Catsimiditis the Blobfish - Growls at Google

His last name was hard to pronounce. "Just call me CATS," the campaign leaflets said.

How about Blobfish? When NYC voters got a good look at the billionaire running to replace billionaire Mike Bloomberg, most laughed.

John Catsimiditis is an easy name to remember really, if you think of it more as "Cats on my Titties." He made his fortune running a chain of rather dirty-looking and high-priced supermarkets. He branched out into real estate, always a good idea, and other fat-cat ventures. You have to admit, the pious (Greek Orthodox) guy who grew up in Harlem with nothing, IS a success. He insisted that like Bloomberg, if he had the skills to make and keep his huge fortune, he could run a city.

Just on face alone, he was the funniest thing about the mayoral primaries (which have ended with the sobering fact that it'll be Lhota vs De Blasio battling each other till the election in November. Mayor Bloomberg is not endorsing either.)

While there were plenty of Wiener jokes aimed at the crotchety congressman who was wanking via texts and phone calls, there was nothing very funny about it. Pardon the digression, but for those who don't know, Anthony Weiner was one of the few (among 9) candidates who actually had a platform, and had printed out a document of all of his ideas and proposals for the city. His comeback from resigning after accidentally Tweeting a crotch shot to one of his sexting partners (the guy is married to an Arab) was unlikely but successful. Until...opportunist-whore "Sydney Leathers" refreshed the scandal and cost him the election just so she could get her 15 minutes of fame.

She also got breast implants, invaded New York to haunt any place Weiner was campaigning to promote a softcore porn-stream she made, and told anyone who wasn't busy with a Kardashian that she hoped for a big career as a porn star. She primped and preened and posed and gloated...which was a far cry from when she first grabbed headlines claiming to be heartbroken that he didn't love her and just liked phone sex. It turned out, she was hooking lots of influential guys with free phone sex hoping for a payoff with somebody rich or famous. Unfortunately by the time people found out the truth on Ms. Leathers, they were turned off completely to Wiener for lying about swearing off sexting and phone sex after his resignation. It turned out, he couldn't stop "cold jerky," and from leading in the polls, he ended up finishing nearly last.

Back to Cats...

Well, voters just saw a coarse-looking rich guy trying to buy an election. "Cats on my Titties" finished out of the money.

Now that "Cats" has lost, he's got his lawyers to whine to Google about a YouTube video and demand to know who posted it.

Uh, "Cats on my Titties," you are dealing with Cunts and Assholes, and you don't have more money than they do!

First off, let's use the defense of hackers and Assange. Assuming the YouTube video said anything libelous, so what! Call it "freedom of speech." Call it, as the pfishers who steal your bank or Rapidshare account do: a "spoof." Assange would tell you that anybody can leak anything and let the public choose to believe it or not. Oh yes, and the Swedish meatballs of Pirate Bay, and the jerky bloggers who give away entire Beach Boys and Jethro Tull discographies, would simply say "Don't ruin our fun!"

A good lawyer would seriously say, "Mr. Titties...you can't milk this. What are your damages? You can't show up in court claiming a video nobody saw cost you the election!" But that's a good lawyer...and there are few of them. Most are glad to take your money no matter how foolish your case, and pile up the billing hours

Mr. Titties was amusing, if rather disgusting to look at. He's still amusing in one way. He's going to prove that no matter how much money a private citizen has, it doesn't matter to Google and their empire. It takes a pretty violent and hateful personal attack via a Blogspot blog to get Google to even take it down, much less spill a number and not a name (ie, the number that could lead to the perp's ISP, who in turn might not turn over a name, just shrug that it was a "spoof" account).

Same deal on YouTube. At best, the item is pulled. And it hasn't been. Go prove that the remarks are libelous, go prove your trademark has been violated...go file a DMCA and have it rejected.

Most of what was on the YouTube video seems to be true. Mr. Titties is pretty dumb to call attention to it, as it confirms what most believe...that no "Fat Cat" gets to be a billionaire without dirty tricks, cutting corners, playing hardball, or bullying his employees. I mean, in his supermarkets a "sale price" on an item is often still higher than his competition!

Bottom line, I think he should now muscle in on the territory of the Larry Flynt Hustler "Gentleman's Club" and "Flashdancers" and other lap dancer scam joints around town. Start a chain of "Cats on my Titties" bars. The girls dance while holding a pussy cat. For $200 you go into a private room and she takes away that cat and shows her pussy. Meanwhile you buy her a bottle of champagne that they charge your credit card another $500 for. And if you authorize another $1,000 for a tip, the girl might lap up a little cream. Hopefully yours, and not the past-expiration overpriced pint you might find at the Fat Cat's supermarket.