Ask the Magic Internet a Stupid Question No. 0042

 I was perusing one of the numerous Simpsons reruns last night. It was the one where Side Show Bob fakes his own death. (Actually that probably refers to several episodes involving Side Show Bob.) But in this one Bart ends up in a coffin about to be cremated when the Simpson family bursts in and Homer picks up a cardboard box marked unclaimed ashes and throws a handful in Bob’s face while yelling Eat hobo ash! Needles to say I found this highly amusing. I’d show you the clip but it doesn’t seem to be online.  So I will placate you with this equally amusing classic Simpsons hobo scene:

But that hobo ash thing got me thinking. What happens to all the hobos and crackheads and John and Jane Does that wind up unclaimed at the morgue? They can’t keep them in the lost and found forever.

Sooner or later they’ve got to clean out the fridge.

And cremation would seem the most logical solution. It would make them easier to store and/or dispose of. Hey maybe they sell it off as like a souvenir. The L.A. County Coroner’s Office sells all kinds of souvenir crap.

Hey what’s that I see in the corner?

Genuine hobo ashes in handy display bottles!

Or they could sell bags of it for your garden.

Just like zoo poo!

Actually that seems a little morbid, even for a Coroner’s Office with a gift shop. Probably better to sell it off to a big corporation for some shady purpose. It could be what’s fleshing out Chicken McNuggets. Do you know how they make those things?

Let's just say you’d rather have a tour of the morgue than the McNugget Factory.

But seriously what does happen to all the unclaimed bodies at the morgue? Let’s ask the Magic Internet and put my mind at ease.

Question 42: What happens to unclaimed bodies at the morgue?

Hobo Ops - watch more funny videos

Magic Internet Answer: You humans are always asking question about death. In my days of endless Googling I can tell you that there are much stranger and more fearsome questions to be asked about you human’s lives. But it is a valid question and one of your less stupid so I will answer it. A body only winds up at a coroner’s office if the death is deemed to be violent or suspicious or the body is unclaimed. Unclaimed bodies are categorized in to three types: unidentified corpses, identified corpses unclaimed by family members or identified corpses whose family cannot be reached. In the cases of the later 2 there can be many different reasons why the body remains unclaimed. The deceased may have been someone that moved around a lot with no fixed address. They may be an immigrant with no family nearby or their family may not wish to incur the cost and responsibility that comes with claiming the body.  In these situations the coroner’s office will do its best to return the body to the family.

Attn dead guy: If your last request involves something like this. Good luck getting claimed.

They will usually keep the body for about 30 days but it could be as little as a week depending on the office and the space available. When the allotted time is up the body is scanned, dental x-rays are taken as well as DNA samples for a record and then the body is removed for a low cost burial or cremation. The samples taken can be filed indefinitely in the hopes that the body can be identified at a later date. The Ontario Provincial Police have even released some of this information onto a website for the public to view in hopes they can help. But if an unidentified body is part of an ongoing or open investigation it could remain at the morgue for a very long time. Bodies are normally kept at a temperature of 4C but if the body is to be kept longer it will be kept at much colder -20C. In fact the Toronto coroner’s office has the body of a female murder victim found 35 years ago still in its freezer.

Yikes Magic Internet. Stuck in Toronto at -20C for 35 years!

Insert Canadian winter joke here.

But maybe it’s better to be safe than sorry. One week seems a little premature. They could just be hibernating.

Insert 2^nd Canadian winter joke here.

Just as long as they make sure they’re actually dead. Hell Bernie Lomax was dead for a week and nobody noticed. So it could work in reverse. They could be a Hard Man Fe Dead. Right Prince Buster?

Gooddognohumpbegginsnauseobites

Good evening ladies and germs. Ha, ha, ha. Was that line ever actually funny? Do you think the punk band the Germs ever opened one of their shows with that line?

Someone threw away a perfectly good white girl.

Now that was a funny line!



Oh well, cutting edge 1940s comedy lines and Better Off Dead clips aside, I do have something on my mind today. Dog treats. Have you seen what’s going on with dog treats these days?

Wild Alaskin Salmon?!

Grilled Wild Boar?! (Not fried, no, on. Grilled)

Dog Ice Cream?!

My dog sleeps on the floor, shits on the sidewalk and hasn’t had a bath in at least 2 weeks. It’s essentially like living with a homeless person. Yet I’m supposed feed it the menu equivalent of Jamie Oliver teaming up with Ted Nugent and Ben & Jerry to open up a restaurant in Williamsburg?! It’s madness I tell you. But it’s not like we all didn’t see this coming. Dog food makers have been exploiting dog owners’ own selfish cravings for years. I think it began with the revelation that most dog owners are only slightly smarter than their pets and if you can create a dog food that the owner would kind of like to eat then chances are they will buy it for their pet.

Take Kibbles ‘N Bits for example.



It may be the first dog food to have its own distinctive look. And you know what? It’s just Bits & Bites for dogs.

The name’s pretty much the same and it even looks the same.

Even down to those little orange bullet shaped things that were everyone’s favorite.

Then Alpo came out with its Prime Cuts line of canned dog food.

In Gravy!

Hell even I kind of want to eat that. And look at the can in the background there. It might as well be Chunky Soup.

Fully loaded?!

I wonder how many drunken bachelors have come home and accidently heated up a can of Alpo. Or better yet fed a can of Chunky to their dog the next morning?

YES!

But then things changed. Stupid people started eating worse and worse food. There was no way that the next generation of dumb-people-insta -food could be sold based on its visual appeal. Have you ever seen inside a Michalina’s?

What did you expect from something called Wheels & Cheese?

So how do you sell crap like this to the public? Well you could go the route of the TV Dinner people and push quantity.

Now in your shirt size!

Or you could use those flavor buzz wards we all know so well. Words like cheese and bacon.

The food industry collectively said, Let it be so. And the dog food people, happy that they no longer had to make a can of liquefied horse balls look like prime rib, jumped for joy.

Dogs shouldn’t be eating bacon. People shouldn’t be eating bacon. If we really loved our dogs we would demand treats based on what the dog really likes. Not what we like. Now that’s a good idea.

Presenting: Creepshow’s Gooddognohumpbegginsnauseobites (With distinct flavors that are just for dogs. No humans allowed!)

Flavors like:

Other Dog’s Ass

It may be no bed or roses to you but what dog doesn’t love the heady aroma of another dogs ass? Well now they can enjoy it in the form of a treat. Slip a couple of these in your purse and you’ll have a good boy all day long. (Comes in both male and female flavors for insane homophobes.)

Or try:

Toilet Bowl

How many times have you told your dog to get away from that toilet bowl? Well now you can reward him for doing so with exactly what he wants. Toilet bowl flavored treats.

And roll over for:

Tramp’s Pant Leg

Like Marco Polo returning from the Orient laden with exotic spices your average tramp’s trousers are laden with revolting delicacies the likes have which can only be required by a true gentleman of the road. We’ve done our best to capture these savory treats in a biscuit form that we think your dog will love. (just don’t ask us how, you don’t want to know.)

The Bag the Chinese Food Came In

Pretty self-explanatory treat here. Your dog can enjoy it any time and you don’t have to worry about him ingesting that pesky receipt staple.

Sundried Racoon Guts

Mmm, that leash pullingly good taste of something that once ate garbage and is now long dead. What more could a dog ask for?

You see. Your dog’s true culinary desires range from mildly nauseating to truly revolting. And I suppose no one is going to want market that. Well at least these new modern foody options for dogs claim to be more healthy. If that means our dogs will live longer and happier lives, then I guess I’m for it.

And bonus: No more white dog poop.

Also I kind of like the idea of watching dogs eat ice cream

Smell ya later good dogs.

CSI: Trivial Revulsion Unit.

There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you all. Something very disturbing. A few months ago I found out that someone had been taking shits in my building!

That’ll get you a husband.

And I’m not talking about shits in the toilets of my building. Of course people take shits there. (Except maybe some of the old people. Some of them look and act like they haven’t taken a shit in months.)

3 months 4 days on the left. 8 and 12 on the right.

No I’m talking about some filthy animal defecating in the garbage room and the hallways. (Of the 21st and 22nd floors to be precise.) I did not bear witness to the offensive leavings first hand and for this I am truly thankful. I don’t know if any of you have come across human shit outside of its natural environment.

New pet turd natural habitat aquarium! Self cleaning!

Living in a buzzing metropolis as I do does have its downsides and let me tell you, it is not a pretty sight. It looks all black and sloppy and disgusting and there’s usually some sort of wiping implement next to it. Allow me to demonstrate. If you’re eating chocolate pudding or a hearty beef stew, take a bite….

Now!

See, it’s disgusting. I pick up my dog’s shit everyday no problem but coming within 10 feet of something like that up there leaves a lasting psychological scar. Who would subject people to that? My original plan was to bring together some of the world’s greatest sleuths to help me identify this butt muck bandit.

The inclusion of toilet paper tells us 2 things. That the shitting was premeditated and that the shitter was left handed.

Err, umm, just one more question Mr. Peterson. Did you have corn for dinner last night?

But it turns out that all of my super sleuths aren’t really sleuths at all. They’re just actors that solve mysteries on TV. And on top of that, most of them are dead. All is not lost though. I’ve read my fare share of Ian Rankin novels and I’ve watched my fare share of First 48 episodes. Detective Johnny Creepshow Shit Investigator will take the case.

Someone get me my mirror shades and my Who tape.

Let’s start by taking a better look at the crime scene. My building is not one of these building where human defecation in common areas is to be expected. I do not live in one of those buildings like in Coming to America.



I’d also like to add that my building has good working plumbing and that each separate dwelling contains (I hope) a toilet. Now if the shitting only took place on one floor and was only confined to the relative privacy of the garbage room we could entertain the theory that the shitter was in a desperate situation and unable to gain access to a toilet. (Lost his keys, first date with a hot girl, roommate masturbating in their shared bathroom etc…). But no, the shitting took place on multiple floors and in the hallway. What does this tell us? It tells us that our suspect is clearly deranged and that the shit is not only a manifestation of the suspect’s mental instability but that it is also a message to others around him. If the shitting was purely a symptom of one’s decent into madness then we would expect it to continue but it seems to have stopped. If we can figure out who these analy authored messages are for. Then we will be one step closer to unmasking our shiter.

Possible message recipients:

Building Management

An obvious choice. Every tenant at one time or another has a complaint about their building landlord/management. But to go the extreme of shitting in your own building? It doesn’t seem right. Besides, the management office is in the other building right across the parking lot. Why not shit there? Or you could even mail it to them like in Pink Flamingos.



The Cleaning Staff.

Another viable target as they will be the ones that have to clean it up. Perfect revenge for one who has been slighted by them. But who would take offence to the cleaning staff? They’re all very nice and they do a good job. That only leaves one other recipient

Neighboring Tenants.

They are the most likely targets. People often become disgruntled by their neighbors. And as the feuding goes on, things can escalate and get a bit of hand.

The Reverse Birmingham - watch more funny videos

Based on all the information available and the lack of further evidence (thankfully) I have narrowed my investigation down to three suspects. They are as follows.

Suspect 1: The lady that lives above me.

I’ve only met her a couple of times but I’m pretty sure this is her.

One time she came down and knocked on my door and told me to leave her stuff alone or she would call the cops on me. It turns out she’s crazy and knocked on all the doors around her because she thought her neighbors were stealing her stuff. Actually she’s probably not responsible for shitting in the hall but I’m going to say she is because I don’t like her and it’s my investigation. (Innocent people get convicted of things they didn’t do all the time.)

Suspect 2: That weird blonde kid.

He’s like this but uglier.

There used to be a bunch of kids that would run around the halls of my building leaving candy wrappers and bits of food on the floor. Mostly they were just kids being kids but the blonde on was creepy. I a have yet to establish a motive for him but he was once witnessed out back peeing on a mop and chasing the other kids with it. He is now a teenager and it’s not hard to envision him escalating from mop peeing to hallway shitting. Also his mom comes out onto their balcony in her underwear all the time. That’s got to mess him up.

Suspect 3: The bum that used to sleep out back.

My main suspect. We had a homeless, druggy guy that used to sleep on a ledge behind our building. He was really annoying because he would leave his old socks and all his weird junky shit back there and sometimes if I was out back in the park with the dog and she barked he would yell at her to shut up. Nobody liked him and various methods were employed to try and get him to leave including threats, police and throwing cold water on him/his stuff. Eventually they put up fencing so he could no longer get at his ledge. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he held a grudge against the tenants of my building. Maybe while he was laying back there pretending to sleep he was secretly listening to the conversations of the people in the dog park and gaining information as to which floors the people he disliked most lived on. Bums are no strangers to public defecation. He may have slipped in behind someone coming in through the front doors and headed upstairs to exact his smelly revenge. Perhaps after his last dump he was spotted in the lobby and deemed it too risky to attempt further shits. Or perhaps he’s biding his time. Knowing that revenge is a dump best served cold and he will strike again when we lease expect it. I never got a decent look at him, so I best keep my eye out for any down and out in my neighborhood with a shifty look in his eye.

I googled the word shifty and all I got was this washed up mess from Crazytown. He is now a suspect too.

Sadly this is a case that has also grown cold and I am left with the sickening thought shared by many a detective on the hunt of a serial killer. I have no chance of catching my man (you know it’s a man) unless he strikes again. And with that being said, let’s hope this forever remains an unsolved mystery.

Be affraid. Be VERY affraid. Black pink, black pink, black pink.

A while back I was talking about some of the things that scared me when I was a little kid. I don’t think any of those things I mentioned still scare me now, except maybe the vacuum cleaner. Both Mutton and I still feel uneasy around that thing. But it could be worse.

Yes. It could be much, much worse.

But today I wanted to talk about some of the things that scare me now as an adult. Some people might think that as you grow older your irrational fears ebb. But I feel that as I’ve aged and gained a greater sense of the world and its revolting contents, my new found wisdom has only replaced my childhood fears with ones that are very real and very scary. Fears such as...

Flash mobs.

Have you ever seen interpretive dance?

If I was their parents upstairs I’d rather imagine they were down there having a round-robin HJ contest than this.

It’s awful. What makes it even worse is that the people that do it think it’s important, that it’s art and that it means something. It means about as much as the worst episode of Blosom and by that I mean it’s a horrible uncomfortable jheepsfest!

Jheeps off to ya!

But the good news is that we don’t have to watch this. How many of you stopped that video after about 30 seconds? I know I did. But these flash mob things could happen anywhere and at any time.



Could you imagine being caught in the middle of that?! Fuck! That would be the Jheeps equivalent of being publically gang raped. I really don’t think I could handle it. I think I’d just have to point myself in the direction of the nearest exit, close my eyes and just start running and swinging.

Being pushed in front of a subway train.

Don’t ask me why but I think about this nearly every time I’m waiting for a train.

I guess it’s because every city with a subway system seems to have a few stories about some crazy man that pushed people onto the tracks. And Toronto is no different. Normally when I wait for the train I stand near the wall. But if I do that during rush hour I’m never going to get on the train. So I have to stand there in a state of tensed up, cat-like readiness. Eyeing the people around me and trying to decide which one looks the craziest and vowing to myself that if I can’t stop him, than at least I’m going to take him down with me.

Yep, I’m gonna die.

But if there’s a flash mob on that platform… push away Nicholas. Push. Away.

Seeing homeless people masturbating/doing it.

Someone once said that the greatest fear is the fear of anticipation or the fear of the unknown.

WRONG!

I have had the misfortune of witnessing both of these events listed above and I never, ever wish to witness them again. The first such incident was back when I was in my teens and used to be into Graffiti. There used to be a roof top somewhere around Yonge & Bloor that a lot of people used to paint on. It was nicknamed AC Gardens because of all the air conditioners up there. One night we were going up there to check it out and we were faced with the eye bleaching sight of a homeless couple going at it on an old office chair. We couldn’t see much in the dark but it was more than enough. Sort of like a collection of rags and pale body parts. I’d liken it to when you’re shown a picture of an accident victim and at first you’re thinking, What is that? What am I looking at? And then it all comes into focus and it’s, Ohhhh. Oh god. Oh god no!

Welcome back ever body and if you’re just joining us, let me recap what you’ve missed. I’m getting it in!

And as for my other traumatizing experience…

It was a Saturday afternoon, late spring. A friend and I had just been at the Madison watching a soccer game. Since the weather was nice we decided to take a walk over to the Duke of Gloucester for some post-match libations. It was around College and Huron that tragedy struck. There was a phone booth  with a homeless man sitting in it. His legs splayed out onto the sidewalk. As I moved to side step them I heard a low, groaning giggle. I looked down and wished I never had. The munchkin was out and it was being thoroughly punched.

To this day I can’t walk through that area without feeling uneasy. Sometimes I wonder if the wanking hobo has passed on and that it is his ghost that now sends a shiver up my spine?

Wooooo! Black, pink, black, pink, black pink. Wooooooooo! Black, pink, black, pink, black pink.

Having a kid that’s into bad music.

I’ve always said that if I have kids, I’d like them to be free to grow up into what they want to be. But I think I’d have a really, really hard time if they grew up to be into bad music.

Now I don't think I could ever raise a Juggalo.

I'm pretty sure it takes some serious child abuse to wind up with something this retarded.

But what if he gets into new country? Or what if for some unexplainable reason Billy Joel gains a cult following among the youth of tomorrow?


If I have to hear this blaring out of my kid's room every day I may very well start a fire.

Or what if my son becomes one of those horrible generic gangster rap loving beater kids?!

File Photo: My personal hell.

Blasting his horrible rap music all day or his horrible R&B out of his phone. Buying cheap cigars and filling them full of cheap weed because Dr. Dre or someone mentioned it in a song 20 years ago. Telling everyone they're a bitch through his headset while he plays Call of Duty. Fuck!

And the pants thing.

And the stupid giant t-shirt thing.

And the Scarface.

The god damn fucking Scarface!

I just don't know if I could take that. And there's nothing you can do. They want you to object. You know what? I'd have to join him. I'd have to get my own baggy shit. My own stupid walk. And shame him into changing. It's the only way.

That's it. I'm going to look out my old Funk Doobiest CD right now. Good luck sleeping tonight adults. Woooooo. Black, pink black, pink.