“Tick-tock on the clock, but the party don’t stop,” to quote the Bard (and by “Bard,” I, of course, mean Ke$ha).¹ It’s time for another Facepalm!
How about we start with the greatest bender had at someone else’s expense since Fyre Festival. California attorney and amateur Kardashian impersonator Sara King is accused of scamming $10.3 million from her client, off-shore lending company LDR International Ltd. LDR claims King duped them out of 97 loans by saying the funds were going to high-rolling third-party borrowers. Instead, King was using the millions to fund her extravagant lifestyle. She moved into the Wynn Las Vegas Resort for 6 months and partied, binged, and gambled “24/7.” Once this scheme came tumbling down, as schemes do, King’s husband filed for divorce, claiming he was as much a victim of theft and humiliation as anyone else. He has since fled to Morocco (the obvious thing for a victim to do). According to a Wynn Resort spokesman, King is no longer allowed on casino property (she doesn’t have any more money, ya dig?). Since her downfall, King has submitted some heartbreaking evidence to the court in the form of screenshots of her current bank balance—$11.98. Personally, I’m thinking of starting a GoFundMe on her behalf.
Next we turn to some fiery litigation involving the Fireball whiskey brand. If you were never hospitalized during Pledge Week as an undergrad, then you may never have tried Fireball whiskey. Imagine stuffing a sack of Swedish Fish full of Red Hots and dissolving them all in lighter fluid, and you’re close to a shot of Fireball. Apparently, Fireball’s producer, The Sazerac Company, was less than forthright in their marketing of Fireball Cinnamon 3.4oz bottles. They failed to mention that, despite a nearly identical label and taste to their large-size, the mini bottles contain no whiskey whatsoever. They are, in fact tiny “malt beverages” with “Natural Whisky & Other Flavors.” Clearly, this misleading label tricked many whiskey connoisseurs who would never stoop to the classless inelegance of malt liquor when they expected the genteel sophistication of Fireball.
Lastly, like any good party, let’s end it with a buzzkill. DC resident Josefa Ippolito-Shepherd has filed suit against her neighbor for assaulting her in her home with the skunky smell of marijuana. Apparently, the neighbor has a medicinal marijuana card, but the dankness is constantly wafting into Ippolito-Shepherd’s apartment, which she describes as a “public nuisance.” Just a few years ago, Ippolito-Shepherd could have simply narced and had the neighbor arrested. But now, according to the DC Council Chair (to whom, among many others, she complained), the only thing to be done would be to “undo the legalization of marijuana” (good luck with that). As the case moves to trial, the neighbors have engaged in some blazing verbal exchanges and accusations of lying, with the judge having to intervene repeatedly. “I understand emotions are high,” she said. The judge! The judge said that!! Seriously!!
And with that, it’s time for our Facepalm party to end, and our Facepalm hangover to begin.