Why even bother with the coin toss?

Quick, think of the three people physically closest to you right now. If you’re alone, just think of three people you happen to know. Good. Now, do you believe that God decides the outcome of sporting events? If you answered “no,” at least one of the three people said “yes.”

According to a new survey by impartial-sounding Public Religion Research Institute, 27 percent of Americans believe that “athletes who believe in God will have good health and success.” This explains why a man who plays a game consistently on the Lord’s day, who was involved in the murder of another man, obstructed justice and then struck a deal with the victim’s family, is in the Super Bowl. He does thank God, after all.

Murder most immoral

Rest assured, America: when it comes to murder, Justice Antonin Scalia is opposed to it on moral grounds.

Speaking at a Princeton seminar on Monday, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia argued that every state should have the right to make laws against behavior that its electorate deems immoral — like homosexuality. And to make his point, he made a very close, relevant comparison: murder.

Now, some of you out there might find that comparison appalling, but when you really think about it, how different is homosexuality from homicide? Same first three letters, for one. Also, one is a non-consensual act of physical intimacy between a man and the person he’s murdering, while the other one is icky in a buttsex sort of way.

So, aren’t we glad that Proposition 8 and the Defense of Marriage Act are on the high court’s 2013 docket?

We named the dog a character witness

Riverside County, Calif., prosecutors have charged a 10-year-old boy with “murder involving a gun.” According to authorities, the boy intentionally shot his father, a regional leader of the National Socialist Movement, a.k.a. the Neo-Nazis.

His defense attorney said he may make an insanity plea, but we kinda hope he’ll set a new precedent with the first-ever “Indiana Jones” defense.

Supremely good news, bad news

OK, so the U.S. Supreme Court has good news and bad news. Which would you like first?

We’re sorry. You should speak up louder when addressing your computer, especially if you’re at work. We’ll just assume you said, “Good news first.”

The good news is that if you’re a a juvenile delinquent, then you can no longer receive a life sentence for your crimes unless you kill someone … intentionally. So, this is kind of bad news if you’re a parent and lack the stones to “take out” the bad seed you “brought in to this world.” The system won’t do it for you anymore. (That’s not our “bad news,” though.)

The bad news is that you can still be held indefinitely for sex crimes, which are not murder. So, if you’re gonna have sex with your high school girlfriend (assuming you’re in high school or a famous film director), make sure you have her parents’ consent first.

So, keep your hands gloved and your hard drive clean; otherwise, you’re grounded for life.

Nicknames less cool when prosecution uses them

Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Blackwater nicknaming ritual …

Sgt. Blutarsky: From now on, your Blackwater nickname is “Weasel.”

From now on, your name is “Mothball.”

Kroger, your Blackwater nickname is “Pinto.”

Kroger: Why “Pinto?”

Sgt. Blutarsky: [belches] Why not?!

Dorfman: What’s my Blackwater name?

Sgt. Blutarsky: Dorfman, I’ve given this a lot of thought. From now on … your name is “Savage Viking.”

Dorfman: … “Savage Viking?

Apparently, Blackwater’s attorneys think it reflects poorly on their defendants when their mercenary nicknames are used in court during muder trials. Really, who would convict someone named “Murder” of murder based solely on their name? That seems awfully “Extreme” or even “Savage.”

Let this blog state for the record that I want my Blackwater nickname to be Jagged Metal Cock.

(Special thanks to Matt Staggs.)

Old people kill the darndest things

I must warn you: this is an old story.

We’ve seen many a story here on SG involving the death of people, but rarely do we see a story with a discrepancy in age this close to each other.

Or, for that matter, when the persons involved are a 98 year old and a centenarian.

Laura Lundquist is accused of killing her 100 year old roommate, Elizabeth Barrow, over a table.

Barrow complained that the table obstructed her path to the bathroom, authorities said. When a nurse’s aide moved it, Lundquist punched the aide and grumbled that her roommate “might as well have the whole room,”

Because, you know,98 year olds are known for their devastating arm strength. We give the story two months before ABC revises their “Horrors of Nursing Homes” 20/20 report to include this new “shocking revelation.”

The McBournie Minute: The party’s not over until several people die

When last we spoke, dear reader, I was unsure if I was going to be alive to write this entry. I am pleased to announce that I am not in fact dead. Actually, I survived the murder mystery party on Halloween. However, as if by some strange coincidence, the party was frought with … murder.

The place: a speakeasy in Chicago. The time: 1920. I walked in to a “house” and gave the password to let them know I was allowed in. I Rhett Bumbler (I didn’t choose the name) and my fiancée in the game Rebecca Ravioli (because I dig skirts with food-related names), who is my girlfriend in real life, were not all we appeared to be. I was a horrible gambler, which was not a hard act for me, but that was only my cover. In truth, I was a hitman sent by the New York families to find out why their share was so small. When I found the source, my job, presumably, was to hit it, because you see, killing’s my game. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: The party’s not over until several people die

Update: Georgia to plagiarize killer professor’s grave

As we reported earlier this week, police found the corpse of George Zinkhan in a grave he dug and covered with brush before shooting himself.

While most believe it was suicide after killing his wife and two of her theater associates, there’s also the less popular (or, our) theory that he was making his own tiger trap.

Now state and local officials have almost reached an impass about what to do with his body. Zinkhan’s family hasn’t claimed his body despite repeated calls, and after a certain point, even the morgue decides a body stinks too much.

So, unless somebody steps forward, he’ll be reburied in a “pauper’s grave,” begging the question: and they dug him up why?