weird news
A man is accused of pointing a gun at the manager of a Popeyes in Louisiana during a dispute over condiments.
NOLA.com/The Times-Picayune reports that 59-year-old Earl Jethroe of Marrero walked into the eatery last Friday, ordered a meal and apparently took issue with the condiments provided by employees.
At some point, the arrest reports says, Jethroe threw his chicken across the counter, pulled a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at the manager. Jethroe didn't fire the weapon, and no one was hurt.
Authorities say deputies later found Jethroe at another restaurant, yelling. They say he smelled of alcohol and was unsteady on his feet.
Jethroe was arrested and charged with offences including aggravated assault with a firearm. It is unclear if he has a lawyer who could comment.
A holiday display meant to recreate a scene from 'National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation' looked a little too real and caused a veteran to spring into action.
The Heerlein family placed a dummy representing Clark Griswold dangling from the gutter of their Austin, Texas, home, with a ladder tipping beneath him.
A veteran passing by thought it was the real thing and wrestled the ladder up while shouting, "Can you reach it?"
KVUE-TV reports that the man called police, who arrived and advised the family they were getting calls about the display.
They have since put up a sign that says 'Clark G is part of our Christmas display please do not call 911'.
Church ends 70-year dinner tradition
A Minnesota church has ended its 70-year tradition of serving a dinner of lutefisk, a Nordic dish of dried cod soaked in lye, and the pastor has penned a eulogy for the dinner's end.
Faith Lutheran Church in Forest Lake, Minnesota, would serve a Scandinavian dinner featuring the pungent, jellylike fish the first Tuesday in December.
But the Rev John Klawiter wrote an obituary for the annual dinner in the community newspaper last month.
Klawiter wanted the obit to read as a tribute to the seven decades the church in east-central Minnesota has served hundreds of pounds of lutefisk at the annual dinner, dubbed "Holy Tuesday," the Minneapolis Star Tribune reported .
"There was a lot of pride that this made it to 70 years," said Klawiter, a self-described "lutefisk convert."
The dinner would require about 190 volunteers. Planners had to find ways to fill gaps left by volunteers who had died or grown too frail.
Dutch motivational speaker Emile Ratelband may feel like a 49-year-old, but according to Dutch law, he is still 69.
A Dutch court on Monday rejected Ratelband's request to shave 20 years off his age in a case that drew worldwide attention.
"Mr Ratelband is at liberty to feel 20 years younger than his real age and to act accordingly," Arnhem court said in a press statement. "But amending his date of birth would cause 20 years of records to vanish from the register of births, deaths, marriages and registered partnerships. This would have a variety of undesirable legal and societal implications."
Ratelband went to court last month, arguing that he didn't feel 69, and saying his request was consistent with other forms of personal transformation which are gaining acceptance in the Netherlands and around the world, such as the ability to change one's name or gender.
The court rejected that argument, saying that unlike in the case of a name or gender, Dutch law assigns rights and obligations based on age "such as the right to vote and the duty to attend school. If Mr Ratelband's request was allowed, those age requirements would become meaningless."
A Minnesota church has ended its 70-year tradition of serving a dinner of lutefisk, a Nordic dish of dried cod soaked in lye, and the pastor has penned a eulogy for the dinner's end.
Faith Lutheran Church in Forest Lake, Minnesota, would serve a Scandinavian dinner featuring the pungent, jellylike fish the first Tuesday in December.
But the Rev John Klawiter wrote an obituary for the annual dinner in the community newspaper last month.
Klawiter wanted the obit to read as a tribute to the seven decades the church in east-central Minnesota has served hundreds of pounds of lutefisk at the annual dinner, dubbed 'Holy Tuesday', the Minneapolis Star Tribune reported .
"There was a lot of pride that this made it to 70 years," said Klawiter, a self-described "lutefisk convert."
The dinner would require about 190 volunteers. Planners had to find ways to fill gaps left by volunteers who had died or grown too frail.