by The Onion
After Rourke left, Stollis said that she began to worry that sensitive and personal details of her life would be revealed in a public forum.
"I don't want my old letters to FDR to appear in the school newspaper or the whole life story of my late husband, God rest his soul, to be paraded all over town for any old body to see," Stollis said. "Some things should stay in the family."
Stollis said she would be more careful not to get "hoodwinked" on future visits from her grandson.
"I cherish my grandchildren," Stollis said. "But I didn't spend three years riveting bomber planes to have them weasel information out of me just so they can pad their report cards."
Area Mom: 'I Finally Learned Computers'
Childbirth To Be Area Woman's Least Painful Interaction With Daughter
SCHENECTADY, NY—The near-indescribable pain of a 30-hour labor and the passing of an eight-pound infant through her birth canal will, over time, prove to be the least agonizing part of Virginia Quigley's relationship with her daughter, the 23-year-old first-time mother failed to realize Monday.
Quigley with an eerily quiet Caitlyn Rose in the calm before the storm that their life together will become."Labor was horrible," says a weakened Quigley, who doesn't know the half of it, as she lies in her bed at Divine Savior Hospital cradling her tiny future nemesis, Caitlyn Rose.
"This is the happiest day of my life," she adds, unaware of how true that observation will prove to be.
Over the next two decades, the young mother will endure a worsening avalanche of agonies. Unceasingly shrill fits for the first 18 months, followed by a sustained campaign of migraine-inducing petulant disobedience and gratuitous defiance, will typify Quigley's relationship with her daughter.
While the shrieking arguments over persistent truancy from school, harrowing episodes of self-mutilation, and pointless stints in rehab are still safely in the future, Quigley lovingly rocks her newborn, enjoying their last small window of peaceful interaction before it forever slams shut.
"Look at her little face—isn't she the most precious thing?" says father Douglas Quigley, 31, who, in addition to being spared the physical pain of labor, will also largely be spared the psychological pain of raising Caitlyn after abandoning his family in May 2009.
Other horrors that await mother and daughter include: a March 2010 ordeal demonstrating how insignificant postpartum hemorrhaging really is when compared to the deep pain of a hysterical 3-year-old Caitlyn repeatedly screaming, "I hate you! I wish you would die!" before a dozen onlookers in the cereal aisle of a local supermarket; the September 2014 scalding death of a pet gerbil, in which Caitlyn's amoral tendencies will first surface, dwarfing the discomfort of torn vaginal tissue; and, in an incident that will easily trump the intense nausea that tortured Quigley throughout labor, the night in July 2017 when the unsupervised 11-year-old, embittered by her single working mother's inability to provide adequate attention, will steal a bottle of Wild Turkey from a neighbor's liquor cabinet and vomit its contents on the living-room couch.
Also slated to occur is a June 2021 incident in which the father-figure-deprived teenager will have underage sex with a 45-year-old ex-convict named Wheeler, then call crying from a motel room at 4 a.m. A sleepless Quigley will drive 70 miles to pick up her daughter, only to fight bitterly with her all the way home and be two hours late for work, causing her to lose her low-paying job.
Quigley geared up for motherhood by reading child-care guides and sincerely hopes to be closely involved in Caitlyn's upbringing. However, Caitlyn's hyperactivity and intense flashes of temper will cause her frightened and intimidated mother to retreat into apathetic numbness, which will only accelerate Caitlyn's feelings of neglect and lay the groundwork for a life of destructive behavior.
As the Quigleys prepare to check out of the hospital and take Caitlyn back to their small two-bedroom home, they remain oblivious to their tragic future, including the unexpected arrival of police and child protective authorities alerted by concerned neighbors who will overhear a fight in which Quigley's then-boyfriend, Glenn, will beat and rape 13-year-old Caitlyn while Quigley lies passed out in the kitchen from a punch to the face.
In perhaps the most morbidly poetic chapter of the troubled relationship, a cancer-ridden Quigley will die alone, burdened on her deathbed with the worst pain of her life, after her repeated pleas for aid and comfort go unanswered by Caitlyn, who, though longing for reconciliation with her mother, will refuse to return the calls, saying she is "done" with her.
Family Cell-Phone Plan Area Family's Closest Bond
God's Plan For Area Man Involves Kidnapping Ford CEO
MINOT, ND—Unemployed factory worker James Harold Gurshner told reporters Monday that God's plan for him, revealed during a moment of divine inspiration, requires kidnapping Ford Motor Company CEO William Ford Jr.
Gurshner, who vows to do God's bidding by kidnapping Ford (below).
"The Lord works in mysterious ways," said Gurshner, talking to reporters through a metal grate screwed over the window of his dilapidated, hubcap-covered house. "And right now, the Lord is working through me. I didn't choose this path, but if you're called upon, you must look into your heart and make a decision. I have chosen to heed the Lord's command."
Gurshner said he does not know why God "came to [him] in a dream" and asked him to kidnap Ford, but he said he believes that "it is best not to question His motives."
"I didn't question the Lord when He struck down my beloved wife Emily with cervical cancer," Gurshner said. "I didn't question Him when I was dismissed from my job and put on Social Security. I didn't question Him when He commanded me to dig a three-foot ditch around my house and fill it with charcoal briquettes, and I don't question him now. I, James Harold Gurshner, will kidnap the Ford CEO, as that is the will of the Lord."
"Amen," Gurshner added.
Gurshner said he would prefer to kidnap the man who runs the auto-supply store, or simply volunteer at the local soup kitchen, but nonetheless, he is determined to complete the Lord's task.
"The Lord would not have picked me to carry out His will if He didn't think I could do it," Gurshner said. "He'll probably help me along, though. Just like the time I found a perfectly good chair on the side of the road two days after I burned all of my furniture for Jesus. God will provide for those who do His will."
Although he does not have a specific kidnapping plan, Gurshner said he is confident that he will succeed.
"I've been thinking on ways to get that Ford guy the whole time I've been cleaning out the aluminum shed out back," Gurshner said. "That's where I'll store him. I won't keep the CEO tied up and gagged in a dirty place. The Lord wants me to make him feel comfortable."
Although Gurshner refuses to question God's will, he has a few theories about the Heavenly Father's motives.
"The Lord may want to enact retribution for all the people who died in cars, like my daddy did when I was 7," Gurshner said. "But unless the Lord directly tells me to torture Ford, or beat him, I won't. One thing I will not do is make love to the Ford CEO's asshole, no matter what the Lord says. That activity is a sin against nature. An order to do it would be God's way of testing me."
Raised a Seventh-day Adventist, Gurshner said he "got the true calling" in 1998, when God commanded him to kill a stray dog that wouldn't stop barking during the night.
"I saw a bright light and knew in a flash what He wanted," said Gurshner, who explained that God's messages are often paired with staggering migraine headaches. "It wasn't until I put a shovel through that dog's head that God was satisfied and the messages finally stopped."
Gurshner said God usually sends him messages through Bible passages, particularly those found in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. Sometimes, however, the messages appear on Hardee's billboards or in Kenny Chesney song lyrics.
"I never know what God's next message will be or when I will get it—all I can do is obey," Gurshner said. "It's like when God told me to start collecting plastic laundry-soa
p bottles a few years back. I still don't know what they're for, but until God reveals His reasons, I'll keep storing them in my living room."
Residents of Minot are well-acquainted with Gurshner's relationship with God.
"Everybody has heard all about Jim's direct line to the Lord," said Officer Nathan Randell of the Minot Police Department. "We try to leave him alone whenever we can. Most people in town feel sorry for him. All that tragedy shouldn't happen to one man. But when Jim gets really riled up, we have to go talk him down, or sometimes even lock him up for a night. He'll tell us that blaring religious hymns from his car stereo on Main Street at 3 a.m. is part of God's plan, but I guess we have to go against His wishes every once and a while."
Ford declined to comment on the Lord's plan.
Area Dog Will Never Live Up To Dog On Purina Bag
KANSAS CITY, MO—Although those close to Buster characterize him as a good boy, the area collie-rottweiler mix reported Monday that he will never live up to the standard set by the show-quality golden retriever on the Purina Dog Chow bag.
Buster eyes the competition.
"I try as hard as I can," said Buster, lying on his blanket in the entryway of the Hopkins-family home. "I welcome [Buster's owner] Gerald [Hopkins] home every night with lots and lots of barks and leaps. And when he sits down in his chair to read, I lie quietly at his feet. Still, when I see that dog on the Dog Chow bag, I feel like I'm nothing."
Without lifting his head from his paws, Buster turned his eyes to the shelf above the dryer, where the trim and muscular golden retriever on the 40-pound bag of Purina Dog Chow bounded across a green lawn.
According to Buster, the dog is almost certainly American Kennel Club-certified.
"Look at that coat," Buster said. "Thick and soft... And his color! Varying shades of rich and lustrous gold. As for me, I'm sort of a rough, dull black, and I know it. I've known it since I figured out that the strange, scentless dog in the mirror is me. Ever since then...well, I try my best not to whine, but it's hard to live with the fact that I will never measure up."
"It didn't take two vets to piece together what breed that dog was," Buster added.
Buster admitted that not one member of the Hopkins family has ever compared him unfavorably to the dog on the food bag.
"But I know what they must be thinking," Buster said, baring his teeth to reveal two misaligned incisors. "Just look at this messed-up bite. The kids hug me when they feed me, but over their shoulders, I can see Golden Boy over there, staring down at me from the Purina bag."
Buster said his worst days are those when a family member forgets to return the Purina bag back to the shelf after feeding him.
"Oh, I go positively crazy," Buster said, pausing to gnaw a spot on his left hindquarter. "He's right there, staring me down, eye to eye, all day long. The only way I can get away from his strong nose and bright eyes is to put my own head in the bag. And, you know how it is, once you smell the kibble, you can't help but eat all of it... And then there's no question about it: I'm the worse dog."
Added Buster: "No, the dog on that bag would never eat himself sick and then make a mess on the floor."
Buster noted the gracefulness of the golden retriever's movements.
"Aw Jeez, look at him go," Buster said. "I can't even shamble up the stairs without tripping. That dog looks so confident and intelligent. Meanwhile, I still fall for the old fake stick toss half the time."
A fit, attractive woman in her 30s accompanies the golden retriever on the Dog Chow bag. According to Buster, the tall, upright-walking woman looks uncannily like his owner's wife.
"I look at the bag, and I think, 'That looks like Susan, all right, but that dog sure doesn't look like me,'" said Buster, a hint of a growl in his throat. "I have to wonder if Susan sees the bag and thinks the same thing. When we're out on walks, is she embarrassed to be seen with me?"
"I love my human family with all my heart," Buster added. "They deserve the dog from that bag."
Elaine Thannum, a noted animal behaviorist and author of The Breeding Myth, said that idealized media images contribute to self-esteem problems among pets.
"Unfortunately, the inadequacy Buster is feeling is common among normal, everyday dogs," Thannum said. "No matter how much their families love them, regular dogs can't help but be affected by the unrealistic images shoved down their throats by dog-food companies like Purina, Cycle, and Iams. Dogs like Buster need to understand that if they were to meet the supposedly perfect animals they see on the food bag, they'd see and smell dogs with a lot of the same problems they have."
Los Angeles-based purebred Troubadour's Golden Dawn appears on millions of Purina Dog Chow bags, as well as a Clarinex print ad and packages of Nylabone chew toys.
"Let me tell you, it is not easy being me," Troubadour's Golden Dawn said. "Do you know what it's like to have judges and photographers poking and prodding you all day long? What I wouldn't give to have a fun, playful family. I'd roll over and play dead to be able to eat Purina-brand Dog Chow, instead of that all-natural, vitamin-flavored concoction I have to choke down."
"And believe me," the 3-year-old golden retriever added, "you don't want to get me started about what it feels like to have to compete for jobs with that nippy little blond bitch on the Puppy Chow bag."
Dress-Up Doll Born To Area Couple
NEW YORK—Two years ago, Manhattan married couple Ron Garver and Becky Meyers weren't sure they were cut out for parenting. They worked long hours, had a thriving social life, and their East Village apartment was small and cramped. But 24 months and 73 outfits later, Garver and Meyers are the proud parents of a 10-month-old dress-up doll.
Garver and Meyers display their child.
"I didn't think I was ready for a baby," Meyers said Monday. "In my mind, Ron and I were too irresponsible. But next thing you know, I'm pregnant and we're buying sundresses, headbands, little Converse sneakers—you know, I was doing all the important things you need to do in preparation for a baby."
Meyers said she began to read everything she could get her hands on, from catalogs to articles on nursery decorating.
"I was so relieved when our little girl arrived in perfect health," Meyers said. "It's almost impossible to find cute outfits for preemies."
Since their baby's birth, Garver, a staff writer for New York magazine, and Meyers, who works in acquisitions at a small film company, have spent nearly 30 percent of their income on baby clothes.
"We don't just buy anything, though," Garver said. "It has to be something that's missing from her wardrobe. Last week, I got Daddy's little girl a little Knicks jersey to wear to the games. Everyone thinks it's adorable. She's already been on the Jumbotron!"
Garver said his daughter is not always in an athletic mood.
"Did you know they sell Clash shirts for babies?" Garver said. "Everyone at work gets such a kick out of my little punk!"
After Meyers gave birth to the baby, she said she had to adjust to the "full-time job" of primping their child for display.
"For a while, we never got any sleep!" Meyers said. "She'd wake up in the middle of the night, and we'd have to get up, take her out of her sleeper, put her in her breakfast PJs, and feed her. Sometimes, I barely had the energy to plan her outfits for the next day."
"Having a child is a lot of work," Meyers added. "Coming up with the idea to dress your baby like a farmer, a police officer, or even a little sunflower is difficult enough on its own. But if she's sleepy or fussy, it can take a half an hour to dress her. Still, when you hear the coos of the neighbors who see her in the Baby Jogger, it's all worth it."
Meyers and Garver's child photographed throughout the day Monday.
Garver and Meyers have discovered many unexpected responsibilities, such as making sure that their daughter is bundled up in an adorable snowsuit when it's cold.
"Every trip outside requires a hundred decisions," Meyers said. "Should she wear her bear coat or her cute red-velvet Santa jacket? Is today a bunn
y-ears kind of a day, or does it feel like more of a plaid-wool-cap morning? Sometimes, if our social calendar requires it, we have to pull together three or four outfits in a single day."
The baby does not always wear special outfits, however.
"If we're spending the night in, she might just lounge around in a Nike sweatsuit, some grubby old T-shirt from two months ago, and one of those sweaters Grandma sent," Garver said.
Garver and Meyers said they had to make some sacrifices after they became parents.
"We've had to make some changes in order to save money," Meyers said. "But we've learned to rely on accessories to freshen up a look. And we keep an eye out for sales. It takes a bit more time than just heading to Macy's, but we've scored some really great little sunglasses and backpacks. Nothing is too much for our little doll."
Even though she spends a great deal of time shopping for her baby, Meyers said she believes that the best gift she can give her daughter is her time and attention.
"Just last week, I thought, 'Wouldn't it be cute if I took a picture of her on the phone?'" Meyers said. "I spent an hour figuring out how to strap her hand to the telephone. Then, I had to make it look like she was talking by giving her a little baby food to chew on. If you snapped the photo at the right moment, it totally looked like she was talking on the phone. My sister told me I was crazy, but I said 'You just wait until you see the photo!'"
Garver and Meyers said that, in spite of the financial and social sacrifices they have had to make, they have "never once regretted the decision to keep the baby."
"This isn't about Becky and me," Garver said. "This is about building our child's self-esteem, because we love her. Which reminds me, we're really looking forward to Valentine's Day. We found an adorable pink dress with little wings on the back for our little Cupid. How can she not be happy with all the attention everyone will give her? Plus, her hair's finally growing in, so we can stop using the hats. She never seemed to like those."
