Who knew that when I broke the Sexy Bank Robber story on November 5th that she would become a media mini-sensation? Not me, that’s who!

The Sexy Bank Robber turned out to be 19 year old Candice Rose Martinez, a native of Santa Fe, New Mexico. More politically correctly dubbed “The Cell Phone Bandit”, Ms. Sexy Bank Robber ran rampant for two weeks, holding up four Wachovia banks before the FBI grabbed her. MSNBC, CNN, and the Washington Post all covered the story, finally reporting her arrest in Centreville, Virginia. Pretty heady stuff for Centreville, considering the most exciting thing I’ve ever done there was bowl a 185 at this year’s company tournament.

In a tragic twist of the tale, Ms. Martinez’s father, still residing in New Mexico, told an interviewer that his daughter had gone to Virginia to get a college education, that she enrolled at Northern Virginia Community College (NOVA) - she had plans for a business management degree - and that he had risked his home and his investements to make her education possible. So what does Candice do with her father’s trust and generosity? She hooks up with a loser ex-Wachovia employee named David Williams, commits multiple armed robberies, and then blows the whole wad at Circuit City. Clever girl, our Candice.

Candice isn’t looking so sexy in her mug shot. Then again, the FBI grabbed her at 4:00 in the morning (”Your sexy bank robber has been arrested.. I’m sorry for your loss.” wrote Jeff Fayne) before she could put her game face on, and who looks good in a mug shot anyway? Have you ever seen Nick Nolte’s mug shot? Anyway, check out her eyes. Maybe it’s the effects of the FBI knocking on her door at 4:00am, but is it me or are they slightly crossed? Is that from hours spent squinting down a gun barrel? Or is it simply a case of radiation from too many minutes on the cell phone?

Jeff Watson told me that Ms. Martinez would probably be in her late forties when she gets out of prison and that I should meet her on her release date and tell her, “Stick with me. I own stuff.” Not sure what The Debra thinks of that plan - I haven’t broached it with her.

Anyway, the Sexy Bank Robber saga is over and life in Loudoun County has moved on. Besides, we have a new wayward citizen to track down: Double Donut Man!

Loudoun County’s Finest
Sexy Bank Robber	Double Donut Man

The last time I saw Tim Maddocks I worked at a Pizza Hut in Seattle, surviving on Grape Nuts and Butterfingers. I lived in a 6′x12′ closet near Green Lake, slept on a Therm-a-Rest, and walked to work in Ballard because I couldn’t afford gas for the car. Both Tim and I, along with Ian Barclay, were six months removed from running the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. We survived, of course, but just barely.

When Tim and Ian came to Seattle we crashed a house party where Layne Staley (Alice in Chains) and Kim Thayil (Soundgarden) were playing prior to their ensuing fame and fortune. We drove to Vancouver where we were stopped by Canadian customs and my car was strip-searched for drugs and cigarettes. There were no drugs or smokes, but the Canucks did find, tucked under the spare tire in the trunk, a firework left over from a 4th of July family trip to Oklahoma in 1986 or something. I had to surrender the firework to The Crown. There was paperwork and everything. Later Tim fell for a girl in a club on Pioneer Square but lost her when her Mistress came by at closing time to claim her. Needless to say, Tim was a bit irate at losing a fish he had worked so hard to reel in - and was so close to landing. But these things occur in life and one can only move on.

That was fourteen years ago.

Now Tim is a film maker and I’m an Internet guy. He’s chasing a dream, driving taxis in Sydney to keep funds moving, popping up at film festivals, reviewing screen plays, planning projects, and seems pretty happy with the way things are turning out. I couldn’t be happier for him.

Pretty inspirational stuff.

Hopefully it’ll rub off.

The Debra and I dined by candlelight tonight, which we do from time to time. I stuck a piece of paper into the flame to light it on fire. “Honey,” scolded The Debra, “We do not light things on fire in the house.” Properly admonished, I put the paper down. That’s it. End of story.

The Minnesota Vikings beat the New York Giants 24-21 after returning an interception, a kickoff, and a punt, for touchdowns. That had never been done in the NFL before. And then Paul Edinger booted the game winner from 40 with ten seconds left.

I’d write more but I’m beat after one of the more retarded weeks I’ve experienced at work (retarded enough to make me consider cramming myself into leather pants, remaking my office into a Paris hotel room, dragging in a bathtub, then hopping in and faking my own death). I’m also distracted by some show on TV where a young guy keeps accidentally sleeping with transexuals. My wife watches the weirdest stuff. From the sound of it, things aren’t ending well on the TV.

“Cut!” shouts Mr. Maddocks. “And fade to black.”

Apparently Ashburn’s Sexy Bank Robber is on a spree.

According to police, the woman who allegedly held up the Wachovia Bank in Ashburn could be the same woman responsible for several bank robberies in the area. She seems to be blanketing Northern Virginia - hitting banks in Loudoun, Fairfax, and Prince William counties as well as the town of Vienna.

I’m starting to get the feeling that Susan Sarandon and Gina Davis are somehow involved in this - that this Latina is robbing banks while her partner is shacked up in a run down motel somewhere with a young Brad Pitt look-alike. All this story needs now is Harvey Keitel running after our bank robbers as they launch themselves and their ‘66 Thunderbird convertible off the rim of the Grand Canyon and the circle will be complete.

From Tamsen:

Donald Rumsfeld is giving President Bush his daily briefing on Iraq.

He concludes by saying: “Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed.”

“OH, NO!” the president exclaims. “That’s terrible!”

His staff, stunned at this display of emotion, watches nervously as the President sits, head in hands.

Finally, President Bush looks up and asks, “How many is a brazillion?”

So two Carolina Panthers cheerleaders, Angela and Renee, decided to let off a little pent-up hormonal steam, adjourning to a local Tampa nightclub for drinkies and a little naked romp together in a nightclub bathroom stall. In medias res, the two women were busted by cops and later booted from the cheerleading squad. Seems they violated their signed and sworn oath to uphold the Top Cats cheerleader code of conduct.

(One must assume that said code of conduct precludes liquored-up same-sex naughtiness in the bathrooms of nightclubs and the subsequent punching of nightclub patrons with a closed fist upon discovery of said naughtiness. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!)

I can’t help feeling that this is all a bit hyprocritical. After all, the only purpose NFL cheerleaders serve is to inject sex into Sunday afternoon football games. How can a team pushing a product that features young women bouncing around in short-shorts and halter tops - bum cheeks and boobs popping - get so bent out of shape over a little over-the-top amorous silliness?

It sure didn’t take the Panthers long to act once the news hit. Within 24 hours of the story breaking, both Angela and Renee were given the boot and their photos and bios removed from the Carolina Panthers website. Fortunately, I had an idea this would turn out poorly for Anglea and Renee and I grabbed everything I could from the site on Monday morning before the Nazis…er…Panthers, struck. Have a look!

I’m probably the only man in America who thinks that NFL cheerleaders are a waste of time.

• You can’t see the their perky bouncy-bits from the stands.
• You can’t hear their enthusiatic little voices over the crowd noise.
• The dance routines are seldom noticed because…well, because of the violence and mayhem going on just behind them.

About the only thing NFL cheerleaders do is give sideline cameramen something to film for the guys sitting at home in need of a quick thrill.

And that, folks, is my firm and unyielding stance on NFL cheerleaders.

Except when they get trashed and debauch the bars of our fine Floridian cities. THAT, dear reader, is entertainment!

By the way, the Bush twins are upset with the cheerleaders for stealing their act - after all, they thought of it first!

Jeff Watson sent me this quote after reading Mike Mirenzi’s comments 11/5/2005 on the (growing lack of) separation of Church and State, specifically this quote from Mike: “Other countries elect intellectuals with zero charisma into positions of political power, why can’t we?”

“As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”

- H.L. Mencken

Suddenly bank robbers are hot? Who knew?

This one apparently held up the Wachovia Bank in Parkhurst Plaza in Ashburn, Virginia, flashing a gun in her purse and demanding money. She escaped in “an unknown direction with an undisclosed amount of cash.”

She didn’t even try to disguise her face – she’s got her sunglasses perched on top of her head – and is it me or does it look like she’s talking on a cell phone? “Si, si…manicure at 11:00. Give me the dinero! I have a gun! No, no, I wasn’t talking to you – si, the mud mask too. I’ll be paying in cash…”

As my good friend Sue Fayne would say, “Sassy!”

In Minnesota, they’re inducting Jerry Burns into the Vikings’ Ring of Honor at the Metrodome tomorrow. According to a local source, yesterday Burnsy addressed the struggling 2005 team during a team practice session. While I don’t have Burnsy’s exact quote in front of me, Vikings’ Head Coach Mike Tice related the story thusly, “He [Burnsy] was excellent. He talked about the big knockers who have got to knock hard on Sunday. I call them playmakers. He calls them big knockers. I agree with him.”

Big knockers? Playmakers? I think someone is confused. Now, I’ve been a few places, but in all my life I’ve never heard anyone say, “Wow! Look at the playmakers on that one!”

Burnsy, allow me to introduce you to our sassy bank robber in Ashburn – she may have just the “playmakers” you’re looking for. Now put the drink down and back away slowly.

Speaking of drinks…