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Everyone is looking for answers in the Boston Bombers' Chechen ethnicity.


Amanda Palmer's "A Poem for Dzhokhar" Is the Worst Poem of All Time

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This weekend, as law-enforcement officers across the country devoted their resources to the manhunt and capture of the dangerous criminal Reese Witherspoon, an actual crime against humanity was being ignored: Musician Amanda Palmer was writing the worst poem ever composed in the English language, "A Poem for Dzhokhar."

This is how the poem starts (WARNING: If you visit her site on your phone, you will be asked to download "The Amanda Palmer App," which may induce internal bleeding and permanent blindness.):

you don’t know how it felt to be in the womb but it must have been at least a little warmer than this.

you don’t know how intimately they’re recording your every move on closed-circuit cameras until you see your face reflected back at you through through the pulp.

you don’t know how to stop picking at your fingers.

you don’t know how little you’ve been paying attention until you look down at your legs again.

you don’t know how many times you can say you’re coming until they just stop believing you.

you don’t know how orgasmic the act of taking in a lungful of oxygen is until they hold your head under the water.

This is bad. It's bad writing, it's bad timing, it's bad ideas; it's inane and self-serving, and adds nothing to our understanding of the marathon bombing, or of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, or of terrorism. Well: it adds a new way to make jokes.

And also the poem adds Palmer, elbowing her way in to the conversation, insisting on her right to speak for a teenager she never met and to whose thoughts and feelings she has no access, demanding that we recognize her bravery for doing so, and then later telling us all that it's our fault we misunderstood:

Just in case: I did. It still sucked. But Palmer's not wrong! It is about more than just what we think it is. It's not just about a basic inability to craft a compelling image, it's also about Palmer's own egotism. "A Poem for Dzhokhar" is not, really, "for" Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the 19-year-old college kid who, along with his older brother, allegedly detonated a bomb at the Boston Marathon last week. It's for Palmer, a deluded and opportunistic narcissist who sells rhetorical snake oil to people too full of unearned self-regard to join an actual cult. It's another way she can make sure people are looking at her, and we shouldn't even write about it—if we write about it, she wins—except that in this case she has actually created something remarkable: a world-historically horrific poem.

Harpoon Pierces Man's Skull in Cleaning Accident, Doesn't Damage Brain

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Despite accidentally shooting himself in the face with a speargun last week, Bruno Barcellos de Souza Coutinho of Brazil will somehow manage to leave the hospital with his brain intact.

The 34-year-old fisherman was reportedly cleaning his fishing gear when the weapon discharged, causing a spear to enter his skull through the left eye socket.

Amazingly, de Souza Coutinho remained conscious, and even refused to seek medical care, forcing his aunt to phone the fire department.

Doctors at Santa Teresa Hospital say the harpoon had penetrated nearly 6 inches into his skull, but somehow missed vital arteries by mere millimeters.

They also noted that de Souza Coutinho appeared to have sustained a negligible amount of brain damage.

He did, however, lose all vision out of his left eye, but doctors were able to save the eyeball.

If his conditions continues to improve, de Souza Coutinho could be released as early as later this week.

[H/T: Arbroath, photos via Santa Teresa Hospital]

Gunman Sought After Shootout at Nuclear Power Plant in Tennessee

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Police are looking for a suspect who used a boat to access a Tennessee Valley Authority nuclear power plant Sunday morning and exchanged fire with a security guard on the plant grounds before fleeing downriver.

The shootout occurred "several hundred yards from the site’s protected area, which houses the reactor and power production facilities," TVA spokesman Jim Hopson said in a press release.

A security guard on routine rounds reportedly spotted the suspect leaving his boat and walking ashore about 2 a.m. When the guard advanced to question the suspect, the lone man began shooting. The guard returned fire and called for backup. The suspect then "sped away on his boat," according to a local news report.

Authorities labeled the shootout an "unusual event," the Nuclear Regulatory Commission's lowest emergency classification.

Opened in 1996, Watts Bar is in southeastern Tennessee between Chattanooga and Knoxville. Nearly 1.2 million people live within a 50-mile radius of the plant, and population growth since 2000 has been rapid.

There was never any immediate danger to the plant's reactor, and it's not clear how much damage a lone gunner could actually do to a complex like Watts Bar. Coincidentally, federal authorities just ran their first-ever nuclear terrorism drill last Tuesday at Three Mile Island in Pennsylvania. In that simulation, a team of eight gunmen attempted to take over the plant; government spokesmen would only say publicly that that the plant's response was "adequate."

[WBIR; Image via AP]

Christina Amphlett of the Divinyls, best known for the quintessentially '90s hit "I Touch Myself," i

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Christina Amphlett of the Divinyls, best known for the quintessentially '90s hit "I Touch Myself," is dead at 53. She had multiple sclerosis and breast cancer.

'Grown-Ass Man' Builds Olive Garden Menu Fort to Hide from Girlfriend

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Adam Howell was at an Olive Garden in Charlotte last night when he overheard a couple at a nearby table quarreling

Looking over, he couldn't help but admire how the disagreement was ultimately resolved.

"A grown ass man is mad at his girlfriend at Olive Garden & has made a menu fort," Howell tweeted.

Hundreds agreed, making his photo go viral.

Howell soon provided some follow-up, noting that the waitress eventually put the kibosh on the seemingly foolproof stratagem by taking the man's menus away.

"Once she took the menus, phones were out for the rest of the meal," Howell added.

He went on to acknowledge that the couple did exchange a few words towards the end of their meal, and that the man ultimately paid.

When some started to comment on the subject of the photo being a "fool," one tweep chimed in and asked, rhetorically, who the bigger fool was: "the fool or the other fool who’s also eating at Olive Garden taking pictures of fools?"

To which Howell replied, "My 6-year old likes their spaghetti, go easy on her ;)"

[H/T: Uproxx, photo via Twitter]

Bloomberg Wants to Raise the Smoking Age to 21

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Fresh off the heels of his victory against carbonated-sugar-water terror, New York Mayor Mike Bloomberg is poised to intensify his war on cancer sticks.

The mayor and City Council Speaker Christine Quinn—a leading candidate to succeed Bloomberg—are expected to announce today that they'll seek a raise in the city's cigarette-buying age, to 21 from 18.

Few people are likely to oppose a new limit on young adults' access to carcinogenic cylinders of kitty-litter, but the measure is just the latest in a series of moves to effectively ban smoking in the city:

  • 2002: Smoking in bars and restaurants gets nixed.
  • March 2013: Bloomberg proposes new rules that would raise the minimum price of a pack of smokes to $10.50 and require stores to keep them out of sight.

In short, New York's march to tyranny continues apace. But at least everybody will march a lot easier with clean lungs. [WSJ; Image via BigStockPhoto]

'Fucking Shit' News Anchor Fired After First Day on Job

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AJ Clemente, a rookie news anchor from Bismarck, North Dakota, who has already made a name for himself by having the worst first day on the job ever, was officially fired a short while ago.

Clemente made his own headlines over the weekend after uttering the words "fucking shit" one second into his first telecast.

According to a statement released by KFYR-TV following the incident, Clemente was practicing his teasers and "did not realize his microphone was on."

The statement goes on to say that this was "no excuse" for his language as reporters are trained "to always assume that any microphone is live at any time."

Clemente was subsequently suspended pending review of his fuck-up.

It seems now that the station was unable to forgive Clemente his "rookie mistake," as he just informed his Twitter followers that he's been let go.

"I'm a free agent.Cant help but laugh at myself and stay positive," he added. "Wish i didnt trip over my "Freaking Shoes" out of the gate."

The one silver lining in all of this is that Clemente did not, as was widely reported, disparage gay people on his way out the door.

"I just want to say that I did not say the word gay," he tweeted earlier today. "I was trying to pronounce the London Marathon winners name Tsegaye Kebede."


Senator Lindsey Graham says the FBI was unaware dead Boston bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev travel

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Senator Lindsey Graham says the FBI was unaware dead Boston bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev traveled to Russia for six months in 2011 because of a mistake spelling his name.

That transcendental meditation is already paying off! Rupert Murdoch has begun putting his phone-hac

Paul Kevin Curtis, the Prince superfan arrested last week on suspicion of sending ricin-tainted lett

Did you know that Maj.

This Is What Happens When You Put Ecstasy in Your Vagina

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Eight intrepid women once gathered together for a slumber party during which they gabbed about their moon signs, ate chocolate, and shoved a ton of hallucinogenic drugs up their vaginas. They summarized their experiences in a report called "Cunt Odyssey: Search for Vaginal Datapoints." Read on if you've ever wondered what would happen if you dosed your ladyflower.

This "Cunt Odyssey" essay — found on Erowid, that online drug library your freshman year burner dormmate consulted more often than Wikipedia — is from 2003. All we know about these magical adventurers is that they ranged in age from 24-42, knew each other fairly well before vag-tripping together, and a few had previously thrown sleepover parties that involved "making a comfy nest in the living room, chatting a bit, sharing information about what psychoactives we’ve brought to share, and then deciding what to take based on what’s available and what we’re feeling like."

The "Cunt Odyssey" was supposed to be LSD-themed, but as the night unfolded some women also took 2C-B, ketamine, and MDMA in veggie capsules. One just took Xanax and selflessly served as scribe. The group limited itself to conservative amounts of drugs because of "one story a participant had heard of adverse reactions (i.e. heart attack) from women whose partners had put cocaine on their cocks before intercourse, as well as experiences of rectal administration." If you're going to get your vagina high, you should definitely do so thoughtfully and with the uttermost respect.

Before the women tripped, they "noted age, weight, medications, point in the menstrual cycle, and astrological info (sun/moon/ascendant. hey why not)." Why not, indeed! Also: "Chocolate was ingested by the majority of the participants prior to administration. A small altar was set up with objects of personal significance. Note: the LSD blotter imprint was 'condoms.' the irony was not lost on us."

Disappointingly, none of the women had notably strong trips; it turns out that if you want to hallucinate that the sky is an Etch A Sketch/have the most amaaaaaazing back-scratch experience ever/cry about your dead hamster for hours while simultaneously convinced that the magnets on your fridge are watching you, you should swallow your drugs instead. "Consensus seemed that this was not an efficient way of dosing, and that for any future experiments, compounds should be in solution or in some cream form for better dispersion," the participants mused.

They sure did try, though, even amidst "general restlessness about 'not feeling very high.'" At one point, one woman's husband was invited over to deliver "the nitrous oxide delivery device [whipped cream canister]" and momentarily joined in the fun:

He is offered a cartridge of nitrous to enjoy before returning home, and is treated to a pleasant way to augment nitrous oxide inhalation that was refined at a previous slumber party. The person inhaling sits on the floor with all the others in a circle around them. After inhalation, the circle of people make soft strange noises and whisper affirmations and nice things around the person in the middle, moving around to change the location of the sounds and create air movement, generally weaving a sonic web around them. This is a gourmet version of saying 'wa wa wa' to someone on nitrous. After this, the husband promptly left.

Eventually, the scribe was like "fuck it" and swallowed some GHB and took a few bumps of ketamine, prompting others to forget about the original plan. According to the report, the tone of the gathering changed from "linear and intellectual" to "a social ketamine trip."

But before that, some very scientific sample reactions:

MJ: 33 y.o., 132 lbs., meds: acid blocker, anti-inflammatory (one steroidal), asthma meds, birth control;
Aquarius, Pisces, Libra.
She took 1 hit of blotter acid vag, followed by 50 mg MDMA vag. at T+0:25 and a hit of blotter acid at T+1:00.
After 25 min., she is burping which is normally an alert associated with nausea, but there’s no nausea this time. After 35 min. she’s having a little trouble with linear speech. After 1 hour she is feeling “off baseline”. Shortly after that she checks and comments “cunt smells sweeter, and tastes like E.” At T1:20 she takes 60 more mg MDMA vaginally, and at T2:30 announces she’s “off baseline.”

DC: 42 y.o., 127 lbs., meds: birth control pills, menstruating and has a yeast infection, Leo, Aries, Sagitarius.
She took 1 hit of blotter acid vag., then another after one hour. At T+2:30, “Well I say, I’m not going to get high tonight.”

DL: 24 y.o., 130 lbs., no meds, ovulating. Taurus, Taurus, Virgo
She took 10 mg 2C-B vag. [normal oral dose is 17 mg]
After 10 minutes, feeling “fluttery,” “I’m feeling high.” After 40 minutes, “cunt feels hot” followed by “I’m high” and “feeling it in my body, it’s not in my head.” After 2 hours, “Not really feeling high. Would be feeling this dose more if it were oral.”

HOWEVER. One woman (Sagittarius, Cancer, Capricorn) who took 1 hit of blotter acid vag, followed by 50 mg MDMA vag. at T+0:25 and a hit of blotter acid at T+1:00, had quite the delayed reaction.

The next morning after waking up, she noted that her "cunt smells sweet," and then had sex with her husband which "potentiated the MDMA that she hadn’t really fully felt the night before!"

So one fun sex trick you can do (Cosmo, are you listening?) is put MDMA in your vagina and then have sex ~24 hours later.

While the women were high(ish), they discussed "different ways we could experiment with this method of administration, what we can research about women and psychoactives (history, existing data on pharmacology), women’s circles and group tripping, issues related to families, and how there is a lack of visible psychedelic mentors for women." They also planned a future experiment, "perhaps with liquid cactus extract." The next morning, breakfast was followed by a "group hug to seal in the fun, trust, spirit of experimentation and camaraderie."

Who are these women and how do we track them down and make them our spirit guides/best friends?

Image by Jim Cooke, source photo via Shutterstock.

Best-Selling Author Seeks Female Participant for Erotic Novel Research

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Taking the "unpaid intern" degradation to its logical conclusion, erotic novelist Chad Leslie Peters posted an ad late last week to Craigslist seeking a "female participant" for a 30-day love affair which he plans to turn into a book.

According to Peters, his first novel, an e-book entitled The Affair: a Thirty Day Experiment in Love, became a bestseller on Amazon, reaching the top twenty in the site's erotic books category.

He's now preparing to write a sequel to The Affair. And that's where you come in:

The book will detail every aspect of a mutually-agreed to romantic affair between myself and a young FEMALE lover (perhaps you), experienced over 30 days, as in the novel. The difference between the first book and this one will be verite: everything in this new volume will be the truth as both participants see it. If you agree to participate in this project, you will keep a diary of all of your thoughts, impressions and memories of the thirty day affair that we will share. I will then combine your written thoughts with my own to present the reader with two versions of the same erotic story. One love affair, as seen separately by the man and woman.

Peters insists he is a "serious writer" and this project is "meant to be taken seriously by the participant that I choose."

In addition to taking both him and his project seriously, Peters also requests that prospective applicants be at least 20 years old with a clean bill of sexual health who is "preferably an English or writing Major."

And they said your degree would be worthless.

[screengrab via Craigslist]

This Personal Essay Will Get You Into Columbia

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By now, most high school seniors planning to attend college in the fall have selected their chosen institute of higher education. It’s an exciting time for you, Wildcats '13, and you probably have some questions about your future. Such as, who will I meet? What clubs will I join? What if my roommate only wants to stay in the room eating cold cuts and watching Moesha re-runs? Will I decide to buy a body pillow from Bed Bath and Beyond? (Yes, besides being extremely comfortable body pillows are an excellent way to block you from other people's booger walls). In an effort to get to know each other a little better before the fall rolls around, several members of Columbia University’s future class of 2017 uploaded their college application essays into a shared Google doc. That Google doc, which contains 70 essays that either answer the Columbia essay prompt or the Common app prompt, was then shared with us. And now with you.

Columbia's incoming freshman class created a Facebook group for all newly accepted students. But you know what? A Facebook group doesn't tell you who is “an exquisite manifestation of dreams." A Facebook group also doesn't leave a whole lotta room for an imagined dialogue between you, Oscar Hammerstein II (class of '19) and Tom Kitt (class of '96) at Sardi's restaurant in New York. A college application essay, though—that will do all the talking for you. So in order to foster a sense of community and shared values, they decided to put theirs all on the internet for each other to read. And us, too.

Not everyone can get into an Ivy league, but wouldn’t it be great if everyone could? We have culled several of the best lines from all 70 essays to create The. ULTIMATE. College. Essay. If you simply follow this format and copy and paste your favorite lines, you are 100% guaranteed to get into Columbia next year. For everyone who wishes "they were taught to love by a city of dancers," here's how it's done:

Hook Em: It's all about that attention-grabbing first line. And adverbs.

  • “'Get an abortion.'”
  • "All week as I looked at the Drum Circle, waiting for the Flag Ceremony to begin."
  • "The comfort zone— I was about to leave it."
  • "This was a matter of life and death."
  • "This one is mine :)"
  • "My fingers twitched at my side, itching to pick up the prosthetic."
  • "She was naked, and I was scared."

What makes you YOU: How do you see yourself? Show us how the world should see you.

  • "Who else’s identity can really be constructed by the calculus of fragmented memories? Not mine!"
  • “'You’re such a hipster.' It’s a phrase heard everyday in school hallways across America, and its usage often operates as a conundrum that obscures teenagers’ perceptions of themselves and who they want to be."
  • "A puppet hidden, a walkway lonely, a pair of scissors cheating, a stone opening, a leaf floating, a door shining."

  • "I was no Victor Frankenstein."
  • "I love experimenting new things [sic], exploring new places, and assisting those in need."
  • "I have always been less than enthusiastic about CPR classes."
  • "I am an individual free to create my own path and blaze a trail."
  • "Despite the years that had passed, the intimacy of the memories flooded me, bringing with them a mix of emotions from anxiety to panic. Through blogging and subsequent interactions, I came to embrace my flawed nature, and I inspired others to do the same."
  • "Behind my mask, I am a criminal. Behind my mask, I am a sinner. My soul will burn in hell, as the Bible—and my father—says. Behind this mask is who I really am."

Set the Scene: Remember, god is in the details. What did your cheeks do? They burned. What is your mother? A wild horse. How is your skepticism? Radiant.

  • "The setting uproots itself. I muse on a field trip bus and write in an anonymous notebook. I’m creating a language. It’s named 'Elvish,' and it’s based on Latin: the ephemeral warrior with the Roman lover."
  • "In the temperate winter of my tenth grade year, I developed an interest in rap music."
  • "The summer air was sweet and caring as we sat there, drank some rootbeer and pondered the cosmos."
  • "I sat there, perturbed and burning with radiant skepticism."
  • "Time skips to a blues rhythm."
  • "Here, Dali and Chagall are gods. Frusciante’s music fills the air as I walk down the promenade. Actors are playing out scenes from my life."
  • "I could only hope she would see my pleading eyes."
  • "My cheeks burned."
  • "My heart pounds violently against my chest, pushing against the smooth blue fabric of my dress. I can practically see the silverware quivering, shaking, and as I realize that the adrenaline rush I am feeling is causing my hands to tremble, too, I feel someone seize my arm. Vamos a bailar! Let’s dance!"
  • "I feel tingly as my prom date and I stand up together and move to the center of the room. But this time, they aren’t shivers of fear."
  • "I stand engulfed in curtained darkness. Around me, shadowy figures shift anxiously, like caged animals searching for an escape."
  • "The haggard piece of cloth, worn at the edges but still strong at its core, looked at me desperately and clung to me determinedly."
  • "She [my mother] is a wild horse, as erratic as she is gregarious."
  • "An exquisite manifestation of dreams, dreams that leave me yearning for more."
  • "Not because the sun blazed torridly on my brow and the sultry air hung on my neck like a noose, but disoriented because of the sight before my eyes— stables."
  • "The summer air was sweet and caring as we sat there, drank some rootbeer and pondered the cosmos. And so we talked. We talked about women, and how awful they are, and how fantastic they are, and how awful they are. Out of nowhere, I began to cry and in the most gentle and angelic voice I heard Alex say something I found quite alien: 'crying is okay, buddy.' So I cried like a girl and I cried for everything I was losing."

What Did You Do to Impress: You are a snowflake. You are Gaia. You are all that is good. Don't be shy when it comes to describing your goals, your achievements, your Beanie Babies.

  • "Thus, my rise to the hipster ideal began. Throughout my middle school years, this natural instinct of mine manifested itself in many different ways: jeans tucked into knee-high socks, anything from punk to Harlem renaissance jazz bellowing from my headphones, Palahniuk novels peeking out of my backpack."
  • "I began to participate in Socratic seminars."
  • "But as time went on and the songs filed under the 'Rap' genre on my iTunes grew in number, I pinpointed exactly where my general discomfort had started: Rap, as a genre and as an attitude, has little-to-no place for women."
  • "When I told Sally that over the summer I was going to Africa to help teach children English, she was horrified, fearing the worst."
  • "In the summer of my junior year I stunned my family by insisting on going, instead of our staples of France, Italy and Switzerland, to St. Petersburg, where most of the Russian Royalty had lived."

  • "Almost a month had passed and we only had a handful of Beanie Babies to show for all the work I put into this project. And yet, despite all my efforts, only four members responded to my pleas for Beanie Baby donations."
  • "As I glanced around, tightly clutching my brand-spanking-new lacrosse stick, an awful epiphany struck me: I had enrolled in an all-boys lacrosse camp."
  • "Ironically, I tried hard to use this garment to broadcast my individuality; I went through phases wearing a skullcap bedecked in everything from Pokemon characters to the cast of Seinfeld."

What You Learned: Your journey is over. What have you gleaned?

  • "Such is the problem with my infatuation with 'Arrested Development,' which, despite critical acclaim and a loyal fanbase (case in point: me), was cancelled after three seasons. So 'Arrested Development' is the epitome of all things—good, bad, or ironic—coming to inevitable conclusions. However, I recently found out that 'Arrested Development' was revived for another season. Some things aren’t over yet."
  • "After qualifying for and going to Nationals, I realize that getting there is 90% want and 10% skill. I love knowing that if I try the hardest I will win."
  • "The journey of Taekwondo is analogous to the journey of life."
  • "Tortoise= America

    Hare= Banks

    Regulators= Regulators

    Tape-makers= Rating agencies

    Sub-ground= Sub-prime loans

    Bleachers= Housing market

    Prize= Bailout

    Intricate system of tunnels= Derivative markets"

Conclusion: End it. And end it HUGE.

  • "I wake up every morning to be nicer, faster, stronger, smarter, and better. I wake up every morning to win."
  • "The revelations and inspirations I acquired from my internship have only just begun snowballing."
  • "One who seeks to identify himself and be identified by others as a 'hipster' undoubtably strives to conform to the 'hipster' construct; he tries to fit himself inside an inflexible 'hipster' box."

  • "After all, what am I but the things I've done?"
  • "The tide is rising, my ship is packed, and I am ready to set sail."
  • "Moving forward, I cannot wait to meet new friends, hear about their families, and discuss everything from our latest travels."

  • "However, I recently found out that “Arrested Development” was revived for another season. Some things aren’t over yet."

Below are two of the most outstanding essays in full. Read the whole enchilada here while you can.

Image by Jim Cooke.

Columbia Essay Hispters (PDF)
Columbia Essay Hispters (Text)
Describe Something (PDF)
Describe Something (Text)

Romantic First Date Ends with Man Carjacking Woman at Gunpoint

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A Florida woman who celebrated her 21st birthday last week by going out with a man she met through a series of texts ended up getting carjacked by her date following a romantic walk on the beach.

Nimeha Milien says she hadn't met 19-year-old Donald McGee Jr. of Hollywood before they went out for the first time last Friday evening, but the two had texted back and forth several times prior to their date.

According to Milien, McGee was a perfect gentleman — right up until the carjacking, that is.

The two spent some time walking and talking at Ocean Inlet Park in Palm Beach County, before ending the night in the parking lot of a Wendy's on Boynton Beach Boulevard.

After telling Milien he was waiting for his brother to come pick him up, McGee suddenly produced a .380-caliber Kel Tec handgun and pointed it at the woman's face.

McGee then ordered Milien out of the car, and proceeded to drive away.

Milien ran to a nearby gas station and asked a patron to phone 911.

Boynton Beach police officers pursued McGee for some eight miles along Interstate 95 before he lost control of the car and ended up by the side of the road.

After a brief attempt to flee, McGee was arrested and charged with armed carjacking, robbery with a firearm, possession of marijuana, driving without a license, and fleeing police.

He reportedly told the cops he needed to "get out of the area," but wouldn't elaborate.

As for Milien, she says she's done with dating for a while, but is mostly just happy to be alive.

"I'm glad that I'm alive to be able to see my 21st birthday because I want to be able to make a difference in this world," she told WPBF News. "If I had died on that night, I wouldn't have done anything."

[H/T: Guyism, mug shot via Palm Beach County Sheriff's Office]

Rivers Across the Midwest Expected to Reach Major Flood Levels

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Many tributaries and major rivers in the midwest are forecasted to surpass major flood levels over the next week. Because of extremely heavy rainfall and snow in the last week, the surge is moving down rivers throughout the midwest. So far, three deaths associated with the flooding have been reported.

Grand Rapids, Michigan experienced a high point of 21.85 feet of water in their downtown. Areas south of St. Louis are expected to crest later this week.

As of late yesterday afternoon, more than 150 gauges reached flood stages across the upper Midwest. 37 of these gauges met "major" flood stage levels. Meteorologists report that flooding could get worse today and tomorrow as rain and show increase.

[USA Today, image via AP]

The ongoing evolution of former poet laureate and Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Simic into the world

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The ongoing evolution of former poet laureate and Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Simic into the world's best blogger is the greatest thing going in American letters.

Burglar Phones Police After Mistaking Family Cat for Another Burglar

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A cat is being credited with foiling a burglary after scaring a would-be burglar into thinking there was another thief inside the house.

Marius Ionescu, 31, of Benesti, Romania, was in the middle of ransacking a house in his hometown when he suddenly heard a noise that prompted him to jump under the bed.

From there he phoned the local police to alert them to a burglary taking place inside the residence he was in the process of burgling.

Too afraid to leave, Ionescu stuck around long enough for the police to arrive and arrest him.

"He already has a criminal record for similar break-ins, and given his nervous disposition, he probably should look for another job," police spokesperson Mihaela Straub is quoted as saying. "He’s likely to have a lot of time inside jail to consider things."

[H/T: Shortlist via Fark, photo via Etsy]

Justin Bieber’s Monkey Still Languishing in a German Prison

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Earlier this month, the world was stunned to learn that The Boy in the Chanel Ski Mask, Justin Bieber, had abandoned his baby capuchin monkey, Mally, in Germany because all prior evidence had indicated that Justin Bieber would make a levelheaded and responsible mother.

At the time, German customs officials announced they would give the popstar four weeks—an eternity in the world of Justin Bieber, whose attention span lasts but an instant—to return to Munich with the paperwork necessary to have his monkey released from quarantine. Three weeks later, Bieber’s management team has reportedly reached out to the animal shelter where Mally is being kept and asked that they, I dunno, take care of that monkey Justin Bieber left behind or whatever.

A spokesman for the Munich Animal Protection League shelter told the AP that the League had received two emails from a member of Bieber’s management company. The first asked how long Bieber had to provide the paperwork before Mally would be euthanized. The shelter responded that German animals shelters do not practice euthanasia. The second email asked if the shelter knew of any zoos looking to get their hands on a capuchin monkey:

"Our team is looking into the idea of placing Mally at a zoo in Germany. Would you happen to have any recommendations for places that Mally would be safe and thrive?”

You see, Justin Bieber doesn’t want Mally to die. He just wants him to be alive somewhere else.

A spokesman for German customs told the AP that the monkey would remain in the shelter until Justin Bieber or Justin Bieber's power of attorney (“No one has the power of attorney except me!” Justin yells, splashing a Dixie cup full of water onto his dressing room mirror. “I’m the man! I’m the power!”) contacts customs directly. If he wants to send it to a zoo, the AP reports the singer will “likely have to pay costs associated with keeping the monkey so far and a fine.”

His deadline to file the standard paperwork has apparently been extended to May 17th, judging by the customs official’s innocuous, yet somehow still terrifying, statement.

"If by May 17 there is nothing, then he loses ownership of the animal and it becomes the property of the Federal Republic of Germany.”

Not that it matters, because Justin Bieber does not want that baby monkey that he had for a week before leaving it in Germany a month ago.

[AP // Image via Getty]

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