadow. This proves that a) we’ve got a lot of winter left to live through, and b) sunlight still casts shadows when it shines down on stuff. It should be further noted that the little guy himself has had a long hard year, losing his mother only this past fall. Nonetheless he seemed in good enough spirits, as thanks to the Humane Society he was wearing her skin.

The group Lancet has retracted their famous study findings of 1998 that had asserted that autism is caused by vaccinations for measles, mumps and other diseases. With this explanation for autism now gone, society is forced once again to recognize it as a punishment from God.

1790 – In New York City, the Supreme Court of the United States attempts to convene for the first time; fails due to lack of guiding precedent.

1865 – President Abraham Lincoln signs the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution. The amendment officially abolished slavery and forced servitude outside of the institution of marriage.

1920 – The Royal Canadian Mounted Police begins operations / first gay joke about “mounties” is made.

1968 – Canada’s three military services, the Royal Canadian Navy, the Canadian Army and the Royal Canadian Air Force, are unified into the Canadian Forces. The world quakes in terror.

1978 – Director Roman Polanski skips bail and flees the United States to France after pleading guilty to charges of engaging in sex with a 13-year-old girl. Celebrities around the world immediately forgive him because they liked “Rosemary’s Baby.” Unfortunately he, too, liked Rosemary’s baby.

1982 – Senegal and the Gambia form a loose and completely pointless confederation known as Senegambia.

1985 – Maybell, Colorado reaches a record low of -61 degrees. Scientists finally discover the freezing point of pubic hair.

1998 –Lillian E. Fishburne became the first female African American to be promoted to rear admiral. Reports that it “didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would once we got going.”

2004 – 251 people are trampled to death and 244 injured in a stampede at the Hajj pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia. Allah says “oooh, SO close but you don’t get your virgins.”

1624 – Sir Thomas Warner founds the first British colony in the Caribbean on the island of Saint Kitts. The natives of St. Kitts are so overjoyed that most of them die.

1871 – Franco-Prussian War: the Siege of Paris ends in French defeat, an armistice, and hors d’oeuvres.

1887 – In a snowstorm at Fort Keogh, Montana, the world’s largest snowflakes are reported, 15 inches wide and 8 inches thick. Surviving witnesses described it as incredibly beautiful and absolutely deadly (over 200 lives lost).

1985 – Supergroup USA for Africa records the hit single We Are the World, to help raise funds for Ethiopian famine relief. It becomes the highest-grossing terrible song ever.

1986 – NASA send its giant firework “Challenger” up into the sky with spectacular results.

It was once thought that all of Gordon Ramsay’s business interests (restaurants, media, consultancy) are held in the company Gordon Ramsay Holdings Limited. Now it has been discovered that two additional interests of his (sharking and scatology) have been kept private.

Ramsay lived for a while at Stratford-Upon-Avon in England, former home of William Shakespeare. Fortunately for Ramsay, this means that his clam chowder isn’t the greatest tragedy to come out of the little hamlet (that honor goes to MacBeth).

Ramsay’s signature dish at his flagship restaurant is remarkably similar to comedian Jim Brewer. Both are half-baked, tasteless and topped with course brown hair.

Criticized for his hot temper, Gordon Ramsay has only offered the explanation that it was how he learned to manage under his mentors Marco Pierre White and Guy Savoy, both of whom were also cunts.

Ramsay’s legendary temper has actually fueled his stardom among spectacle-loving audiences. It has also fueled the decline of his children’s developing egos.

In 2005, Ramsay led a charity event called “Spice Up Your Life” whose goal was to raise 100,000 british pounds to combat AIDS cases in India. Happily, they met their financial goal, but on a bittersweet note it only allowed for the treatment of about half of his lovers there.

Ramsay had an embarrassing incident recently on Hell’s Kitchen. Used to taking others to task for kitchen cleanliness, Ramsay was told by health inspectors to remove 5 lbs of garbage that was stinking up his work area. It turned out, however, to be a misunderstanding as it was simply his attempt at baklava.

When Ramsay’s wife was asked how lucky she feels to have such a great cook for a husband, she noted that it doesn’t impact her much as he is “always cooking in someone else’s kitchen.” After a long pause she added that the same could be said regarding his famous sexual prowess.

It has been noted that perhaps Ramsay’s intense media schedule and desire for personal publicity is finally affecting the quality of food at his restaurants, as he is rarely able to be there in person. In fact, things are so far amiss that it was recently reported that his flagship restaurant actually served a bowl of gumbo that was entirely edible.

Recently, Ramsay’s flagship restaurant had a gas leak scare when patron’s reported an odd smell and resulting light-headedness. It was later discovered that the source of the gas was just another customer who had had made the bad call to go with Ramsay’s chilli.

Ramsay was confounded recently when he lost a cooking contest to an arch rival. The prize went to his rival’s rendition of Beef Wellington. Ramsay went off on the judging panel, yelling and screaming for almost an entire hour, causing the normally televised live event to cut to an extended commercial. Even after the commercial segment, Ramsay could be heard once more screaming that he’d never prepare his boiled weiners for them again.

Ramsay has been critiqued for his hot temper, but in all fairness to the great man, kitchens in first class restaurants can be very stressful and in the end he can’t be blamed for blowing off steam now and then. Much greater culpability, however, can be assigned to his blowing off of daughter Matilda’s most recent birthday party.

Ramsay has made frequent guest appearances on numerous television programs in the United States and in Europe. Less frequent have been his guest appearances in the lives of his four children.

Surprisingly, Ramsay has been able to stay in “shape” despite constantly being around rich food. Unsurprisingly, the exact “shape” is a “sack of shit.”

One early job at a fine dining establishment was cut short due to Ramsay’s relationship with the owner’s wife (the two were constantly out shopping together, gossiping and getting manicures).

Even Ramsay himself admits that he sometimes has a tendency to over-season foods and that a trip to Hell’s Kitchen most often is followed quickly by a trip to Hell’s Bathroom.

Despite being a master of complex dishes, Ramsay has said his favorite flavor in the world is a lightly seasoned beef. His second favorite flavor? The exciting zest of unrepentant infidelity.

Ramsay absolutely refuses to do stew in his kitchen, dismissing the notion as low-class. In response, his young assistant said “1) that’s not how you spell my first name, it’s Stu, and 2) it’s not like it’s any more classy when we do it in your office.”

After lack of coordination and a series of injuries rendered a career in sports impossible, Ramsay’s decision came down to the Royal Navy, the Police Force, or cooking food for people. He chose to cook due to his lack of courage and inability to command the respect of others.

So this was the drug lord they called La Muchacha. A dark figure moving swiftly through the dewy green of the jungle. Jack Grabber tried to follow as quietly as possible, but the man was like an animal in its natural habitat while Grabber had to inch slowly to keep from being detected. Suddenly a snap. Grabber knew it was a branch under his foot. Hard to miss them when you have size 16 steel toed army boots on. La Muchacha turned. Grabber could see his eyes (lashes curled, lined with eye-liner) hone in on him. La Muchacha fired something but it wasn’t a normal gun. A small grenade landed nearby, chemicals hissing from its top in Grabber’s direction. Tear gas seeped into his eyes, blinding him. That’s when instinct kicked in. It had to if he was going to survive. He remembered what his mentor had taught him. If you can’t see, then rely on muscle memory. He lowered his gun to his crotch like so many times that he had peed in the dark. And since he was 16 he’d never missed the toilet, his target. And he didn’t miss now. As the bullets issued rapidly from his crotch he could hear his prey drop like a dead deer. Or Quail. After was done firing he shook the gun twice to clear the smoke. Shaking it three times would have been playing with it.

A serial killer who, despite killing many and evading the law, is still not taken seriously by other serial killers because his method of killing is so lacking in imagination or personalized flourishes. Though he pretends not to let it bother him, this failure to gain the approval of his peers often leaves him in less than a good mood.

“That’s it. Keep the stock tight against your shoulder because this gun KICKS. Site your target. Now a lot of people say you should breathe in and then exhale gently while you pull the trigger, and maybe that’ll work for you, but not me.”

“What works for you?” asked the incongruously intense, yet still unchanged, pre-teen voice.

“Just yank away. It doesn’t matter. You’ve got the body and the muscle to hold it steady, that stock ain’t going anywhere.” And it was true, the kid had the body. Those Grabber genes. The little fuck was already nearing 6’0 and that was about 6 feet of young muscle and bone. Solid bone. Pretty much through the whole male side of the Grabber clan the bone was almost entirely hard with just the thinnest streak of marrow running through the very center. Just enough marrow to stay alive. Too much marrow for Jack Grabber. Too much marrow, also, for his little bastard of a son.

The child yanked the trigger repeatedly, putting his whole body into it each and every time, the muzzle jerking up and down, side to side, bullets unseen but nonetheless travelling through the muzzle flash, out into the world, and shattering their targets. They didn’t necessarily hit the targets where the little fucker had been aiming, but they hit alright. And those that didn’t hit something. And as Jack Grabber had said for years, “‘something is a target, too”. Some people could use such logic as a kind of fuzzy math to obscure their lackluster shooting skills. Grabber said it because he meant it. Completely. That creeped some people out. Grabber had saved the lives of just about eighty percent of those people.

The kid looked up from from the smoking barrel. Smoke was even leaking from the firing mechanism and out of just about every seam of the old Viet Cong sniper rifle. Sniper rifles aren’t meant for rapid fire. At all.
Ahead of them was the target area. They crossed the street and walked toward it. Most of the diners were still on the ground, covering their heads. Almost every wine-glass on the outdoor cafe table was shattered. The wall looked like it had been painted in a combination of light brown and duck confit. One child, a little older than Grabber’s, was crying.

Just as Jack was about to make a remark he was seized from behind and dragged back about 20 yards by an absolute monster of a human being. His arms were pinned. They weren’t pinned physically, of course, no one could accomplish that. They were pinned in the sense that he was letting them be held down because a gun was being held to his head. A very large gun. The kind of gun that when you pulled the trigger didn’t just spout out a flag that said “bang.”

Grabber looked at his son. Saw hesitation in his eyes, and fear. He was still an untested warrior. By the time he turned 13 that fear would be gone. There was fear but there wasn’t much. He just needed encouraging. “Take him out”, Grabber said, feeling the grip holding him get tighter. The kid raised the gun and sited but didn’t shoot.

“I can’t, dad, I’m not accurate enough to hit him with you in the way.” Which was true. He wasn’t. At all. Didn’t need to be. He could sense the figure (undoubtedly an old enemy) behind him beginning to feel that he had won. Could sense the man thinking, beginning to phrase together his demands.

“Son,” Grabber said with all the intensity he could muster, “who said I was going to get out of the way… TAKE HIM”, he roared.

The little asshole didn’t need time to think or process it, he UNDERSTOOD. Yanking the trigger four times he saw his father’s body convulse at four points. The man behind staggered more, beginning slowly to fall to the ground. The son yanked the trigger nine more times for good measure until with the last shot the barrel burst into flames and fell from the stock. He spiked the barrel into the ground and ran over to his father.
The kid offered Grabber a hand to pull him up. Grabber pretended he needed the assistance. 13 holes smoked in his chest and thighs. His son took a now burnt out half cigarette from one of the scattered cafe ashtrays and lit it off the smoking hole closest Grabber’s heart. Grabber looked, adrenaline pumping, at a priest who had been sitting nearby. The priest looked back at him, stunned by what he had just seen. “Now there’s a stigmata,” Grabber said. “THERE is a stigmata,” both Grabber’s said in unison.

They began walking to the local whorehouse. It wasn’t far away.