I received an inquiry from a reader who expressed interest in making a contribution to the non-profit Wild Animal Orphanage that will be taking in the big cats. The organization’s website is here.

Joan Byron-Marasek, who refers to herself as “The Tiger Lady,” lost her three-year battle in the New Jersey courts to keep her collection of 24 tigers in Jackson Township, New Jersey (hardly the wide-open spaces here in the most densely populated state in the union). Ms. Byron-Marasek came to the attention of the local police and the New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife in 1999 when they received reports of a 431-pound Bengal tiger wandering loose in a nearby residential neighborhood. The Tiger Lady, presumably managing to keep a straight face, denied that the animal belonged to her. (Sounds reasonable to me. We all keep least a couple of Bengal tigers as pets here in the Garden State.)

The state authorities claimed that The Tiger Lady’s keeping two dozen tigers in her 12-acre Ocean County compound violated applicable state regulations. Ultimately, the matter was thought to be have been settled, when a non-profit wild animal orphanage in Texas agreed to take the big cats. However, the deal fell through, and the Texas animal orphanage declined to take the animals (at considerable cost) when the Tiger Lady insisted on retaining ownership of the animals, with an eye toward possibly reclaiming them at a later date.

The court’s ruling today stripped the Tiger Lady of ownership of the tigers. The court held that her failure over the past three years to make satisfactory arrangements for the animals permitted the state to take control over the tigers. Unfortunately, during that three-year period, the estimated costs to transport the animals and to house them in Texas rose from the original estimate of $140,000 to $250,000. The orphanage will pay one half of the costs, and New Jersey taxpayers will pick up the tab for the balance.

I can only imagine what the three-year battle with this Nutbar has cost New Jersey taxpayers and what a toll it must have taken on the nearby residents who have to go about their daily lives having two dozen tigers for neighbors, and knowing that, on at least one occasion, one of them has gotten loose.

Jersey. Ya gotta love it. Badda-Bing!!!

Hawaii. We think of a beautiful island paradise, tropical breezes, tropical drinks, wonderful Hawaiian customs, and ukulele music. We don’t think of SPAM, and yet Hawaii is the world’s SPAM capital. Hawaiians eat 6.7 million cans of the stuff per year. They love it. In fact, last month was the Hawaii “SPAM Jam,” with SPAM cook offs by famous Hawaiian chefs. They wrap it in seaweed and they eat it on sandwiches with eggs and mayonnaise. One can even buy a cookbook full of Hawaiian SPAM recipes. Hell, there are so many recipes they needed a second book.

I first learned of this from an old friend who has lived on Maui for more than thirty years. I thought he was joking, until he rattled off about a half dozen of his favorite SPAM recipes. I still don’t get it.

Some speculate that SPAM, which was “invented” in 1937, became popular in Hawaii during World War II as a result of its wide availability to servicemen stationed in the Islands. Who knows?

After listening to my friend talk about it several months ago, I bought a can of the stuff, determined to slice it thin, fry it and eat it with eggs, as he suggested. However, it is still sitting in the kitchen cabinet. Every time I think about trying it, I lose my nerve.

Besides, if you’re from Jersey, there is nothing – repeat – NOTHING like Taylor Ham (a/k/a Taylor Pork Roll), a Garden State staple. People in Jersey like Taylor Ham so much that some enterprising person has set up a website where people from Jersey who move away can buy Taylor Ham online. Great with Eggs, it also makes a terrific sandwich on a hard roll (called a “Kaiser Roll” by dweebs not from here), on rye or on a bagel with cheese.

SPAM? Nah. Make mine Taylor Ham.

Monday Musings.
I don’t have anything particularly interesting or amusing to say right now, although I can tell you that the next installment of Sgt. Steele is taking shape in my cruller. In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves. When you’re finished talking, I think you might enjoy these sites:

Check out how popular your first name is, based on the 1990 US Census (I’m number 1!). Then you can see how your last name ranks among the 55,000 most common surnames in the US (I’m number 458). via The Ultimate Insult.

I also found the site about celebrity tippers to be interesting. Don’t miss the Jesse (spelled “Jessie” in the piece) Jackson horror story. via Attu Sees All.

Weekend Time Waster.
I admit it. I actually enjoyed playing a couple games of Battleships.
via The Presurfer

I Took the Test….

Congratulations! You’re a Slutertarian. You believe
in Democracy, Sexy, and Whiskey. And you really
mean it!

Are You A Slutertarian?
brought to you by Quizilla

via Venomous Kate

Good Intentions.
I had planned to write something last night, although I’m not sure exactly what. However, it was a long and busy week, so after having survived the customary Friday traffic mess, I decided to treat myself to a drink from one of the bottles of excellent single barrel bourbon my daughter and new son-in-law bought for me. (They also bought me a bottle of this and this. Nicely done!!) The one before dinner was so good, after dinner I enjoyed two more.

I was then ready to set about writing, but first, I thought, I would make myself comfortable in the recliner for “a half hour or so” while I thought about what I might write.

Six hours later, I awoke up in the middle of the night. So much for writing.

I needed that.

Shiite Liberalsâ„¢
Shiite Liberals. Who are they? They are the wackadoos who would place a linguistic burqua over textbooks by expunging words like “Founding Fathers” and “snowman” because they are sexist. (Try singing “Frosty the Snowperson.”)

They are the Hollywood dipshits who run their mouths at will, only to plead victimization when those who disagree also speak up or decide not to spend money on their Hollywares. Then they remove any doubt about their stupidity by claiming that all this amounts to a violation of their First Amendment Rights. When Tim Robbins is arrested for the dumb things he says, I will be among the first to take his side. Until then, he can blather on, but he’ll have to be prepared to take his lumps.

They are the hateful bastards who would happily support American troops if they would only shoot their officers.

They are the tiresome, pathetic boobs who prefer to remain in a dream world where Al Gore really won the presidency.

They are the ones who think Maureen Dowd and Hillary are just swell.

They are the ones who make my hair hurt.

Why Montana?
Yesterday, I listed some of the nasties that we New Jersey drivers have to contend with, even though we don’t have to pump our own gas. Today, Craig, over at mtpolitics, answers the “Why Montana?” question by pointing to an excellent description of what it is like to be one of the everyday Jersey Road Warriors. Take a read through Susanna’s description of a leisurely drive in the Garden State, but be sure to fasten your seatbelt. Craig may have to pump his own gas, but maybe he’s got it right, and maybe he can teach Susanna and me how to work those damned pumps.