Bits & Bobs For Shits & Giggles: Spitzer, Team Coffins, & The Fuhrer

Spitzer Takes Manhattan: So, what has disgraced former New York Governor Elliot Spitzer been up to, you ask? After spending the better part of nine months under a rock of shame, Mr. “I Like To Wear Dress Socks While I Bang” made his first public appearance last night at Slate Magazine’s holiday party. In case you haven’t heard, Spitzer picked up a freelance writing gig with the online magazine – sadly, the column isn’t a Zagat Survey for high-end hookers, instead it focuses on the financial industry and our economy (check out this link for his first article: http://www.slate.com/id/2205995/). Slate’s party was held at a chic new bar in Chinatown, which ironically used to be a massage parlor named “Happy Endings” – not the ideal venue for a Spitzer comeback, but hilarious nevertheless. As you might expect, journalists flocked to the former Gov, and one Financial Times reporter asked him how he was enjoying his new career, to which he replied, “It sucks. I used to be the governor of New York.” At least Spitzer’s got a sense of humor.


Fandom To The Grave: Diehard baseball fans can now take their favorite team to the grave with them. In an unprecedented merchandising ruse, Major League Baseball has authorized the use of team logos on a line of funeral caskets for people who want to carry their fandom unto eternity. The cream-colored, 18-gauge steel caskets, which are embossed with your team’s logo on the opening lid and head pillow, are going for a cool $5,000. Yankees and Mets models went on sale earlier this week at a Long Island funeral home. The Yanks sarcophagus comes replete with pinstripes, while the Mets casket features blue and orange handles. The first such coffin was sold to a Mets fan who prepaid for it, saying it was only appropriate because “they’re going to drive me to my grave." God bless capitalism, eh?


The Fuhrer Re-Born?: Oh, the depths of New Jerseyans’ scummy classlessness know no bounds. It has recently come to light that a Jersey couple, Heath and Deborah Campbell, have a three-year-old son whom they named Adolf Hitler Campbell. I’m sure it comes as no shock that the couple are self-described “Nazi fans,” whatever the fuck that means. So why after three years has this heinous naming decision come to light? Apparently, Deborah was trying to get an inscribed birthday cake at ShopRite for the mini-Fuhrer, but a supervisor at the store denied the request. The Campbells eventually got the cake inscribed at Wal-Mart -- where any chance to make a buck is met with open arms. And so, little Adolf had his cake and ate it too. When asked why he would name his son after the failed-artist-turned-ruthless-dictator, Heath said he liked the name because “no one else in the world would have [it].” No joke, the Campbells also have a daughter named JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell.