Jane Fonda

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The Week’s Most Gladdening, Saddening, and March Maddening Headlines

GLADYS KNIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD
The 2006 Night of the Living Dead remake features a creepy mortician who’s pathologically afraid of fire. He never cremates bodies; he just lets them pile up until the corpse heap grows to where the entire funeral home becomes strewn with stiffs, which then come into contact with hazardous chemicals, birthing zombies.

The damnedest thing is, that 2006 Night was the only iteration of the classic film to not feature a black lead. And yet, it’s the only version reenacted in real life by blacks.

Heaven Bound Cremation Services is a funeral home in White Plains (ironically majority-black), Maryland. It’s run by black woman Rosa Williams, aka Rosa Turner. And this Rosa “parks” corpses. Like in the movie, she stockpiles them because she’s afraid of fire. She stands accused of improperly storing thousands of bodies that had been scheduled for cremation. The corpses had filled up the cold room so that the doors could no longer be closed. Officials found other bodies “stacked in cardboard boxes and hanging out of ripped body bags.”

And yes, bodies even came into contact with hazardous chemicals, because Rosa stored them in “biohazard receptacles.”

She literally did the movie. All that’s missing is the zombies, but one look at Rosa’s face (click here, if you dare), that visage would scare the living dead straight back to hell.

Rosa gave away the game by calling her business Heaven Bound. As in, getting there, but not yet, because Rosa can’t stop using your stank-ass dead grandma as a futon.

Bereaved relatives who’d entrusted their loved ones to Heaven Bound did receive ashes, and nobody knows exactly what those ashes were.

C’mon, it’s a black business. They might not have cooked the dead, but you know they was cookin’ ribs!

Heaven Bound: The corpses are room temperature, but the fries are hot!

FOOD FOLLIES
Sticking with the food theme…

In Conway, S.C., a meek little white man (identified in the press only as “George”) and his wife were at Walmart stocking up on mayo. Approaching the register, they saw a huge black fellow, Jeremiah Harris, straddling two lines, because reparations or something. George politely asked Jeremiah which line he was in, and if there’s one thing Jeremiah Harris don’t abide, it’s a white man talkin’ to him. So Harris took a bag of frozen pizza rolls and beat poor George into unconsciousness.

George fell like a Domino’s as he got Pizza Hurt by Pop-a-John. Vicious blows to the skull gave George Little Seizures that made him Shakey with a Sbarrochnoid hemorrhage.

George survived, and Harris is in a cell being treated to extra sausage.

Meanwhile in Brazil, a woman baked a cake for her family using a very special ingredient—arsenic. Killed were Tatiana Denize Silva dos Anjos, Maida Berenice Flores da Silva, and Neuza Denize Silva dos Anjos. Thrilled is the local headstone engraver, who’ll make a bundle on overtime because of those long-ass names.

The Brazilian press (aka the teen favela rent boy who knows how to use Word) reports that last week the killer offed herself in jail. Turns out she’d murdered other relatives in years past, albeit one by one. That’s how crappy Brazil is…you can get away with murder, as long as you pace yourself. But three at once? Even Brazil’s top detective (aka the teen favela rent boy who saw a Columbo episode) can crack that one.

Finally, 27-year-old Instagram influencer (6 million followers) Carol Acosta, known for her videos on “fat positivity,” experienced fat negativity when she choked to death while stuffing her bloated face at a New York restaurant. Acosta, whose influencer handle was “Killadamente,” became Killed-amente thanks to a turkey leg and eyes too big for her esophagus.

True to form, before dying Acosta left one final Yelp review…giving the restaurant a one-star aspi-rating.

THE UNHOLY SPIRIT
Air traffic control? More like hair traffic control. Last week at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, the planes weren’t flying, but the weaves were, as terminally illin’ black passengers erupted into a massive brawl at the gate while awaiting a Spirit Airlines flight.

If they ain’t fightin’ over fryers, they fightin’ over fliers.

Spirit caters to the economically challenged, but some claim that its recently christened “bid’ness class” seating, complete with free menthols and a pledge that the plane won’t fly over water, is attracting the wrong element.

Police responded to the melee, but by the time they arrived, the boarding horde had cleared out. It’s a testament to the state of air travel in the U.S. that as planes are falling out of the sky, leading to widespread concern about the safety of air travel, in 48 percent black Atlanta, passengers now have to worry about not just the safety of the flight but the safety of the terminal.

And while the $2-an-hour H-1B Indian immigrants who handle safety for Boeing have proved unable to come up with fixes for the rash of recent crashes (the best suggestions they can muster? “Poop flowing through the aisles is a natural cushion in case of a crash,” and “Have you considered jet engines that don’t burn fuel but brides?”), there may be a solution to the growing problem of blacks brawling in terminals (the Atlanta fight follows similar incidents in Chicago and Dallas/Fort Worth). Ultra-low-cost Ryanair, long seeking access to U.S. markets, is thinking of rebranding as Fryinair, the hot-fries airline. After all, who knows potatoes better than the Irish? And in case a brawl does break out, American blacks can’t hold a candle to whiskey-drenched micks.

In the meantime, authorities in urban cities recommend that travelers eschew airports for the safety of subways, where large unwieldy brawls are less common because homeless schizos prefer the one-on-one approach when it comes to pushing people onto the tracks.

SAGGY BOOB
Jane Fonda was born via cesarean section, so she literally entered the world as a shrill, whiny annoyance clawing her way through the torn flesh of others. And last week, this entitled afterbirth of “Hollywood royalty” was honored with a lifetime achievement award by the Screen Actors Guild.

Fonda—who once described herself as a “small-c communist”—is known for posing with a Vietcong antiaircraft gun during the Vietnam War. And to be fair, that does make her somewhat unique among lefty actors; she supports the right to bear arms (for commies only).

Also, she was filmed while brandishing a large weapon without shooting two innocent bystanders in the belly. So she’s one up on Alec Baldwin.

During her SAG acceptance speech, Fonda extolled the virtues of “woke”: “Woke just means you give a damn about other people.”

Indeed, “small-c communists” always give a damn about other people. What were the gulags if not a massive indication of just how much of a damn communists give?

To be clear, Fonda has long expressed regret about smiling and clapping as the Vietcong shot down American pilots, but she claims she was “set up” because she hadn’t been aware of her Vietnamese hosts’ intentions in placing her in that propaganda photo.

Not being aware of Asian intentions? This admission of yellow inscrutability might be the only honest thing Fonda’s ever said.

Still, she’s always remained a committed leftist. In her 1985 autobiography she wrote “I supported Huey Newton and the Panthers from their earliest days.” Unfortunately, due to a miscommunication at the time, she actually supported Huey Lewis and the News.

And that might be the worst atrocity of all.

BOOK BEAT
Two books were in the news last week, and they make Reading Rainbow seem like Reading Painbow.

First, Donald Trump is furious over the new tell-all book by journalist Michael Wolff (the extra “f” is for “eff you up”). Relying on unnamed sources, Wolff recounts dozens of scurrilous stories from the 2024 campaign trail. So incensed is Trump that he’s threatened to take Wolff to court to make a “NICE NEW LAW” (all-caps his, because of course they are) to punish “defamation.”

Maybe not the best idea at a time when the far-right is accusing Jews of slaughtering babies for Passover ritual sacrifice. For MAGA, making it easier to sue for defamation might be the ultimate case of “be careful what you Jewish for.”

Meanwhile, best-selling children’s author Jennifer Wolfthal was sentenced to twelve years for savagely abusing her own children, leaving them with fractured skulls and damaged internal organs.

Weird there’s no extra “f” in that Wolf.

The bad publicity is making Wolfthal consider a pseudonym for future books: BEATrix Potter, Rolled Dahl, Doctor Noose, J.K. Having-a-Row-ling, Judy Gloom, D.O.A. Milne, and Astrid Lindgroan.

Wolfthal’s book A Real Friend focuses on best friends Benny, who’s white, and Max, who’s black. One day Benny grows annoyed with this friend, who hogs the videogames and never wants to eat what Benny wants to eat. That’s the actual storyline, and Benny’s response, to stop hanging out with Max, is so based it could’ve been written by Jared Taylor. Considering the repercussions of getting into a beef about food with a black kid, Benny did the right thing.

Wolfthal was not sentenced alone; her husband, Joseph, got ten years, or at least that’s what the media claims. There’s no way to view the husband’s mug shot and think it’s a real person; dude looks like Jonah Hill playing “Little Face” from Dick Tracy. Charlie Kirk looks at that guy and says, “What a freak.”

Word has it that the Wolfthals are hard at work on a new children’s coloring book…utilizing black and blue crayons only.