Daily Briefs: God hates seasoned curlies. PLUS: The regional light-rail initiative is leaving the station.

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Hey hey, ho ho! These factory overstock 2007 Malibus have got to go: As of 9 a.m., the United Auto Workers union local are on strike at the General Motors Fairfax plant. American consumers have been on strike from buying General Motors cars for quite a few years, so SOLIDARITY, NORMA RAE! This is about local contract issues or something? All I know is, DOWN WITH MANAGEMENT!

Tornado season is the Shark Week of Tornado Alley: So, there’s been some blatant meteorological revisionism with regard to that one storm last week that woke up everyone I know and destroyed an Arby’s in Independence. Since Thursday, it’s been upgraded from “straight-line winds” to “a tornado,” to “Hurricane Condoleezza,” and then downgraded right back to “regular-type tornado.” To the Katie Horners and Brian Busbys of the world, I say: There’s nothing wrong with your high-definition Doppler Radar. There’s something wrong with your progressive-scan 1080p heart. Somewhere along the line, you lost the passion you had when you were young, brash meteorologists and now it’s all about the Spendjamins, just admit it.

I think it’s obvious what happens when we have too many Lord Xenu engrams in our bodies: Bad weather. Audit or die, preclears! Or, as John McCain-endorsing Rev. John Hagee would say, Jesus hates all the homosexual shift supervisors. Plus, the jamocha shake is totally an abomination according to Leviticus. If that doesn’t put the fear of God in your heart, then look at this photoset with particular attention to the shot of the Arby’s dining room exposed to the sky and tell me how much God loves the Big Roast Beef with extra horsey sauce.

Wishing in one hand and urban planning in the other: Political leaders in three counties have inserted their sausage-sized fingers up oversized novelty Mayor Mark Funkhouser’s light-rail proposal, and the prognosis isn’t good. The Mayor would, ideally, like to have his plan on the November ballot on account of all the young idealists who would show up to vote under one particular set of circumstances. By which I obviously mean as long as the Democratic nominee isn’t a power-hungry, war-voting old former first lady. If Hillary Clinton is the nominee, it’s time to get your geriatric reparations ballot initiative moving, because to quote 19th century UK Poet Laureate Alfred Lord Tennyson, her nondairy powdered creamer brings all the olds to the yard.

Light rail! Where was I? It would be nice to have regional light rail, because, as a nexus for pickpockets and ass-groping pervs who pretend they’re just trying to pick your pocket, it would make Kansas City feel much more cosmopolitan — a town everyone could be happy to jump a turnstile in. Sentence-ending preposition sponsored with limited commercial interruption by the McDonald’s Dollar Menu: the kind of food McDonald’s can sell for a dollar and still make a profit. And then your body will attempt to use it to make heart valves. McDonald’s! For a dollar! I’m lovin’ it.

I am a ghastly troll-person: There’s a new trailer for The Dark Knight that only serves to emphasize that Aaron Eckhart has raised the standard for male handsomeness to such an unattainably high level that I now have to measure my own attractiveness against things like industrial blight and unallayed human suffering. I’m much better looking than food shortages in Southeast Asia! Here’s the trailer, ugly:

Categories: News