Transubstantiation Relapse

The President of the online social-networking company Loomerang was arrested in Charlottesville, Virginia yesterday. Charles Bootiki, who is the head of the Palo Alto-based company, was charged with a DUI, destruction of private property, and disturbing the peace.


Bootiki was visiting family just outside of Charlottesville, after speaking at the UVA School of Business earlier in the week. Bootiki is a recovering alcoholic and has remained sober for 17 years.


He often speaks of his battle with alcoholism in his speeches to the media, public, and his employees. But things took a turn for the worst Sunday at Albermale Catholic Cathedral.



Father John O'Reilly recalls the incident. "I had just finished performing the transubstantiation and was performing communion. When I offered him the blood of Christ, he paused for a second, then took a sip from my chalice. I had moved on to about the fourth person from him, when he grabbed the chalice from my hand and started chugging it."



Apparently, Bootiki has not had a sip of wine for 17 years, the same amount of time he has not attended church. But when his sister convinced him to go, he was put at a crossroads when communion came about.



Charles' wife explains. "Chuck has worked so hard all this time. This was an isolated incident that I am sure will not happen again. I knew we should have never gone to church."



16-year old Paul Timlin was there. "After chugging the wine, the guy bolted out of church like a bat out of hell. He knocked down two little girls in the choir. The middle of the church was crowded, so he started hopping and diving over the pews, stepping on people. He got to the holy water thing over there, splashed water on his face and tuned around roared like a lion at everyone. This guy was a maniac!"



According to reports, Bootiki then got in his rental car and drove around looking for a liquor store. During his rampage, he rammed into 3 parked cars in various parts of the city. The state run ABC Liquor stores are closed in Virginia on Sunday. All stores sell wine and beer, including local gas stations, but apparently Bootiki must have been unaware of this fact.



He finally wound up at Mark's Tavern, a bar in a rural area 20 miles north of Charlottesville. Owner Bobby Grady tells us what happened. "This fella walks in and says, "Gimme all your scotch." I says, 'Sure, but sir, it's only 10:00 in the morning." "He says, "I know that! And he got this crazy look in his eye, and says"And I don't care!". He put $300 on the counter like it was nothing, so I gave him the whole bottle. He drank it in about 5 minutes. Then, he started crying and smashing those there pinball machines. I pulled out my shotgun and said, "Sir, those cost me more than $300. He scribbled a $20,000 check, put it on my counter, threw up in my doorway, and got in his car and drove off. I cashed that check this morning. I says to my wife, "Screw the pinball machines, we're going to Vegas!"



Bootiki didn't make it far in the mountainous region. His car drove off the side of Route 250 200 feet from Mark's Tavern and crashed into a ditch. He suffered minor injuries.



Today, Bootiki issued a statement. "To all my friends, family, and those I have hurt. I have battled long and hard with my alcoholism and I have let you all down. But the truth is that when that fucking devil of a priest offered me that chalice, I said "No thank you." Then he frowned and said, "But if you don't, then you'll go to hell along with your wife and kids." So, for the slight chance that there is a hell, I took a sip. That kicked in my demons and from there I was out of control."



O'Reilly, who was questioned about a molestation incident a few years back, denied the claim. "That's ridiculous. Perhaps, the constant sinister citizens of the Bay Area have overcome him and all those computers have gotten him delusional."



Bootiki is now in rehab and CFO Rita Fritas has taken over operations in the interim. Bootiki has a net worth of approximately $1.2 billion.



Prior to going into rehab, Bootiki vowed revenge against the Catholic Church and made some odd changes at his company. This included policy changes encouraging cursing and adultery to go on in his workplace. If any pregnancies result from the adultery, Bootiki himself said he will pay for the abortions.



He has also encouraged Homosexuals to apply for any open positions at his company. He guaranteed they would be moved to "the front of the line".



Bootiki has also changed the company's well-known emblem of 2 boomerangs intertwined to symbolize convergence. He has replaced it with a digitially altered photo of the Last Supper, where he has photo-imposed a picture of himself yanking the tablecloth off of the table Jesus is using.


Shares of Loomerang went up 13% in mid-day trading..

I'm not an Enabler!

By Cindy McTavish

My therapist tells me I am the enabler in the family and enable my husband to be an alcoholic and drug addict. She’s nuts. I lay the law down and get things my way. Why would I enable my husband to be an alcoholic? Is it the fact that he cheated on me 6 times? Is it the $4,000,000,000 life insurance policy he has? The prenup? Absolutely not. I love him. Wholly.

I went to my therapist to better myself, but then it got to be all about Todd. I had to mention he was an alcoholic and drug addict, right? She thinks because he has a long history of crushing up pills that it may have not been right for me to buy him a mortar and pestal on his birthday. I thought he enjoyed cooking and would use it to mix up spices and things!! How did I expect he would take it and mash up a bunch of OxyContin with it?

She also thinks that hanging neon beer signs in the bedroom isn’t too smart. What can I say? I’m old fashioned and it reminds me of my home back in New Jersey. There were bars everywhere. Oh the memories.

Just because he drinks, doesn’t mean I can’t. In fact, I think because he is the way he is I should be able to let off some steam. So, I have some drinks from time to time. And my back hurts so I just tend to leave the bottle of Goldschlager on the counter beside the fridge. It’s better than having to go in the cabinet to get it. And if I notice some missing, then it’s no big deal. It’s not that expensive.

She also says that symbols of drugs can cause him to relapse. Well, I mean, I didn’t know that putting our coffee creamer in individual baggies and tying them up real tight with a twisty tie looked like cocaine. I was trying to be nice. I even left straws beside them in case he wanted to drink his coffee without spilling it on his suit. I guess spilling the coffee wasn’t as bad as him driving to Newark to get an ounce of coke and disappearing to Atlantic City for 9 days. Because of coffee creamer! And I honestly was trying to help!!!

She also had something to say about my hobby. I took up wine collecting. I have a passion for wine. So, I renovated Todd’s gym into a wine cellar. Not all of it, he still works out there everyday, but I have about 1000 bottles of wine down there. I also decided to grow my own, so I turned our backyard into a small vineyard. Todd complains because he has to walk through the vineyard to get to his toolshed. To stop his complaining about it, I installed a fridge in is shed and a couch in case he gets tired from working out in the yard. And a TV.

And she even had the nerve to bring in my health condition into this. I received my first flu shot the other day. It was a pinnacle point in my life to better myself. So, I convinced the nurse to let me take the syringe home. I put it in a plaque and it’s displaying right there over the..

Oh, it’s gone. ..

Anyway, I don’t know what she is talking about. I am going to find a new therapist. Before I leave for my next appointment, I just have to take the brownies I made for Todd out of the oven.

It Ain't Easy Wearing Green

Vic sat in his living room picking at his fingernails in frustration. He was so close. He had nailed the interview. It was a lock. How could something so silly cost him his first job opportunity in 5 months. Being laid off was hurting Vic. He was a Financial Analyst at a bank that tanked and left him with 2 weeks severance.

He decided this was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. Vic raised up looked in his immaculate backyard. The area had made his work since being unemployed. Trimmed bushes lined along the property line, green rye grass throughout, it was his best landscaping yet. Not bad for a city boy he thought.

Vic turned and moped up the staircase into his exercise room. The house was outside of his means and he knew it. It was for sale for a year and he had 2 people look at it. Vic just couldn’t believe what happened to him today. He wanted to take action. He had enough of people taking advantage of him and disregarding the good intention of his actions.

From the closet, he withdrew a 14 gauge shotgun. Only used twice on a company hunting trip, Vic was a good shot. He sat and turned on some Jackson Browne to calm his nerves. As he tapped his foot, he inserted the shells into the gun. He wasn’t changing his outfit for this occasion. In fact, it was the reason in the first place.
He wrapped the gun in some bath towels and got into his Malibu. He put on NPR since it ws playing classical music this time of the day. Something he shamefully knew all too well. As Vic turned into the mall, he saw the sparse cars in the parking lot. Mostly workers. Sad, he thought. But that was just the way it was. He transferred the shotgun into a large suit bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the clothes hanger at the top and straddled it across his back. He figured he’d go in through the west entrance. Where the food court was. The noise would motivate him. As he walked through the doors, he held it for the woman and her kids behind him. She walked in untouched and didn’t even pass off a thank you.

Frustrated and angry, Vic sat down near the Sbarro. Sbarro, what a joke. He looked over at the illegal immigrants who might pass for Italian to someone with limited eyesight and rage began to build up. He decided to go the Fry Rye Dragon and get a special. 7 bucks for a plate of rice. Whatever, Vic thought. He sat down at a different table and reminisced about the day. He had nailed that interview. Damnit he thought. He was oblivious what was going on the whole time. Only when he saw his reflection in the elevator afterward did he see it. Embarrassing.

He threw his Styrofoam container in the trash and walked down the hall past the eateries. His senses were heightened. He smelled danishes, coffee, chicken, and hot dogs. He felt like he had entered another dimension. He turned left and walked toward the anchor store, Hechts. The sign became blurry as he stared at it and drew closer. At the entrance, he stopped for a moment and looked at all the perfume counters and smiled. As he proceeded through the zig zag of glass cases, he looked up and saw a sign that read Menswear. He followed the arrow and saw the person he was looking for. The guy who sold him his pants.

“Hey, David, is it?” Vic asked.

“Yes, sir. Oh I remember you. How did your interview go?”

“Not good. Actually, that’s why I am here.”

“Oh, too bad. Sorry to hear that. How did those brown pants treat you.”

Vic paused and looked down at his pants. You see the pants were the whole cause of the demise that occurred today.

“That green shirt looks good on you. Knew it would go well with the pants and tie.”
Vic looked up and was astonished at the guy’s comment. He stared at him with rage.
Vic looked back down at his pants, then his shirt.

True, the pants did look brown here in the store. You could not deny that. But, that didn’t matter. What matter is how they looked in the lighting in the interview room earlier today. There, these pants were green. Together with a light green shirt, he looked like a giant pea pod. He heard the secretaries snickering at him as he left.

“David, these pants are green.”

“Hahaha. That’s funny. They’re brown sir.”

“They’re green.”

“Brown.”

Vic unzipped his suit bad and drew the shotgun.

David became awestruck and pale instantly.

“You’re coming with me. I’m gonna show you.”

Vic pressed the barrel against David as they left the store together. It was amazingly easy to get out of the mall without anyone even being suspicious. They got in Vic’s car and headed to the office where Vic had the interview.

“Sir, maybe they didn’t care about the color of your pants. Maybe you’ll get the job.”

“Shut it. It’s over.” Vic punched David in the mouth. It felt good to Vic. He wanted to do that to someone for a long time. Mainly, his old boss, but this guy would do.
They entered the parking garage and got past the security attendant. He still had his parking pass from earlier in the day.

He parked in space 158 and the two of them entered the building via the stairwell. The echo of their footsteps was eerie to Vic. It was as if he was entering the end.
They go to the main floor and signed in. Vic had his suit bag and no one asked any question. They entered the elevator and a woman entered and pressed Floor 12. That’s where they needed to go. They exited the elevator and Vic pointed to his pants.

“See?”

“Yes, they are green. Full refund. Buy one get one.”

“Too late man. Let’s go.”

Vic walked down the hall and entered the interview room. There was another candidate in there. Vic looked at him in his beautiful suit. Perfectly matched and well groomed. Vic in an furious fit began to unzip his bag. In walked Charlie Powell, the hiring manager.

“Vic. What are you doing here. Actually, I am glad you came. Can I see yo for a minute?”

Surprised, Vic replied, “Sure.”

The two left the room. Vic could see David pleading his case to the other candidate waving his hands in the air and making a gesture with a gun. The candidate looked like he believed him and got up.

Charlie noticed what was going on and became distracted from what he was going to tell Vic.

The candidate stood up and exited the interview room.

“Mr. Powell. This guy is a killer. He came here to kill us all because of the color of his pants.”

“That’s absurd. Don’t try to downgrade another candidate. That’s unprofessional.”

“But Mr. Powell, I am serious.”

“Get out of my office right now. And you too. Is this guy with you Vic?”

“No. He jut got off the elevator with me. No idea who he is.”

David looked at Vic as if he was totally insane and ran off.

“Well Vic, I was going to tell you that this guy in here was going to be our man. But since he just flaked out, I guess you’re our man. I had you as the #2 candidate and it looks like you moved up to #1.”

“Oh, Mr. Powell, I can’t thank you enough.”

“By the way, what’s in the bag?”

“Oh, a pair of brown pants I was supposed to wear today but they got stuck at the cleaners.”

“Glad to hear. I knew there was a reason you were dressed like Guido. See you Monday”

“Thanks!”

Vic got in the elevator and threw the gun atop the elevator shaft. He exited the elevator to see David and a security guard waiting for him.

“He has a gun in that bag!”

“Open the bag sir.”

Vic unzipped the bag and it was an empty hanger.

The security guard looked at David, “Sir, what kind of demented clothes salesman are you?”