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   A local rapper and Internet prankster who filmed himself and some cohorts trashing a Gold Coast 7-Eleven on New Year’s Day is now facing charges for the damage they caused.

   Delvon Irving, also known as VonMar, appeared in court Friday, where he faced charges of felony retail theft and misdemeanor damage property.

   Assistant State’s Attorney Erin Antonietti told Judge Adam Bourgeois Irving posted a video of the 7-Eleven prank – in which he and another man leapt upon a rack of merchandise and went behind the counter, attempting to use a cash register, before fleeing with a coffee urn – on YouTube. He also posted two additional videos of himself in taxis, which helped police find him, she said.

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Justin Beiber threatened legal action against breatheheavy.com for posting this gif that sugguests he is not as big as his Calvin Kline advertisment makes him look, claiming this insinuation by Breathheavy is damaging "his brand."

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By George Takei on June 15, 2013
Brad and I will be Grand Marshals at this year's San Diego Pride Parade, and we were looking for just the right touch to add a bit of pizazz to our appearance. So when we stumbled across the PASSION NATURAL WATER BASED LUBRICANT - 55 GALLON drum, we felt we'd struck gold: "Just enough volume to soak an entire parade of spectators, and yet fits easily in our float." Double win.

Now, how to spray the lube on the excited on-lookers? Why, by water pump gun, of course. To test out our delivery mechanism, we purchased a drum for our back yard and set up a slip and slide. I had Brad charge toward me down the slide, and I fired at will. It helped to imagine he was a Klingon Bird of Prey: Target that explosion and FIRE.

What I didn't expect was that Brad's forward momentum would cause him to crash into me, upending the entire drum along with us. Utter chaos. Our unfortunate cats, who had come out to judge our activities as cats will, were caught in the deluge. Looking like drowned rats, they howled and sped around the yard in hysterical circles, then tried for ten minutes to climb a tree.

Once again, the neighbors thought we'd set something on fire, so the LAFD arrived shortly afterwards. Try explaining any of this to a stranger, especially a hunky one in uniform. "Hose me down?" I offered. He kindly did, then retrieved our cats out of the tree with only minor scratches to the face. (They still aren't speaking to us, by the way.)

Bottom line, we decided against soaking the Pride Parade revelers lest it create an "incident" that could upstage us entirely. But we do have a great new weekend fun activity.

By Jerome Albertson on October 12, 2011
I knew getting back in the "dating game" would be a challenge after being out of it for over 5 years. When I was released from Joliet, I had to learn all the new things "the dating crowd" was trying. I knew about scented candles and Luther Vandross CDs, and sure was glad to hear people still use them. But I had no idea that "lube" was so popular with the "romantics" out there. All it took was one stroll through the Walgreens personal hygiene aisle to prove I had to learn a new thing.

"Where to start?", I wondered. I wanted something simple. However, all I saw in the stores were lubricants that were flavored with cinnamon and paprika, or designed to somehow "heat" your private parts. No way, Jose! (I experienced the "heat" thing personally once after an adventurous incident with a toaster. I'll stick with "room temperature" from now on, thank you very much.)

Luckily, I found a plain, old-fashioned lubricant that would not make me smell like a dessert topping. And it came in this HUGE tub! No more awkward late-night Walgreens runs for me, once I could get my hands on this lubricant bin. Now, I admit the price tag was kinda hefty. But after selling the ol' Pontiac Sunfire and borrowing some cash from Aunt Gladys, I was "ready to place my order."

The product only took a week to arrive, and got to my apartment just in time for my first real "date" since the gas station incident. You can bet I was nervous for this one. When I got off the bus to meet Carla in front of the Chili's, I just about had a heart attack! The only thing keeping me calm was knowing that I could not possibly run out of lube that night. I gave Carla a reassuring nod and smile, as if to say "Don't worry, Carla, I have plenty of lubricant for later."

The dinner was great, and after knocking back a couple Mojo Mango Margaritas, we were ready to head back to my apartment. I winked and told Carla, "Let's SLIP on out of here," to see if she understood the lubricant lingo. I think she did. Throughout the bus ride back, I grinned and hummed Luther Vandross tunes to set the mood.

When we got to my place, I already had a candle burning. It was by "Glade", which I think you pronounce like the singer Sade, because it is an exotic candle that smells just like real pine. After we got comfortable, I asked Carla if she could help me with the lube. She looked at me weird, and I couldn't tell if it was because she thought it was "too soon" or because I was pushing a mechanical lift to get the drum barrel out of the storage closet.

So I "took the initiative", as women like men to do, and rolled the barrel out into the living room. "Ready to tap the keg?" I joked, and by "keg" I meant "55-gallon barrel of personal lubricant." She looked at me all shocked, and said "That's it, I'm out of here!" I asked why, since she didn't need to run to Walgreens for more lubricant - there was plenty right here. But she didn't answer, and got up to leave anyway. Then, as Carla was about to pass me and the barrel, she tripped on my dog Poochie and fell right into the lube barrel! The force of the impact downed the barrel and knocked its lid off, sending 55 gallons of water-based lubricant across my faux-hardwood floors.

Carla was completely drenched, and her momentum slid her to the front door - which she somehow managed to pry open with a pair of oven mitts. The last thing I knew, "No-Fun Carla" was screaming profanities and sliding down three flights of steps. I didn't pay much attention because I was too busy trying to salvage the lube. I managed to get about half of it back into the barrel - the other half probably seeped into Mrs. Pulaski's unit below me. I never bothered to ask if she appreciated the free gift of lubricant.

Anyway, despite my "user error", I was quite pleased with the product. These days it's hard to find 55 gallons of scent-free water-based lubricant, and you can find it right here at a discount rate! I had to give it only "4 Stars" because it didn't come with a lifting apparatus. I had to buy my own mechanical lift separately to haul the bin to my future "dates". So if you're ready for fun, "slide" on down to a high quality product at a bargain price!

By James O. Thach TOP 1000 REVIEWER on February 27, 2014
I'm a risk analyst for a major insurance firm, so when my wife and I were planning a birthday party for our seven-year-old, Crispin, my mind naturally turned to liabilities. We'd settled on the theme of a "backyard carnival", complete with a swing set, a trampoline, merry-go-round, and a giant Slip `n Slide. So I carefully inspected the equipment for safety. It all seemed sound.

We have a home on a bluff overlooking the ocean. As it happened, on the day of the party our neighbors were trimming their fichus trees. We heard the sound of their wood chipper buzzing occasionally from the other side of our tall hedge. It was a little irritating, but not disruptive.

The party started off wonderfully. A clown we'd hired made balloon animals, Crispin eagerly opened his presents, and all the children enjoyed cake and fruit punch. The weather was mild, the skies clear. It seemed a perfect day.

Then we brought out the Slip `n Slide.

The problem with water slides is what we in the trade call "distributed water deficiency zones", or in layman's terms, dry spots. If a child hits one of these, it can put the brakes on the fun, and send them sliding down a path of medical claims--contusions, concussions, lacerations, abrasions, whiplash, back rash, and disc impaction. And that's just for starters. From there, it's a slippery slope toward major litigation.

To avoid even the remote possibility of such injuries, I invested in this 55 gallon drum of water soluble personal lubricant--the idea being that the children could enjoy the slide in complete safety, then wash off in the hose before their parents came to retrieve them. With that in mind, I dipped each child into the vat before allowing them to cue up for the slide.

The Slip `n Slide itself performed admirably, as did the lubricant. That, in fact, was the problem. Due to the slight downhill gradient of our yard, the children built up so much speed that they skidded across the lawn and into a retaining wall at the other end of our property, with sufficient force that I had to put an end to the activity.

I endeavored to roll up the mat--no easy task, as the lawn surrounding the slide was itself now lubricated, and I struggled to maintain my footing. When I looked up from my labor, I grasped for the first time the scope of the liabilities I had unleashed--a horde of extremely well-lubricated seven-year-olds, hyped up on sugar and desperate for fun.

I saw young Eliza Gimmelman climb onto the trampoline. She began jumping, but the pad soon became so slick that she lost all control. Her wild flailing unfortunately fell into harmonic synchronization with the motion of the springs, propelling her ever higher, until she soared above the trampoline's safety enclosure, over the hedge and into the neighbor's yard. There came a ghastly grinding sound, and I could tell from the crimson plume that followed, it would be a total loss.

Twins Jeremy and Mason Lafferty were on the swing set. Having attained the swings' full range of motion, they were apparently having difficulty holding on. At that point, the swings became human catapults. Mason separated on the backswing, arcing over the roof of our home toward the street beyond. I surmised from the screeching tires, car horns and screams of horror that he was also unrecoverable. A terrified Jeremy soon lost his grip as well, sailing forward over the bluff, and plummeting 300 feet down into the ice-cold, shark-infested waters of the San Francisco Bay. An open claim, but not promising.

The rest of the children were clinging to the merry-go-round. Having just witnessed the violent deaths of at least two of their playmates, they were no longer in the mood for fun. However, the lubricant had dripped from their glistening bodies into the central cog, allowing it to spin far faster than it was designed to, and this, likely combined with other factors--their relative weight distribution, the slight incline of the ground--caused their motion to become self-sustaining, and the centrifugal force built upon itself until they became a blurry, screaming disk of human suffering. Then they began to fly off like cannon balls.

Martin Duckworth was the first to go, causing significant structural damage to our greenhouse. Lisa Aurelio shattered a line of ceramic garden gnomes, and Ethan Green slammed into our Audi Q7 so hard it had to be written off--as, tragically, did he. Several other children left what looked like gingerbread man indentations in the siding of our home. It was terrifying.

When the wheel finally came to a stop, there was only one child aboard. As luck would have it, it was our own beloved Crispin, huddled in the center of the merry-go-round, weeping. My wife ran to him and hugged him with all the might of a relieved, traumatized parent. A little too hard, as it turned out. Lubricated as he was, he shot from her arms like a wet bar of soap, up fifteen feet in the air, landed on the trampoline, and then soared, in a half-gainer, over the hedge, into the wood chipper.

Since then, I've asked myself a thousand times, is there anything I could have done differently? But in the end, no actuary table could have predicted this bloodbath. I can only conclude that this was an act of God. And that, to me, is truly terrifying. Because we're not covered for that.

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Don't go to the cops, I'm your son!!

http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=cf3_1420893424