The Harlem Shake is dead.
Thank God. It was killed not by the Internet, which tried really hard to wear out this silly dance craze that everybody in America was seemingly doing all at once, but by a most unlikely source:
The Minnesota Timberwolves mascot, Crunch. Watch the video above; I cackled out loud each of the three times I enjoyed it.
Seriously, America, our dance crazes are getting dumber and dumber. I mean, the Electric Slide and the Macarena at least required some effort! The Harlem Shake and the Gangnam Style crap just seemed really stupid to me.
So thank you, Crunch, for doing what so many of us have been hoping for.
**Hugo Chavez died Tuesday, as you may have heard. He was a tyrant and a crazy man, which makes me surprised that he died at age 58. Usually it seems like dictators and crazy people live until at least 90.
There will be much written about Chavez and what a lunatic he was, and there won’t be much mourning for him here in America.
Except in one pocket of New York City, the South Bronx, one of the poorest neighborhoods in the U.S.
For years Chavez provided discounted Venezuelan heating oil to low-income residents of the South Bronx; he even visited the borough back in 2005. For people that were suffering and needed heat, they had an unlikely friend thousands of miles away.
I suppose that just proves that nobody is 100 percent bad, though Chavez comes pretty damn close.
**Finally, I’ve been highly remiss in this space lately in reporting on bizarre news from the great state of Florida. It’s not that the news has gotten less bizarre down there, I just keep forgetting to write about it after hearing it.
But this, my friends, this I cannot ignore. Two weeks ago a woman in Florida was shot by her friend’s oven.
That’s right, an oven. Seems Aalaya Walker was visiting a friend in St. Petersburg when they decided they wanted some late-night waffles.
So Walker began preheating the oven — unaware that her friend, JJ Sandy, 25, (which would be a great porn name, wouldn’t it?) was storing a magazine from his .45-caliber Glock 21 in the oven.
Because really, who doesn’t store their gun magazines in the oven? I know I do.
Of course, the magazine exploded, spraying casing fragments at high speed and striking Walker. She managed to pick some of the fragments out of her leg and chest and then took a bus to the hospital, where she was treated and released.
The most amazing part of that story to me? That she took a bus to the hospital! Dude, I’m sorry, but if you accidentally shoot your friend while she’s making waffles, I think you owe it to her to drive her to the ER yourself.
But I guess I’m a hopeless romantic that day.