Dumbasses of the latter 16th century;Englisher Edition

Ha'pint has been gone for three days now, and in honor of such, I dedicate this post to her noble sacrifice on the altar of good family relations. Some people have orgies or write a post-card. Ha'pint is hard-core. She's locking herself with them, Steve Irwin style, in a monkey-freaking cabin in NEW YORK. Where no one will ever hear her screams, except for the people making her scream, of course. Excelsior, Ha'pint!


Next up in our engaging series on stupid fuckers of the latter Tudor period, I present for your approval the "English Edition." Same great flavor of the "Scottish Edition" with half the sodomy.



The Cloptons of Clopton were pretty much fucked from the moment they thought of naming themselves the "Cloptons of Clopton." But Fate wasn't quite through with them yet. The Cloptons have the dubious distinction of providing the inspiration for "Romeo and Juliet" a relatively unknown play by William Shakespeare. And just what was it about the Cloptons of Clopton that caught the attention of the Noble bard? Was it because of a looooove match between two warring families? No. Was it due to a tragic double-suicide between star-crossed teenagers? No again.

It was because they accidentally buried their daughter alive.
But it was an accident!

See, their kid (lets call her "McKayla") caught the plague, and times being what they were, the touching death-bed farewell was more like an abbreviated three-stooges skit with assorted parties getting knocked down, picked up by their noses and knocked down again. Buckets of water were possibly thrown and a priest or two may have been called. After what we can safely assume was a lack-luster administration of the Last Rites, she was pronounced "out of the office indefinitely." They buried the girl in "indecent haste" in the family crypt, presumably keeping the door cracked for future use. (C'mon... we got this plague on! Shit was brutal!) Upon re-entering the crypt some days later when they went to throw in another cord or two of Clopton hash, some looky-loo who was obviously not around the day they decided McKayla was dead, noticed that something was 'different'. It was quickly discovered that in the ensuing week or so, she had gotten up, walked to a wall, sat down, and died with a bit more gusto than the first effort.

But not before biting "a tender piece of meat" out of her own fucking shoulder. (A girl's gotta keep a little air of mystery and intrigue about her.)

Some generations later, proving that the 'Stoopid Gene' can't be simply waited out, the same family produced another ill-fated chit, this one named Margheretta. She apparently became distraught when Mumsey and Dadsey wouldn't let her 'consort' with (give blow jobs, sticky Hitlers, dirty Sanchezes, cowtails, pink sleeves, flying horse-pies, angry coppers, brick slaps, ring-tosses, sock salads or juicy fruit shuffles to) her boyfriend. After carefully considering all of her options, she flung herself into the family well, where her bloated corpse remained for years because conditions were "too wet" to fish it out. (That would be a contemporary account of the circumstances the good Cloptons faced. "Too Wet." Really.)

And don't think for a second that they weren't still drinking that water. These were the Elizabethans, fuckers. They did whatever the hell they wanted.


Have a little something to cleanse the palate:

A few random Laws of Spurious Virtue from New York's past and present:
* Pinball machines are not to be played on Sunday. (Ocean City)
* During a concert, it is illegal to eat peanuts and walk backwards on the sidewalks. (Greene)
* New Yorkers cannot dissolve a marriage for irreconcilable differences, unless they both agree to it. (State Law)
* It is illegal to disrobe in a wagon. (Sag Harbor)
* It is illegal for a father to call his son a “faggot” or “queer” in an effort to curb “girlie behavior. (Staten Island...and I can assure the Statenites that this is really a futile effort. When you've got more than 3 kinds of "Broadway" in your state, the boys is gonna be fruity.)
* You may only water your lawn if the hose is held in your hand. (Also Staten Island, and I hope completely unrelated to the one above.)