The week in which the mayor got all crabby with Florence Henderson, The Daily Show got all pissy in Tallahassee and Santa got all drinky in front of the kids. Everything itches!
Published: December 15, 2011
“It was clearly something they didn’t think all the way through,” Randolph says, referring to the length of time it would take The Daily Show-administered home urine tests to process. Randolph thought The Daily Show was inviting him to an early sit-down interview, but instead “they said, ‘Would you pee in a cup?’ I said, ‘You’ll need a bigger cup.’That was my one funny line,” Randolph says.
What transpired thereafter is the stuff of men’s awkward bathroom fantasies. Randolph was followed into the bathroom by the whole production team, which proceeded to put a boom mic over his shoulder and cause him performance anxiety. When Randolph finally did produce the liquid gold, the team stood around and stared at the cup, waiting for the 10-minute home drug test to process. Men don’t talk in bathrooms, see. Hilariously, one of the strips testing for opiates wasn’t registering correctly – or, cleanly – something Randolph later figured was the result of the Propofol he was given during a routine endoscopy on Dec. 5. Had this not been a stunt – had Randolph actually been poor and in need of temporary assistance – he basically would have been fucked. Well, maybe fucked isn’t the right word. “We declared that the drug test showed I was pregnant,” says Randolph, whose uterus-loving wife is pregnant.
Speaking of medicine – and, well, the governor’s budget – it’s worth pointing out that Scott’s education nonsense is basically being funded by $2 billion in cuts to hospitals dealing in Medicaid and Medicare. By way of extremely dire explanation, Scott’s budget director, Jerry McDaniel, defended the cuts with this amazing salvo: “The governor operated 343 hospitals while he was in business. He was very successful at it. He said his best-paying clients were Medicaid and Medicare.”
That’ll happen when you allegedly defraud said entities and end up paying $1.7 billion to clear your name. Somebody pass the cup.
Just don’t pass it to Santa Claus!In what was supposed to be an innocent family affair – well, as innocent as something called “Jingle Jam: A Crazy Kind of Christmas Market” can be – the Downtown South Main Street board of directors set out to launch a new annual tradition on Dec. 3 with a festival-like vendor fair in the Southside Market parking lot on Orange Avenue. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? Well, on Wednesday, Dec. 7, the board was forced to swallow some of its holiday cheer and send out an email apology.
“It came to our attention after the Jingle Jam was over that the volunteer we had playing Santa Claus was drinking adult beverages at the event,” the email reads. “This was inappropriate and we apologize to all who attended that this occurred.”
Because drunk Santas never occur, especially when they are not paid to deal with children while their parents drink, we called Downtown South program manager Holly Vanture for more of the sordid details. Turns out that somebody’s mom called the Monday after and spilled the eggnog on Santa’s wayward ways, and it will never happen again.
“In hindsight, very often you think that you didn’t have to say certain things,” says Vanture, who allows that, though the event did provide alcohol to some of its 1,200 participants, it was as far away as possible from Santa’s place. “Every year, we have a list of things we would change. This year, on that list is Santa drinks sodas and water only. Actually, Santa drinks milk only. Milk and cookies for Santa all day!” Santa needs a flask.
> Email Billy Manes