A man in British Columbia is currently subject to an arrest warrant after allegedly visiting seventeen banks, with rolls of toonies. Except they weren’t toonies. The rolls instead had a toonie on the outside edges, and a toonie-sized series of washers in between. In total, this individual was able to (allegedly) make off with over $30,000 in stolen cash.
This isn’t exactly a sophisticated scam. And it was entirely avoidable on the part of the banks: all the tellers needed to do was open up the roll of “toonies” and check that they were, in fact, toonies. I mean, is this how banks operate? When someone hands a bank a stack of $100 bills, they don’t just take their word for it that there aren’t a bunch of $20s in the middle. The money gets counted. Why did this not happen with the toonies? And how are these not the real questions we are all asking here…
If this case proceeds to trial, someone should call me to cross-examine the tellers because this is just ridonk.
Someone should have told that to Nikki Dickinson’s son. Because he got a tattoo I am certain he is now regretting. But this isn’t the typical “teddy bear around your nipple” dumb tattoo. Oh no, this is not about what, but whom. You see, Nikki allowed her ten-year-old son to get a tattoo.
When I was ten, I was really really into these Redwall books. I probably would have gotten a tattoo of Martin the Warrior, and now I’d be totally regretting… oh wait, no, that would still be pretty sweet. Some badass mouse with a sword fearlessly running into battle to save Redwall abbey from the stoats and weasels. But I digress. Children are not generally capable of making good decisions about what to have tattooed on their bodies.
Or, in this case, who to let do the tattooing. Because in Nikki Dickinson’s case, she allowed the tattoo to be inked by a sixteen-year-old who was not licensed. And it was done in her freakin’ living room. She is currently facing child endangerment charges, while the artist is being held in a juvenile detention centre.
Talk about a regrettable tattoo decision.
There is a reason I stopped living with roommates long ago. And that reason was exactly what happened in this case. In Iowa, a man stabbed his brother in the stomach. You are probably wondering why. And the answer is simple: he wanted to know whether his brother ate the last of his leftover ribs.
Can you imagine how this went down? “No I didn’t.” “Yes, you did!” Followed by an attempted recreation of the scene from Jaws in which they discover it wasn’t the right shark?
If convicted of the offence, the alleged stabber faces up to twelve years in jail. That’s a long time without any ribs.
