Were you upset by the breakup of the Beatles? So was Ringo. The Fab Four drummer said that after the group broke up, he turned into one boozy ex-Beatle. “I was drunk,” he said. “Some of those years are absolutely gone. I was mad.” Paul McCartney noted, “I know what Ringo went through ‘cause me self and John were drunk too–when we were in the Beatles. After the band broke up, I never touched a drop of booze, then I made a phone call. I told Pete Best, ‘I was drunk. Some of those years are absolutely gone. I was mad. If I was sober, you would’ve been our drummer and not Ringo.” An embarrassed Ringo then added, “Unfortunately, I now have an even worse drinking habit—caused when I finally heard the rubbish I put out as a drunken solo artist.”
Former New England Patriots star Aaron Hernandez was found guilty of first-degree murder in a deadly late-night shooting, sealing the downfall of an athlete who once had a $40 million contract. When the verdict was read by the jury forewoman, a dim Mr. Hernandez asked his lawyer, “Does ‘guilty’ mean I go to jail?” His bemused attorney answered, “Let me put it this way, genius. Have you ever seen the show ‘Orange is the New Black?’” An irate Hernandez snapped back, “I don’t care if the Denver Broncos are changing their uniform’s color. Do I or do not go to jail?” When later asked how he’d deal with being in prison for the rest of his life, Mr. Hernandez replied, “Prison’s just another football game to me. The only difference is that in prison, I’ll never hold a guy, get in a four point stance or take out my mouth guard.” When Mr. Hernandez saw a video camera being installed in his prison cell, he put down the book he was reading and asked, “What’s that for? To make sure I don’t commit suicide?” The camera installer answered, “Nope. Coach Belichick wants to make sure you don’t trade the Patriots’ playbook you’re reading for cigarettes.”
Doug Hughes, 61, a Florida mailman, caused a major security scare when he landed his gyro-copter on the US Capitol lawn just seconds from being shot out of the sky. When asked what he was doing landing a helicopter in DC, he said, “I’m the permanent, on-call pilot for a Representative from Massachusetts. For some reason, this Joe Kennedy III fella is a little leery about being driven in a car. Golly, what ‘bad’ could possibly happen to a Kennedy in a car?”
Famed chef Homaro Cantu, whose creative blending of science and fine dining garnered international attention for his Chicago Loop restaurant Moto, was found dead. The 38-year-old chef appeared to die of hanging. Along with his suicide note, Mr. Cantu also left specific instructions on how his body should be prepared:
Wash and prepare; removing all traces of formaldehyde.
Preheat gas crematorium oven to 1,000 degrees.
Bake for fifteen minutes or until the skin is crisp and body is burnt.
Garnish with seaweed.
Marinate then sprinkle liberally in Lake Michigan.
President candidate Hillary Clinton is paying the price—from eating at a “Chipotle Restaurant” in Maumee, Ohio. After a bowl of beef chili and cheese and three chicken burritos were devoured, she complained it caused “severe diarrhea and nausea. The pain was so bad, I had to replace that Secret Service agent and hire another one to sample my food before I ate it. Thank God that last agent took the ‘burrito bullet’ for me.”
NBA Hall of Fame center Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is resting comfortably after undergoing quadruple coronary bypass. When asked what caused his weakened heart, he explained, “It was due to a movie role I took. To get into the character, I ate bad airline food for year. Then, last month, this fifty year old guy comes up to me on the street and says, “Wait a minute. I know you. You’re Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. You played basketball for the Los Angeles Lakers!’ I denied I was me just to get him out of my face, but then he goes, ‘You are Kareem! I’ve seen you play. My dad’s got season tickets. I think you’re the greatest, but my dad says you don’t work hard enough on defense. And that you don’t really try… except during the playoffs.’ I got so pissed off I grabbed him by the shirt and said, ‘I’ve been hearing that crap ever since I was at UCLA. I’m out there busting my buns every night. Tell your old man to drag Walton and Lanier up and down the court for 48 minutes.’ I then felt my heart give out—which led to my operation. God, I hate ‘basketball fans!’”