The Sacramento Chronicle

Perverts line up for season’s hottest strap-on

SACRAMENTO — Frankie Dertmuller, assistant shift supervisor of Goldie’s Adult Boutique, spent his Saturday morning restocking shelves, hanging dildos and penis pumps with care. But he says doesn’t bother even hanging up the Christmas season’s hottest gift for the depraved, a 2 foot long strap-on device called ‘The Widowmaker.’

“Oh, we just leave those in a box by the door — them motherfuckers are going fast,” he said, with a twinkle in the eye not covered by his surgical dressing.

The Widowmaker is on every pervert’s wish list this season. The device, which retails for $49.95 and comes color choices of blush, taupe or mocha, gained popularity earlier this Fall after being featured in ‘Ruin my Wife 7,’ a DVD and instant download feature film.

Jennie Arbor was at Goldie’s buying the device for her husband soon after it opened on Saturday.

“Jason is just notorious to buy for,” she said. “I’m excited to get him something that I know he’s going to love.”

“Plus, I can’t wait to tie it on and remind him what a filthy, useless bitch he is.”

Man: Please stop calling me Waldo

CITRUS HEIGHTS — An area resident says he has been experiencing a recent, nightmarish ordeal when in public places.

Alvin Marshall says that everywhere he goes, passerby taunt him, calling him ‘Waldo.’

“They won’t leave me alone, it’s always, “Hey Waldo,” or “Look, I found Waldo — I just keep telling them ‘I’m not Waldo, that I don’t know any Waldo,’ but they just won’t listen.”

“This has cost me friends,” Marshall says. “No one wants to hang around with the guy who keeps getting names yelled at him.”

Marshall says he is “baffled” as to why he is being singled out. “I may not be the most attractive thing out there, and yeah, I wear glasses. Lots of people do. Also, I have a trick knee, so I use a cane when I walk sometimes. Does that make me some kind of ‘Waldo?’ What does that even mean, anyway?”

He says the taunting has begun very recently, almost exclusively in the evenings.

“Its been cold lately, but I like that — I finally got to wear the sweater and hat set my aunt got me for my birthday. If I could only get people to stop screaming at me, I’d be a real happy guy.”

Prop 8 ruling exciting news for man with unusual business

SACRAMENTO — Glen Williamson woke up an unhappy man this morning, another Sacramentan with a troubled small business and seemingly no way out. Yet he was all smiles this afternoon when he heard that a Federal judge had shot down 2008’s Proposition 8 - a law that defined marriage as being only between a man and a woman.

“No, I’m not gay,” said Williamson, “But I just know that gay couples everywhere will want to use my service.”

His business, ‘Tiaras for Terriers,’ has been around for two years, but has just barely survived in the current economic climate.

“In these troubled times, it seems that no one wants to rent or own formalwear or various uniforms for their dog — or sometimes cat if they’re big enough.”

Williamson said that he received many inquires from the gay community, however.

“Gay couples are simply less likely to have children to fulfill the ‘cute’ needs of a modern wedding — the flower children or the ring bearers, for example” explained Williamson. “My business adresses those concerns with style - from a simple headpiece and display pillow on your German Shephard to a full evening gown like we see on ‘Poopie’ here.” Williamson then gestured to his West Highland White Terrier, who was clad head to tail in pink chiffon.

“It’s really just about taste - and while I’m not homosexual, I think we share similar interests in how we dress our dogs.”

Williamson’s business may not be the only industry affected by the landmark decision. Gay-specific wedding planning was trending in internet searches, as were requests for “rainbow color floral arrangements,” “female-sized cutoff jackets with camo cummerbunds” and “assless tuxedo pants.”

‘Same socks’ office fiasco enters tense 24th minute

DOWNTOWN — Negotiations halted today on a tense standoff between office workers Bernard Torry and Jerry Singleton over what each calls a ‘felonious’ abuse of trust in wearing the same style of Sears-brand argyle sock.

“Look, Jerry and I have discussed this. We knew we had sock copies.” said a visibly flustered Torry. “I told that bastard that I had Wednesdays. I told him.”

Singleton spat back, gesturing angrily towards the floor, “These are my god-damn socks and I’ll wear them whenever I please. This is America, not Red China.”

“Well, you’re a fat fuck,” volleyed Torry before he was physically restrained by Dave the copy clerk.

Co-workers said the scandal began as an office gag - “We both knew Jerry and Bernard had the same socks, it was funny, a joke, you know?” said secretary Sally Saunders. “We all giggled, ‘you guys are going to end up wearing those argyles on the same day soon.’”

“We said we’d call them ‘The Bobbsey (socks) Twins’ or ask them if they were going to attend a ‘sock hop’ and all had a laugh — how wrong we all were,” she said, shaking her head slowly.

With both sides completely unwilling to back down or meet the other’s demands (including rolling down their god-damn highwater pants or just wearing those loafers without socks), or even stop yelling, the standoff could last the rest of the afternoon, said office staff.

Jason the IT guy stated that “both of those guys were sun-dried dicks” and he wasn’t surprised if “they had simultaneous strokes over those stupid socks.”

Office manager G. Robert Mossman was not able to be reached for comment or mediation, as his dog got into something this morning and threw up on the living room rug.

Roger Duncan, dead at 54, invented popular tattoo trend

RANCHO CORDOVA — Roger Duncan, a man recognized for popularizing the immensely popular lower back tattoo placement known as ‘the tramp stamp’ was found dead in his Rancho Cordova mobile home Monday. He was 54.

The coroner’s office says that no cause of death was immediately apparent, and foul play did not appear to be involved. Duncan lived alone in his single-wide trailer at Fancy Estates Mobile Home Park. His property manager, Sheila Erns, stated “she didn’t hear shit” at the time of his death.

Duncan’s neighbor, Patty Kimmish, said Duncan was a “good guy.” “He was always helpin’ me change the propane bottle on the front, and he even did some work on me for free,” she said, pulling down her blouse to reveal the name “Chuck” written in cursive on her right breast. “I mean, fuck that asshole Chuck now, but still, it was the thought that counts.”

Duncan, a Sacramento native, grew up in the Gardenland area, where he completed the 8th grade. He then joined the U.S. Coast Guard, where he received a dishonorable discharge with time served for exploding a latrine. After some trouble with the law, including petty larceny and mail fraud, he found his calling.

“I was in the clink with Roge, sure,” said longtime friend Scott Walker. “He was always bored, and pissing and moaning, and so I said ‘Why don’t you shut the fuck up and start doing tattoos?’ I guess it stuck.”

Duncan started by inking crude pictures of breasts on fellow cellmates forearms, but truly hit his stride when he was released from prison and started a part-time job at Foaming Dawg Tattoo in Rancho Cordova. There, Walker said, Duncan found his major interest was in tattooing women, stating “sometimes you get to see their tits.”

“He was all about doing women. He was a T&A man, if you know what I mean, heh. That’s what we always used to say about Roge - he liked having sex with women.”

In 1987, Duncan is noted for giving the first lower-back tattoo, featuring the name ‘Candyi’ encircled with vines, to Candyi McCullen, now desceased.

“Once the other girls at the strip club saw that, Roge had steady work for years,” Walker said.

Walker estimated that until his retirement in 2007, Duncan inked around 750-1000 lower backs, of “young sluts, old bitches, and even dumb-ass dudes.” Subjects ranged from “tribals to celtic knots, Japanese characters and, you know, flowers and dolphins and shit.”

While Duncan is generally credited within the tattoo community for creating the trend of the lower-back designs, Walker believes he should recieve more recognition postmortem.

“They should have a statue made to honor this guy!” he said. “I mean, he invented the easy way to tell if a girl is going to put out. That makes him ten times better than that Churchill motherfucker for sure.”

Awful band at least has matching suits

MIDTOWN — Spectators on Monday reported from the Press Club that “fucking terrible” band Barry and the Legionnaires “has pretty good style, I guess.”

“I mean, I don’t think they brought a guitar tuner to the show,” reports Ricky Sanchez, frequent concert-goer. “The drummer was out of time, the singer couldn’t hit a note to save his life, the bass player seemed like he wasn’t even awake, and all their songs sounded like different variations of ‘Crimson and Clover’ as presented by god-damn idiots. But those suits looked pretty good.”

Others at the venue agreed. Casey McLaughlin, idly smoking a cigarette outside during the show, said “These assholes are like the Rolling Stones, but entirely unlistenable instead of just ‘crap.’ I guess it’s a good thing they planned on wearing the same suit. That at least lends them a bit of credibility. But… you know, not that much.”

Show promoter Wayne Richards confided that while he doesn’t think Barry and the Legionnaires are “a winning combination” he will continue to book them.

“These guys try real hard, and let’s face it, they stink. But they bring audiences night after night. People always seem to stay and watch, even though they sound like a guitar being used to pummel a sick cat.”

“I’m no expert, but I bet it’s those snappy matching suits.”

Sidewalk shut down after 18-bro pileup

MIDTOWN - In what one witness called “probably the least sick thing to happen in a long time” at least 15 cruiser bicycles were involved in a chain-reaction collision that clogged the 2400 block of J st’s sidewalk into the early evening Sunday.

“There were flat-brim hats and sandals everywhere, it was SO not cool,” said a young woman, identified only as ‘Cyndi.’ She and other patrons of the popular college hangout The Beach Hut Deli sat sobbing on the converted Victorian’s steps, clearly at a loss to describe how something of this magnitude could happen.

Authorities say details are sketchy at best. Sacramento City Fire Department spokesman Frank Gerber, in a press conference, attempted to develop a time-line. “We know that the Beach Hut provides a discount beverage special on Sunday afternoons. We know that this afternoon was particularly warm and sunny, perfect for activities such as ‘tossin the ‘bee,’ or ‘hittin’ up Paradise Beach.’ While this explains a surge in overall bro volume, we can’t understand what sequence of events would lead to such a horrific accident.”

“I don’t know what went down, brah,” said 6th-year Sac State geography student James Geckert, while tending to a large rip in his cargo-short pocket. “It was like, just a nice ride, y’know, and then all of a sudden I hear some dude say ‘DOLLAR BEERS YO’ and all of a sudden shit’s fucked, dudes are all colliding and I’m on the ground and my bike is, like, trashed,” he said, gesturing to a pile of bent springer forks and mangled balloon-tire fenders. “I just wanted to get my BL on, y’know what I mean, maybe talk to some babes. Hey, do you know those girls over there?”

Inside, Beach Hut Deli worker Lindsay Rohnert told reporters over the ironic strains of the Dave Matthews Band tune ‘Crash Into Me’ additional employees were being called in to help serve the newly-formed and “severely bummed” crowd. “I mean, these bro-hams came to make beer-aymids out of their empties and maybe even play some impromptu pong on the table out back. Who are we to deny them after this terrible tragedy.”