World's greatest drunk!...

You see, there's this dude who lives in Lexington, Kentucky. His name is Henry Earl. He also goes by the name "James Brown" and likes to drink alcohol. And he's been busted more than 900 times in the last 13 years because of his "hobby." According to one web site, Henry's spent roughly twice as much of his soggy life in jail as opposed to out.

The legend of Henry Earl grows. He's even been featured on Newsweek and MSNBC. You can write Henry Earl at:

Detention Center : Henry Earl #337
600 Old Frankfort Circle
Lexington , KY 40510

Tell him hamptons ad-nauseam sent ya!

This Just In...from a Local Reader-Homeless In The Hamptons

The era before "Snow" was Crazy George. He used to ride his bike around Bridgehampton village and get shooted up (if you know what I mean) and then start talking all kinds of trash. The drama usually ended up with him being hauled off to the Whoscow for public intoxication. Yet he was on the same street and in the same shape as James Jones, Willy Morris and Truman Capote, who were all notoriously heavy drinkers and usually ended up at Bobby Van's until the wee hours of the morning and dare I say so myself as well. Just the local drama in the Hamptons. Times were a bit different back in the day....Weren't they PB!

What Ever Happened To The Homeless In The Hamptons?

Where did they all go? We used to have a very interesting cast of homeless or at the very least "semi-homeless" characters roaming the streets here in the "Beautiful Hamptons..." The first and most memorable Hamptons Hobo I can recall was "Snow." That was what every one in Bridgehampton called him. He was an old Black man who used to walk the streets of the east end, but mainly he hung around in Bridgehampton. His modus operandi was to get a good buzz going by drinking cheap wine like "Maddog 20/20" and as he got drunk he would start hollering at people as they walked by his usual haunts. For the most part he was harmless and all he would do was mumble to himself. The one recollection I have of Snow getting out of hand it must have been about 1977-78. I was riding my bike into town with a friend and Snow was walking on the other side of the street in the opposite direction and for no apparent reason he threw his walking stick at us! You might have thought that his walking stick was a damn boomer-rang the way that thing came flying right at us! He must thrown it at least 100+ feet to where we were on our bikes. If we hadn't ducked his stick would have hit us both!
So the next time you see a homeless person just keep in mind; sometimes no matter how inebriated they may be they may still have a little fight left in'em and to keep your eyes and ears open as they may have a secret talent that only shows itself when the conditions are just right!

Living on Hess Food: Day Two

After eating an Angus burger at the McDonald's in Southampton, NY, I slept like a baby and vowed to jump start my experiment to eat only Hess food for the remainder of the week. That is, until the news broke the other day that our horny/drug-crazed government officials responsible for collecting billions of dollars in federal oil royalty revenues had created a "culture of substance abuse and promiscuity" that involved having sex with energy company employees, accepting lavish gifts and rigging contracts to favored firms.

I immediately drove back home and e-mailed my admittedly thin resume to the Denver Minerals Management Services office, anxiously hoping for a job interview, sex and drugs, not necessarily in that order. The only thing missing was the "rock & roll."

"Screw eating Hess food for the week," I thought to myself. "I'll buy some cans of motor oil from them and rub it all over my body like cologne and soon I'd be pumping away like a well-oiled Sarah Palin .338 Win Mag." With all the national debate swirling around the pros and cons of offshore drilling, the allure of onshore drilling was proving difficult to resist.

Next: Day Three of the Wainscott Hess Oil Cologne Experiment Ends Tragically When the Author flirts with Self-Immolation...

Living on Hess Food: Day One

The Hess station at 346 Montauk Highway in Wainscott, NY is my refuge, a sanctuary from the mad hustle and bustle of the choked roads and beaches seen on a typical Hamptons summer day. Local lore has it that one desperate female city resident recently begged a Hess attendant to borrow a $2.29 bottle opener to pry the lid off the beer in her car and vowed to return it only to receive this full-service reply from her all-too-concerned attendant: ”Sorry, lady, then the bottle opener would be used and I couldn’t sell it.”

My car and I draw sustenance from Hess. The ever-present long lines inside filled with swaggering up-island workers, anxious immigrants and nervous local kids trying to buy cigarettes or beer with fake IDs stand in sharp contrast to the smug self confidence of the proud high and mighty that line up at the General Store in Sagaponack, NY. In keeping with my distinctly lower middle class values (and because I'm dead broke), I decided to conduct a medical experiment along the lines of the hit movie "Supersize Me." I would eat only Hess food for one week and document my body's changes.

DAY ONE: Chose the egg, bacon and cheese biscuit sandwich for breakfast. Despite numerous attempts to microwave it, the sandwich stubbornly refused to heat up and tasted like a flaky hockey puck. For lunch, I ate two overdone hot dogs that caused immediate heartburn and cessation of all feeling from below my waist. (This noble experiment was going to be tough on my marriage I mused.) Dinner choices were limited to a six-pack of Corona beer or the last lonely microwavable bacon cheeseburger that looked and tasted eerily similar to the aforementioned egg, bacon and cheese biscuit sandwich.

I asked the young female Russian attendant if Hess offered any salads and she replied, "We're not a restaurant, sir. We're a gas station." With the hot dogs from lunch still burning a hole in my gut, I conceded her point.

My next decision was a no-brainer. Despite the considerable risks to my nascent study's reliability and validity, I would eat healthy. I would drive to the McDonald's in Southampton, NY and order an Angus and continue my Hess food experiment tomorrow.

Next: Day Two of the Wainscott Hess Food Diet Causes the Author to Experience Acute Paranoid Schizophrenia 

BONACKERS PETITION FEDERAL COURT TO JOIN SHINNECOCK NATION

Today in federal court a petition was submitted on behalf of the United Bonackers of East Hampton (U.B.E.H.) to join the Shinnecock Indian tribe's quest for federal recognition as an indigenous people to the U.S. Their ultimate aim is to open a casino/theme park with a clam digging theme at the Atlantic Avenue beach in Amagansett, NY which the Bonackers consider their ancestral homeland.

The bubbies’ unique cultural heritage features alcoholism, knowledge of local waterways, a penchant for eating raw clams and consuming large quantities of tobacco which is in keeping with Shinnecock folklore.

Speaking with UBEH spokesman Josiah McCullum, who extolled the virtues of the Bonac way of life, he mumbled, "By Jesus bub... don't know why we didn't figa this angle out a laawng time ago.”

The Bonac way of life has been on a serious decline since the mid-1980's when the New York State's Department of Environmental Conservation (D.E.C.) began curtailing the quantity of stripped bass and shell fish they could harvest per year and that in turn destroyed their livelihood. In addition, foreign fish imports and the beach mansions of the elite are factors behind their near tragic extinction. Now this small, threatened tribe is struggling to preserve its unique native language and customs against an onslaught of environmental regulations and new laws that limit beach access.

So the next time you see a pick-up truck with a wooden flat-bed on the back parked at an East End beach, offer the lonesome warrior a beer and light his cigarette for him as he is only paying homage to the warriors who have gone before him.

Police are warning all men.... You just can't make this stuff up!

Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties and local pubs to be
alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman.Many females
use a date rape drug on the market called "Beer."The drug is found in liquid
form and is avail able anywhere. It comes inbottles, cans, or from taps and
in large "kegs". Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars
to persuade their male victims to go home and sleep with them.
A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a fewunits of Beer and then
simply ask him home for no strings attached sex. Men are rendered
helpless against this approach. After several beers, men will often succumb
to the desires to sleep with horrific looking women to whom they would
never normally be attracted.After drinking beer, men often awaken with
only hazy memories of exactlywhat happened to them the night before,
often with just a vague feeling that"something bad"occurred. At other times
these unfortunate men are swindled out of their life's savings, in a familiar
scam known as "a relationship."
In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the
unsuspecting male into a longer term form of servitude and punishment
referred to as "marriage." Men are much more susceptible to this scam after
beer is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females.
Please! Forward this warning to every male you know. If you fall victim to
this "Beer" scam and the women administering it, there are male support
groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with
similarly victimized men. For the support group nearest you, just look up
Golf Courses" in the phone book.