Thursday, January 22, 2015

Culture Watch: Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places


Gilberto was just looking for a little love.

by Noah

Everyone wants love, don't they? Some are lucky in love. Some are not. Love will alter your future. Love will affect the way you look at life and the world. Love can soothe the savage beast within. Scientists say it can even lower your blood pressure.

These are just a few of the things love can do.

Ah, but not having love can drive a person to distraction, the despair of loneliness, drink, and self-destruction.

Some women will buy a concert ticket and park themselves right up front of the stage in hopes that the star of the show will take an interest. Guys can name their price for backstage passes. But none of that is real love. Neither is getting on the Internet and arranging a meeting with trouble with a capital T.

We all see those matchmaker ads on TV, with dozens of smiling happy couples, some of whom really did find their mate after answering several questions, creating a profile and being computer-matched with someone who did the same. For them, the price was worth it.

So it was with great interest that I read this particular story, the story of one lonely man's attempt to find love, right here in New York City. The problem for this particular man is that he has a past, a very high-profile past. His name is Gilberto Valle, and he is known as New York's "Cannibal Cop."

Last year, one of now ex-cop Valle's two guilty verdicts was vacated. The vacated verdict was for “conspiring to cook, kill and consume women.” A judge ruled that Valle, who had put such fantasies online, never actually consummated his stated desires. Valle's other conviction, for "unlawfully accessing an NYPD database," was upheld. He'd used the Police Department database to find information about various women, and then discussed his culinary needs in deranged Internet chat rooms.

Gilberto the Cannibal Cop served 21 months in prison, but now he's free, serving one year of "supervised release." Ah, but the call of the computer is strong with this one. Feeling lonely and needing love, he filled out a profile at Hey, his family says he's such a nice boy. What's not to like?

[Click to enlarge.]

Is there that “perfect someone” out there waiting for Gilberto? Will she be willing to overlook a certain something in his past? Valle says he is looking for someone who is "non-judgmental," a woman who "can make the best out of a situation that is less than ideal." He says he is a man who has "the ability to see the humor in most situations."

Is there a woman for Gilberto who has quite the necessary sense of humor? Alas, we may never know. You see, once found out about Valle's past this week, they removed him from their site.

Fear not, Gilberto! As my own “"perfect someone" reminded me when I mentioned your situation to her, there are always plenty of women who will marry prisoners on Death Row, so, I bet there are some out there lining up right now, eager for you to take them to dinner and top it off with a nice Chianti. Be careful though, Gilberto, she may end up being more like you than you ever expected. This is New York, after all, and they say the Big Apple can eat you alive.

So much for looking for love in New York. What about looking for love in London? Those who know me know how I feel about England. Not that I haven't had a few very good English friends, but they escaped their weirdo homeland and came here. As for the others, I once worked for a now-deservedly-defunct English-owned record company, and the experience taught me all I need to know about British ways, manners, and customs.

I present to you the case of one quite inebriated Paul Bennett.

Paul is quite the rage now in London. How'd it happen? Well, it seems he fucked a mailbox. You read that right. He fucked a mailbox. The thing is, some passersby called the coppers on him. He had pulled down his pants and, well, you can guess the rest. He was having quite a good time of it too, repeatedly screaming “wow!”

Unfortunately, Bennett was arrested before he could wander down the street and do some more mailboxes. I don't know what the record for fucking London mailboxes is, but from what I've seen of England, I imagine the number is quite high. My theory is that he saw that nice big Crown logo on the mailbox and thought he was having it on with the Queen, or maybe just Prince Andrew.

Having actually spent time in England stepping over all the people lying on the sidewalk passed out in their own beer vomit, I wouldn't be shocked if getting it on with inanimate objects is some sort of national pastime. I noticed that Stonehenge is now surrounded by a very high fence, presumably to protect the standing stones from carnal assault. I guess Brits, inbred as they are on that little isle, see those big hard stones sticking up and they just lose all control. The place is such a madhouse that they might even make Paul Bennett an honorary member of the House of Lords.

Sad really, but, as the song says, love can tear you apart.

For more reading on the subject of looking for love in all the wrong places, may I suggest this little tale from Tennessee, another place known for combining alcohol with inbreeding: "Drunk Tennessee man tried to have sex with ATM, picnic table: cops." This guy has a thing for ATM machines. At least he probably got some cash. If not, his pimp is gonna beat the crap out of him.



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