Toledo Tales

By Toledo Tales contributor Feckless Freddie

(Toledo, OH) Ohio governor Bob Taft signed a law today permitting the merger on July 1 of The University of Toledo and the Medical University of Ohio.

Taft, however, held off signing the document until he could get a concession.

"Hey man - you gotta have a new name, right? Why not call it 'Bob Taft University?'" he asked. "It's got a nice ring to it."

UT President Dr. Dan Johnson and MUO President Dr. Lloyd Jacobs laughed until they realized Taft was serious.

"Look - I have appointed almost every boob who sits here as a regent, and you losers owe me," said Taft. "Just agree to call it 'Taft University' and we can do business."

A mad scramble ensued, as Johnson and Jacobs grabbed the document. After sitting on Taft's back, twisting his arm, and making him scream "uncle," the two men forced the governor to sign the document. As the ceremony ended, Taft turned and yelled at the university presidents.

"People know we played golf!" he exclaimed. "Don't think that shit won't haunt you!" Mary Winkler

(Toledo, OH) The city of Toledo ended its use of firefighters for additional security patrols near schools after police announced that an alien abduction report from a Toledo teen was faked.

"Some of these reports are pretty convincing, especially the parts about the green skin, almond-sahped eyes, and electronic probes," said police chief Jack Smith. "However, when she said the aliens were playing Ne-Yo and the Ying Yang Twins on the mothership, we got a little suspicious."

Smith believes that the teenager was seeking attention.

"Maybe she has been watching too many X-file episodes and just wanted her mom to notice her," he said. "The problem is that future victims of alien abductions will now suffer, and the public might be skeptical the next time someone claims that operative from a planet circling Alpha Centauri lured them on a ship."

Mayor Carty Finkbeiner said that the extra patrols were justified.

"I would do that all over again," he said. "There is evey reason to be cautious when you are dealing with these creepy space freaks. You never know which ones are harmless and which ones will rip your head off and use your abdomen as a nest for their larvae." Charlie Sheen

(Toledo, OH) At a press conference Friday afternoon, city officials came together to combine their resources in order to catch suspected sex offenders.

"We're not going to tolerate the young people of our city feeling threatened when they go home from school in the afternoon," said Mayor Carty Finkbeiner. "We will hunt these sick freaks and impale them on iron stakes on the edge of town as a warning."

Local flasher Harry P. Ness, however, took issue with the Mayor's comments.

"Hey man, some of us are just about the quick peep show," Ness said, opening his trench coat to a carload of young women. "I don't hurt anybody, and I'm just trying to make a political statement."

Ness believes that the increased police presence in neighborhoods plagued by reports of suspicious trespassers was like turning Toledo "into an occupied zone."

"They oughtta be allocating resources to more important crimes, like the outrageous prices charged at Victoria's Secret," he said, wiggling his hips for passing motorists. "Do you know what a silk bustier is going for these days? I think not; I may have to go for the US Ranger look instead."

By Billy Pilgrim, Toledo Tales Rogue Editor

(Toledo, OH)—After two months of foreboding silence, Rachel Halloway, 16, and her parents are back to their old selves thanks to their award-winning backyard garden in Ottawa Hills.

Sources close to the Halloways say that Rachel’s dating and car privileges were mysteriously cut off in February of this year, and her interracial relationship with a varsity baseball player was all but squashed.

“We’re so glad to have everything back to normal now,” regarded Tina Halloway, Rachel’s mother, who works as a consultant at a local accounting firm. “Did you know it was spring? Everything blooms and buds this time of year. Everything except our daughter, of course—she’s still a virgin, and just lost about ten pounds.”

Rachel’s father Thomas shared his wife’s seasonal reinvigoration.

“I love the outdoors, especially the patch of earth behind our big oak,” beamed Mr. Halloway. “Sometimes late at night I go shovel the earth just for the fun of it, and think about Rachel going to an Ivy League school. And wearing size 4 jeans. No pudge on my girl, no sir.” Charlie Sheen

By Billy Pilgrim, Toledo Tales Rogue Editor

(Toledo, OH)—After another weekend of slammed doors and passive-aggressive huffiness, it is clear that Tom Constable, a Toledo-area weatherman, “totally doesn’t fucking care” about his fiercely independent daughter Ashley, 17, and according to one report, “would probably respond to her death with cold indifference.”

Constable, 53, is a native of Sylvania, and caught his first professional break at Bowling Green University, where he hosted his own radio show as an undergraduate. By the mid-1980s, he had a substantial reputation working as a meteorologist for several AM stations, and by all accounts, his potential seemed endless, with network television offers lingering on the horizon.

This all came to a screeching halt in 1988, when his wife gave birth to their only child, which subsequently destroyed Constable’s emotional range.

“Tom loved that little girl…at first,” remarked Lewis McCarthy, long-time neighbor and friend of the family. “But by the time she turned three, he had just given up. I mean, diapers take their toll on a man. That child ruined Tom’s ability to feel.”

This Sunday marked another two-day stand-off, in which Ashley argued endlessly with her mother about boys, birth control, and her 11:30 p.m. curfew, while Tom remained conspicuously aloof.

“Tom just sits there reading the goddamn paper,” lamented Mrs. Constable between quiet, repressed sobs. “A few months ago, I almost filed for divorced, but I can’t raise Ashley by myself. Some days I just drive past my house after work because I can’t deal with the pain. How is this my life?”

(Toledo, OH) From time to time Subcomandante Bob gets letters. OK, he gets a lot of letters from bill collectors and municipal courts, but we aren't talking about those kinds of letters. Those get stuffed into a drawer under the television set, and only get taken out when Bob needs something to light the grill with.

The letters we are talking about are those from readers. Bob, for an unexplained reason, seems to evoke in readers a belief that he has advice to offer, advice that only comes from hard living and associating with ne'er-do-wells.

That being said we bring to you a few letters from Bob's mailbag:

Dear Subcomandante Bob:

I have a secret crush on a woman who lives next door to me. Two problems - we're both married, and we're both women. Should I follow through on this, or keep it to myself?

Mary in Maumee

Dear Mary:

You should definitely follow through on this, and you should film the moment. Send me a copy too, while you're at it.

Dear Bob:

I am a very wealthy man who is afraid of doctors. I recently noticed this golfball-sized lump in my neck. What would you do if you were me?

Baxter in Toledo

Dear Baxter:

You sound like what you really need is a good friend, someone to do things for you in your time of need. And you know what? I could be that friend, that person to mix your martinis, fluff your pillow, and help you during your illness. That one person who stood by you, when everyone else turned their backs on you, in a very real and legally-binding sense.

Dear Bob:
I have been having disturbing dreams of late in which I attack loved ones with a machete. Is this a sign of mental illness? Should my family be concerned?

Kevin in Sylvania

Dear Kevin:

Those sound like perfectly normal dreams to me, and I don't think there's anything for your family to be worried about. You know, Kevin, you're a great guy, OK? No problems between us, right? We were always cool, if I remember correctly. You take care, buddy, and keep up the good work.

Left: Pastor Snot Bacon

(Sylvania, OH) Tapping into what it sees as "disaffected young Christians," Sylvania's new punk church Death Realm Christ Hole brings uncompromising political philosophy and an abrasive aesthetic to its audience.

"Punk music came and was a slap in the face for everybody to say, 'Hey! Let's just write a bunch of really great songs, go out there and kick them as hard as we can!"" said pastor Snot Bacon. "We are here to say that it's OK to say 'Fuck Off' in a church setting."

The traditional altar and pulpit are replaced at Death Realm Christ Hole with a stage and mosh pit. Bacon said that even older worshippers jump in the pit.

"There was an old lady here last week that totally decked this 16-year old Goth chick," he laughed. "Way cool; that's what her faith was all about, you know?"

Left: Moshing for Jesus

Featuring songs like "It's Getting Easier For Me To Die," "The Destruction Of Everything You Love," and "Mary's Rotten Afterbirth," the church hopes to use contemporary punk music in a faux club atmosphere to bring punks closer to God.

"Listen - there are like many ways to God, mon," said Bacon. "Who is to say that your lily-whitebread conformist sellout church has the monopoly on God? Besides, I'd rather be listening to Bad Brains than "On Eagles' Wings," you know?"

By Banfu T. Burnside, Toledo Tales contributing editor

(Toledo, OH) You won't find any nondescript polo shirts at the Huntsville Clothing Boutique. That's because owner Terry Phipps has dedicated his business to the acquisition, restoration, and retail of garb.

"I'm a purveyor of garb!" exclaimed Phipps, doffing a fireman's cap. "The outfits I sell here are all quite distinctive, not the kind of things you'd see around the office."

Phipps stocks his Main Street boutique with hundreds of themed ensembles, all easily identified with a particular occupation or time period. "Of course, who wouldn't want to go to work as a full-on Roman?" he asks, gesturing towards a rack of fig leaf headwear.

Though his shop is busiest in the weeks preceding Halloween, Phipps rejects any comparisons to a costume shop.

"This is garb, not some low-brow wig and mask operation," interjected the businessman at the first mention of the word costume.

Phipps contends that garb, unlike costume, commands a twelve-month market, with virtually no fluctuation in demand.

"Look at me, I'm Father McPhipps," he crowed while sporting a priestly cassock, complete with clerical collar. "And I do this at least once a month."

The boutique's collection is quite diverse, and includes mime-garb, Jedi-garb, and a majestic Indian headdress. There is one notable omission from the collection.

"I don't do S&M," stated Phipps solemnly. "I carry no pleather and no whips, and I'm very careful not to include chaps with the biker-garb."

To Phipps, the S&M crowd is one clientele he'd prefer not to court.

"Nipple clamps are what I like to call garb-age," he said. Paris Hilton

(Toledo, OH) Subcomandante Bob usually does not reprint funny things sent to him by readers, since he prefers to run original material or, at least, cleverly-disguised stolen material.

However, since Bob spent the last 48 hours celebrating everything remotely connected to St. Patrick's Day (including several toasts to a streetlight that turned on and off every thirty seconds), he is going to reprint this amusing Top Ten list sent by a dedicated reader in Traverse City, MI.

A shillelagh, by the way, is an Irish fighting stick used for smacking the bejeesus out of an adversary.

She aked that her name not be used on account of the fact that Bob has been forever banned from the town due to an unfortunate incident involving a fifth of Stolichnaya, a front-loading earth mover, and the town square, but Bob digresses.

Here then is the promised "Top Ten Questions To Ask Yourself Before Buying A Shillelagh":

10. "Do I need another Shillelagh?"

9. "Should I pay the extra ten dollars and get the Mach 3 Shillelagh?"

8. "In case I need assistance, is there a Shillelagh customer service hotline?"

7. "Used Shillelagh: Unsanitary?"

6. "What does the size of my Shillelagh say about me?"

5. "Where does John Kerry stand on Shillelaghs?"

4. "Should I hold off until the 2006 Shillelaghs arrive?"

3. "Should I just go to the yard and get a stick?"

2. "Will I get a discount if my name is Shelly?"

1. "Am I comfortable being known as 'That jackass with the Shillelagh'?" Paris Hilton

By Billy Pilgrim, Toledo Tales Rogue Editor
(Toledo, OH)—Francis McGuire celebrated the one year anniversary of his bitter divorce from his “evil succubus” wife Tracy by purchasing her the perfect gift: a tampon dispenser.

According to sources close to the couple, McGuire bought the item from a BP gas station on Bancroft St. for $37, where the former lovers first consummated their relationship after a UT homecoming game in 1992.

“I hate that bitch,” steamed McGuire in an exclusive interview with Toledo Tales. “I hope she comes home with that new guy Stan and sees this hunk of metal on her front porch. But, hey—I’m the asshole, right? I should have known that ‘to love and to cherish’ meant blowing my nephew Brian in the garage.”

And while McGuire’s closest compatriots have been very supportive throughout his emotional crisis, not all of them approve of this latest gesture.

“I think he needs therapy,” revealed his best friend Ian Jacobson. “We went to the batting cages last weekend, and I found him sobbing in the crapper—the women’s crapper. I’m no genius, but it don’t get any more Freudian than that, dude.”

(Toledo, OH) A local canine interviewed by Toledo Tales is angry at what he considers to be inferior treats.

Hopper, a black-and-white dog of multiple ancestries, decried the purported decline in biscuit quality.

"So, I protect your house, chase away cats, and bark at the mailman, but all you give me is this chalky-tasting piece of crap?" he asked, eyeing the proffered Milkbone. "Come on; don't I deserve better than that?"

Hopper said that he recalled days in which steak scraps were the norm.

"Yeah, you used to hook me up good," he said, shifting his weight back and forth between front and back legs. "And you wouldn't make me do stupid stuff to get it."

The arrival of the new baby, according to Hopper, seems to have been the point in which treat quality began to nosedive.

"Sure. It's 'Megan did this' and 'Megan did that' and 'Megan, don't bite Hopper's ear' all frigging day long," he said, tail thumping on the floor. "The baby farts and the house goes nuts, but I, your faithful friend for well nigh seven years, get fed tasteless, preformed bone meal."

Hopper hopes that the situation improves, and says he is weighing his options.

"Have you ever eaten one of these?" he asked in between bites. "Until you have walked a mile on my paws, you really don't know me."

(Toledo, OH) Local bowling afficianado Nathan "Nappy" Jazubowski said that a recent gathering of he and "some buds" turned into a spiritual moment, as a print of the late Pope John Paul II may have performed a miracle.

"It was something from beyond the grave," intoned Jazubowski. "I swear to God those same three joints stayed on the table all night, no matter how much we blazed up. It had to be the Pope."

Jazubowski said that he stuffed the Philly blunts about 7:00 PM, but the pot was still there at 4:00 AM when he bid adieu to his guests.

"It's like the loaves and fishes, except with dope," he said. "There is no way that my bogarting, weed-stealing homies could not have smoked everything up, since they even go out of their way to pick bud shake out of the carpet."

Left: Righteous picture of Pope John Paul II that performed a miracle

Jazubowski said that he got the small print at a garage sale in North Toledo.

"I stopped in at this old lady's sale hoping I could find a decent pair of used bowling shoes," he said. "Then I saw the Pope staring at me. At first I thought I was just tripping, but now I think that God was directing me to the picture."

The miracle has renewed Jazubowski's interest in attending Mass more regularly.

"True dat, mon," he said. "You can bet I'll be at 4:00 Mass on Saturday. If the Pope can pull off shit like this, imagine what he might do if I went to church once in a while?"

Left: Carpenters boarding up the Blade Building

By: Toledo Tales contributing editor Feckless Freddie

(Toledo, OH) Threats of a strike by union workers at the Toledo Blade led the management of the parent company to get the Blade building ready for a strike.

"We've moved most of the staff out of the building, and we're starting to board up the place now," said Allan Block, president of Block Communications. "Those strikers are in for a surprise if they want to start some trouble."

Block said that the primary goal in case of a strike is simple.

"We want to starve the fuckers out and break the unions," he said. "It's a pretty easy strategy to figure out. If we have to we will bing in some goons and bust a few skulls. Don't think we won't do it, either."

A representative for Mailers Union Local 1135 declined comment, except to say that "wood burns."

KrazyKat at Toledo Speaks Out tagged Subcomandante Bob, and here are his responses to this vile invasion of privacy:

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4.
We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable. AA Big Book - they keep trying to get me to read it, but so far it's just a big blue coaster.
2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, what do you find?
Empty vodka bottle.
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Infomercials, I think (it was very late).
4. Without looking, guess what time it is.
6:00 AM
5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
11:06 AM
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The sounds of people who have no mercy for the hung over.
7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Waking up on the front lawn.
8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
The evil sun shining through the windows of the Cherry Street Mission.
9. What are you wearing?
The same clothes I passed out in.
10. Did you dream last night?
There were giant arthropods gnawing on my legs, and I couldn't make them stop.
11. When did you last laugh?
1994.
12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Vomit stains and graffiti
13. Seen anything weird lately?
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.
14. What do you think of this quiz?
My head hurts.
15. What is the last film you saw?
Leaving Las Vegas.
16. If you turned into a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
A big honking boat to moor in the Maumee, stocked with the world's finest liquors.
17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
Subcomandante Bob is a member of the Illuminati.
18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?
Elimination of public intoxication laws.
19. Do you like to Dance?
Tango and rhumba, baby.
20. George Bush.
Party-freaking-animal. Hands down.
21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Hey man - you ain't pinning kids on me.
22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
Listen - how many times do I have to tell you?
23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
They prefer to be called "women," not broads. I enjoy them, but would not want to become a woman.
24. What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
"Hey Bob - shaken, slightly stirred, with a blue cheese-stuffed olive, OK buddy?"
25. 4 people who must also do this theme in their journal. Mahatma Gandhi, Paris Hilton, Harry Whittington, Corey Haim.

(Toledo, OH) Based on the success of the bestselling A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, enigmatic e-zine editor Subcomandante Bob figured the market was ready for another tell-all tale of debauchery, debasement, and doltishness.

Entitled One Hundred Steaming Chunks, the book captures the essence of the zeitgeist that is the world of Subcomandante Bob, according to the author.

"I really nail myself," said Bob, autographing copies in expectation that people will soon buy the book. "I finally figure out the real me by chapter two, and then the book soars."

Subcomandante Bob, editor of the e-zines Codependent Collegian, Toledo Tales, and National Nitwit, was pleased at initial sales of One Hundred Steaming Chunks.

"I have sold copies to my caseworker, NA sponsor, and a couple of people I hustled outside the homeless shelter," he said, stubbing out a Marlboro. "My publisher - who is a dude named Mookie over here at Cherry Street Mission - is very pleased, and thinks we may be able to get a movie deal."

Like Frey, Bob has led a life dedicated to self-destruction. Unlike Frey, though, Bob believes he has no problems with authenticity.

"Every night spent face down on the front lawn is there," he said. "I pretty much capture every speed-fueled frenzy, every endless hangover, and every wasted opportunity. Also, I have had a remarkable ability to manage to avoid arrests in twenty years of hard drinking, so there's no chase scenes or any of that."

One Hundred Steaming Chunks also lacks the inspirational messages of A Million Little Pieces .

"Yeah, it's pretty much just 200 pages of idiocy," admitted Bob. "Still, if cable shows like "Viva La Bam" can manage to stay on the air, there must be a market for this kind of pointless crap."

(Toledo, OH) Lucas Freedman, who works at Toledo rock station WIOT, believes that he finally has his chance to shine.

Freedman, whose job as a production assistant includes everything from "stuffing envelopes to taking out the trash," will be doing live on-air segments for WIOT.

"I'll be doing those bits during the 'Bob and Tom Show' where the local stations give their ID," he said. "From there it's just a small step to my own show."

The Bob & Tom Show is a nationally-syndicated radio program created by Bob Kevoian and Tom Griswold at station WFBQ in Indianapolis in 1983. The program is among the highest rated syndicated programs on American radio, and features comedy and parody.

Freedman paused as Kevoian said: "We'll be right back with the Bob & Tom Show."

"Shit - that's my cue!" said Freedman. "Ahem...'on 104.7 WIOT Toledo.'"

The WIOT employee beamed for Toledo Tales reporters.

"Not bad, eh?" he asked. "This is the third day this week I've done this gig, and I really think I am coming into my own now."

After a brief discussion of the differences between taped and digital commercials, Freedman stopped again, with a seemingly innate sense of anticipating the end of a commercial break.

"And now, back to the Bob & Tom Show," he said into the microphone. "Phew! This job requires some serious concentration."

Freedman said that he will be "hitting up station management" for an increase in pay due to his new responsibilities.

"You have to strike while the iron is hot," he said. "If they want to keep a rising star, these execs have gotta shell out a few more Benjamins, if you know what I mean."

Left: Artist's rendition of the horror

(Toledo, OH) A night out to dinner for a Toledo couple went terribly wrong last Saturday.

While eating at an unnamed local restaurant, Regina Pratt felt something odd inside her mouth.

"I reached in and pulled out this curly hair," she said, removing the strand from a Ziploc bag. "It was dark, sinewy, and I thought I was going to chuck right then and there."

According to Pratt, there are only two possibilities of the hair's origin.

"I began to pray that there was a black cook working, but every employee in the place was white," she shuddered. "My stomach dropped; the only remaining explanation was too disgusting to even think about."

Left: Learning to cope and begin again

Pratt said that she is weighing her options.

"Part of me wants to sue the pants off that restaurant," she said. "But then again, maybe I don't want to know who the hair belongs to."

Pratt's husband Mark said that the event has "definitely strained" the couple's marriage.

"I find it difficult to kiss my wife now," he admitted. "It's kind of like an accidental infidelity. Guys have a tough time going where another man has been, you know what I mean? I love Gina, but at the same time I want to puke when I think about sticking my tongue in her mouth."

A semi-regular feature at Toledo Tales

Pisces (Feb 19 – Mar 20)-You will meet a mysterious stranger in an elevator. Then you will belch, and the moment will be forever gone.

Aries (Mar 21-Apr 19)-The assistant manager of the Stop-n-Rob where you work makes a pass at you, but you don’t find acne rosea very attractive.

Taurus (Apr 20-May 20)-While eating Captain Crunch Crunch Berries ®, you taste something salty. You realize that you are chewing on human flesh. Why it would be in your cereal bowl is anyone’s guess.

Gemini (May 21-Jun 20)- As you sit in your efficiency apartment plotting world domination, you realize that you need at least a BA to get hired by the United Nations. You boldly register for that 1000 level Psych course that has been your undoing twice in the past.

Cancer (Jun 21-Jul 22)-The astrological sign says it all, pal. Go out and live; you’ve only got a couple of months left.

Leo (Jul 23- Aug 22) - You rifle through the medicine cabinet at a party and find an anti-viral shingles medication. ‘What the hell,’ you think, and wash a few down with some beer.

Virgo (Aug 23-Sep 22) – You realize that you have on one beige and one black sock. You play it off smooth, arguing that this is all the rage in Poughkeepsie. No one is buying it, though.

Libra (Sept 23–Oct 22) – On the way to class, you see a sign that says “Stop.” ‘No way,’ you smile. ‘The man is not telling this cat how to live!’

Scorpio (Oct 23–Nov 21) -You re-label your all your Crayons to be politically correct. ‘Yellow’ becomes ‘Asian,’ and ‘Red’ becomes ‘Fucking Communist.’ Hey, we won the Cold War, right? USA! USA!

Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21) While surfing for online porno at the library, you realize that some nine-year olds are looking over your shoulder. You tell them to beat it, and then smirk at the witty double entendre you have just created.

Capricorn (Dec 22–Jan 19) – You get on a crowded bus with a Tupperware container labeled ‘body parts.’ You hope someone will say: ‘Are those really body parts?’ whereupon you plan to chuckle and show them it’s only goulash. No one takes the bait, though.

Aquarius (Jan 20–Feb 18) – You decide to volunteer at the homeless shelter downtown. ‘Just a volunteer,’ you cheerily say to the guy at the door. ‘No cot for me!’ you say to no one in particular. You spend the morning helping a man named Mookie fill out car wash applications, and feel good about yourself. Yes sir, this is truly a land of opportunity. brrreeeport krugle

(Toledo, OH) After procuring an M-113 armored personnel carrier, Toledo Police are hoping to add to their heavy crime-fighting equipment list.

"An armored personnel carrier is one thing, but tanks would really kick some ass," said Toledo Police Chief Jack Smith. "Can you imagine the look on the faces of some drug-dealing gangbangers if we rolled up with a couple of M1 Abrams main battle tanks?"

Smith said that the use of military vehicles should reassure neighborhood residents.

"If we use these tanks once in the next five years and save one life, it's worth the cost for us," he said. "Plus, what hoodlums are going to want to hang around if they have to stare down a 120mm smooth bore cannon? Answer: none."

Also on the shopping list: an E-3 Sentry AWACS aircraft.

"Listen - there is nothing better to protect the citizens of Toledo than a radar-based electronic system designed to carry out airborne surveillance," he said. "When you add the C2BM functions for both tactical and air defence forces, we will be locked and loaded to take down every purse-snatcher, rapist, and drug dealer in the city."

(Toledo, OH) "Learning to love yourself - is the greatest love of all."

So sang Janice Rosenbaum last Friday at Mug Shots on Summit Street, voice cracking at the highest notes sung by Whitney Houston.

A long-time patron at the bar, however, failed to share Rosenbaum's enthusiasm for the song, originally written by George Benson.

"If I said to most of the people who sang karaoke, 'Good job, awesome, well done,' it would have made me actually look and feel ridiculous," said Brad Perryman of Sylvania. "It's quite obvious most of the people - especially this chick - who turned up tonight are hopeless."

Perryman said that there were historic parallels for the performance.

"If she would be singing like this two thousand years ago, people would have stoned her," he said. "The end of the animal trade would leave more time to trap or beat to death pop star wannabes like this horrid creature."

Perryman, who admits to having "difficulty maintaining a relationship," said that Rosenbaum's performance was among the worst he has ever seen at Mug Shot's.

"My advice would be if you want to pursue a career in the music business, don't," he said to a crying Rosenbaum. "You have to have a talent to progress it. I don't believe Janice has a singing talent. She's completely wasting our time."

Bar manager Jason Stanford agreed.

"Look - I'm sorry she got shouted down, but she's going to kill our business," he said. "When someone is that bad, or sings such a hackneyed song, they are not funny. They just suck."

(Toledo, OH) Martin Hollander says he is not one to be taken in by quackery, but an Aquafina bottle in his possession might just be more than a chunk of molded plastic.

"Ever since I bought this bottle of Aquafina at Seven-11, my life has changed," he said, displaying the bottle with the purported magical powers. "For instance, 5 minutes after I bought it, I made every light on the way to work."

Hollander said that the good fortune continued throughout that first week.

"I got a call from a guy who said he could fix my leaky roof for a good price," he said. "Then I saw this ad for a closet organizer that really spruced up my bedroom. I owe it all to this Aquafina bottle."

Hollander added that he has taken to refilling the bottle ever time he needs good luck, and puts the refilled bottle in the refrigerator to get the water "Seven-11 cold."

"I can't wait to have it next to me the next time I buy some lottery scratch-offs," he said. "I just know I am going to win some money if I can position it near the tickets."

(Toledo, OH) The Toledo-Area Regional Transportation Authority (TARTA), facing dwindling ridership and high fuel costs, announced that it will begin offering rickshaw service throughout the city of Toledo.

"We figured this service would be a great way to kill two birds with one big stone," said James Gee, the transit authority’s general manager. "We can hire illegal immigrants to operate the rickshaws, and we save money on fuel costs."

Gee says the agency is committed to moving America toward energy independence by replacing imported petroleum with renewable energy such as sweaty immigrants.

"Hey, those scrawny little immigrants work their asses off," he laughed. "I had a Vietnamese kid run me from downtown to Franklin Park the other day up Monroe Street. You should have seen that sucker huffing - it was worth the buck I tipped him just for the chuckle."

Gee downplayed concerns that the rickshaw service exploits immigrants.

"Hey man - they don't have to take the job," he said. "We can always call the INS and let them deal with these people. Besides, who else is going to pull one of these things? Not me, that's for sure."

Among the benefits of the new rickshaw program, said Gee, are the low maintenance costs.

"You grease the wheel bearings and give Pedro new flip-flops, and you are good to go," he said. "These machines are built to last, and when a driver braks a leg or something, you stick another body in there. We should have done this years ago."

(Toledo, OH) Angered by the policies of restaurants such as McDonald’s that provide play areas, local children organized a protest against what they call “really stupid rules.”

One of the movement’s leaders is 9-year old Stephen Harnett of Sylvania.

“I was at McDonald’s last week, and this manager made me get off the slide because I was barefoot,” he said. “I mean, come on. I took a bath last Friday. He’s the one who stinks!”

Several of the other protestors agreed with Harnett’s assessment, and offered passersby an opportunity to verify that their shoes and feet were odor-free.

“Yeah, that guy smells like rotten cheese,” said Tommy Miller, 8. “When he told me to leave, I said: ‘Trick or treat, smell my feet, if you die, you’ll know why!”

Contacted by Toledo Tales, McDonald’s representative Karen Hastings said that the rules are in place “to protect the health and safety of our patrons.”

Harnett said that the corporate concerns were misplaced.

“If they want to protect the safety of their patrons, then they should stop serving nasty worm burgers,” he said. “And they should stop wiping their butts on the buns.”

Miller added: “Yeah, and they should stop picking their noses and wiping the boogers on the Chicken Nuggets.”

(Toledo, OH) A wet T-shirt contest evolved into a topless contest during a Mardi Gras celebration at a Toledo music bar Tuesday, and bar patrons and neighbors expressed anger to Toledo Tales reporters.

During the onstage promotion at Bootleggers a dozen women competing for a $100 prize stepped in into a plastic pool to have water poured over their white T-shirts. Most of the women removed their shirts, while others removed all of their clothing.

"It was one thing when the girls stripped, but then a bunch of guys started going topless," said Mandy Jamieson of Sylvania. "Some things just shouldn't be seen, you know?"

Among the chief complaints was the presence of many pairs of "man-boobs," according to a witness.



"Some of the fat dudes had bigger hooters than than the 38-DD winning woman," said Jacob Nelson of Toledo. "Waves of nausea instantaneously passed over me, and I hurled all over the floor."

Bar manager John Kwiatkowski said that he didn't see any man-boobs during the promotion.

"If I saw that, I would have stopped that immediately," he said. "That's just wrong. Guys with man-boobs need to keep that shit covered up, OK? We don't run that kind of establishment."

The city of Toledo has filed a injunction to get a hearing on a zoning complaint against the club. Acting city law director John Madigan said the complaint focuses on community decency standards.

"Ugly man-boobs are an affront to all decent Toledoans, and the city is prepared to do everything within its power to protect the citizenry," he said. "We will also enforce these standards atr local beaches. Do you really want your children to have to look at the hairy man-boobs of the fat guy on the blanket next to you? I think not."

(Toledo, OH) From time to time Subcomandante Bob gets letters. OK, he gets a lot of letters from bill collectors and municipal courts, but we aren't talking about those kinds of letters. Those get stuffed into a drawer under the television set, and only get taken out when Bob needs something to light the grill with.

The letters we are talking about are those from readers. Bob, for an unexplained reason, seems to evoke in readers a belief that he has advice to offer, advice that only comes from hard living and associating with ne'er-do-wells.

That being said we bring to you a few letters from Bob's mailbag:

Dear Subcomandante Bob:

I have a neighbor whose dog yaps all day and night. I was originally going to shoot it with my .22, but a friend told me that pouring antifreeze in his water bowl is a better way to go. That way there are no ballistics tests to haunt me. What do you think?

Jason in Sylvania

Dear Jason:

Besides the fact that you are a sick son-of-a-bitch, you are also pretty stupid. If you can't learn to live with one of God's beautiful creatures, I suggest that you off yourself. Get a good hemp rope, tie it to a beam in your garage, fashion a noose, and hang yourself. Jeez, everyone knows that the best way to shut up a barking dog is to beat it with a broomstick. Dork.


Dear Bob:

I stupidly left an incriminating message on someone's voicemail, and now I am in a lot of hot water. I face a court case over this, and I need to do something. Anything. Got any ideas?

East Side B

Dear B:

When they play that message in court, they will use some sort of sensitive electronic equipment. My advice is to bring as many magnets with you to court on the day of the trial and try to get as close as you can to the playback device. With any luck, you will screw up the tape or disc. If nothing else, you will wreak havoc on the courtroom hardware and maybe get yourself a mistrial.


Dear Bob:

Is it true that you were once in the Special Forces? I have a bet riding on this.

Jimmy in Toledo

Dear Jimmy:

Nope, never been in the Special Forces. I did try out for the Justice League, but they were unimpressed with my credentials, which consisted largely of being able to drink a pint of vodka in 11 seconds. Hope you bet against me.

(Toledo, OH) Embattled Toledo council reopresentative Bob McCloskey appeared in court Tuesday on bribery charges. A Toledo Tales reporter caught a snippet of conversation between an angry McCloskey and some associates about a political enemy.

"I want this guy dead! I want his family dead!" he shouted. "I want his house burned to the ground! I want to go there in the middle of the night and piss on his ashes!"

Turning to reporters, McCloskey addressed the gathered media outside the courthouse.

"This American system of ours," he told an interviewer, "call it Americanism, call it capitalism, call it what you like, it gives to each and every one of us a great opportunity if we only seize it with both hands and make the most of it."

Calmed by his attorney, McCloskey entered the courtroom.

"Somebody messes with me, I'm gonna mess with him," he grumbled.

At one point there appeared to be a problem with the original jury selected for McCloskey's trial.

"Bailiff, I want you to go next door to Judge Hawton's court, where they've just begun hearing a divorce action," said the judge. "I want you to bring that jury in here, and take this jury to his court. Bailiff, are those instructions clear?"

"Yes, sir, they're... clear," replied the puzzled bailiff.

McCloskey, visibly agitated, turned to his attorney.

"What's he talking about?" he demanded. "What is it?"

The judge restored order, and turned again to the bailiff.

"Bailiff, I want you to switch the juries," he reiterated.

McCloskey pleaded not guilty and was released on personal recognizance. Outside the courthouse, he turned to his associates again.

"Now, l have done nothing to hurt these people, but they're angered at me," he said.
"So what do they do? Doctor up some bribery, for which they got no case, to annoy me. To speak to me like men? No. To harass a peaceful man."

Looking up to the heavens, McCloskey continued.

"I pray to God that if l ever have a grievance, I would have just a little more self respect," he said. "l'll tell you one more thing. In an all-out prize fight, when one guy's left standing, that's how you know who won."