TOKYO (Reuters) - Police found more than 4,000 pieces of lingerie in the home of a Japanese construction worker who used climbing skills developed on his job to steal women's underwear.
Police believe that Shigeo Kodama, 54, amassed the 3,977 panties, 355 bras and 10 pairs of stockings over a six-year period. He was arrested in February after he stole underwear from two houses, and police later raided his home.
"Since he was a construction worker, as long as he had a place to put his feet he was able to climb, so he had no trouble getting up to the second floor of apartment buildings," a police spokesman in the western Japanese city of Hiroshima said.
"He didn't steal any other kinds of clothing. But as long as it was underwear, apparently anything would do," the spokesman added.
Police believe that Shigeo Kodama, 54, amassed the 3,977 panties, 355 bras and 10 pairs of stockings over a six-year period. He was arrested in February after he stole underwear from two houses, and police later raided his home.
"Since he was a construction worker, as long as he had a place to put his feet he was able to climb, so he had no trouble getting up to the second floor of apartment buildings," a police spokesman in the western Japanese city of Hiroshima said.
"He didn't steal any other kinds of clothing. But as long as it was underwear, apparently anything would do," the spokesman added.
The next story is a bit....YIKES!
ZIMNITSY, Russia (Reuters) - Friday is when the action happens in this isolated Russian village, six hours' drive north from Moscow along icy roads, past smoggy industrial towns and through vast pine forests.
That's the day the mobile shop makes its weekly visit selling life's little luxuries to Zimnitsy's 10 inhabitants.
"I've bought bread, frozen fish, cigarettes and vodka," said 53-year-old Vitaly as he bent over to load his tattered rucksack. "What more can a Russian want?"
Village life in Russia seems to have been dragged unwillingly into the 21st century.
Zimnitsy once was three or four times bigger and boasted its own full-time shop, but the crumbling wooden houses now bear silent witness to a population movement away from Russia's countryside into the cities.
Alcoholism, devout religious faith and a sense of scratching a living on the fringes of civilisation -- the hallmarks of the Russian countryside down the ages -- linger, sometimes just below the surface.
Vitaly looked up and grinned from beneath his ragged fur hat and grubby, thick-rimmed glasses. He wasn't finished yet: "I know English," he said and stood up straight. "To be or not to be, that is the question!" he bellowed, evidence that Shakespeare has penetrated even rural Russia.
The four people in the queue for the green goods lorry in the centre of the village took no notice, concentrating instead on keeping their positions in the line.
They stamped their felt boots to keep warm. Temperatures of around 20 degrees Celsius (4 degrees Fahrenheit) below zero froze their breath.
SICKLY AFTER-TASTE
Some, though, have chosen to move here. In one house, Sergei Kopylov was philosophising: "It's better to be first here than second in St Petersburg," he said.
He reached for a large clear bottle and poured another glass of samogon -- the Russian word for homebrewed alcohol.
Kopylov is 50 years old. But his long unkempt beard, unwashed hair, gaunt features and heavily lined face made him look 20 or 30 years older.
"To Russia," he said and slugged the clear samogon down his throat. Fermented from cow's milk, it is stronger than vodka and leaves a sickly after-taste.
Kopylov's cracked, dirty fingers lifted a fork full of iced cabbage to his mouth which he swallowed to wash away the taste.
It was midday and Kopylov was in fine mood. Five shots of samogon had jollied him and he had stocked up on sausages and fish from the mobile shop.
He shares his house with four cats, three dogs, his speechless father and his girlfriend, Tatyana. He used to live in cramped communal accommodation in St Petersburg but gave it up for a quieter life in the countryside.
Dirt coated the wooden interior walls of the house and a wood fire kept the place warm.
An energy-saving electric light bulb dangling by a single wire from the ceiling, a digital clock flickering in the corner and a mobile phone hanging by its cord from a nail in the wall were the only modern intrusions into the 19th-century scene.
Further down the lane an old woman lives alone in a spartan wooden shack, Kopylov said. She spends her days praying, collecting fire wood or drawing water from a well.
DACHNIKI AS SAVIOURS
Russia is growing rich on from its minerals and energy resources. Moscow's streets are jammed with the latest Western cars and European chefs cook up fancy dishes in the restaurants.
Along the shores of Lake Seliger, just six km (four miles) through the woods from Zimnitsy, the Dacha or holiday home is returning. Muscovites and others -- known as Dachniki -- are either buying old houses or building new ones.
After a post-Soviet Union slump, the villages around popular beauty spots are returning to life.
"The Dachniki have been our saviour," said Viktor Vinogradov, who has lived in Priozyornaya on the lake all his life. He fishes and builds houses for the Dachniki. "They come here with their money and spend it."
Back in Zimnitsy, Kopylov had been showing off by thrashing his sleigh, pulled by a ragged-looking horse, through the snow.
He marched into his house primed for another shot of samogon.
"You can't just understand Russia with your head," he said. "You have to understand it with your heart."
That's the day the mobile shop makes its weekly visit selling life's little luxuries to Zimnitsy's 10 inhabitants.
"I've bought bread, frozen fish, cigarettes and vodka," said 53-year-old Vitaly as he bent over to load his tattered rucksack. "What more can a Russian want?"
Village life in Russia seems to have been dragged unwillingly into the 21st century.
Zimnitsy once was three or four times bigger and boasted its own full-time shop, but the crumbling wooden houses now bear silent witness to a population movement away from Russia's countryside into the cities.
Alcoholism, devout religious faith and a sense of scratching a living on the fringes of civilisation -- the hallmarks of the Russian countryside down the ages -- linger, sometimes just below the surface.
Vitaly looked up and grinned from beneath his ragged fur hat and grubby, thick-rimmed glasses. He wasn't finished yet: "I know English," he said and stood up straight. "To be or not to be, that is the question!" he bellowed, evidence that Shakespeare has penetrated even rural Russia.
The four people in the queue for the green goods lorry in the centre of the village took no notice, concentrating instead on keeping their positions in the line.
They stamped their felt boots to keep warm. Temperatures of around 20 degrees Celsius (4 degrees Fahrenheit) below zero froze their breath.
SICKLY AFTER-TASTE
Some, though, have chosen to move here. In one house, Sergei Kopylov was philosophising: "It's better to be first here than second in St Petersburg," he said.
He reached for a large clear bottle and poured another glass of samogon -- the Russian word for homebrewed alcohol.
Kopylov is 50 years old. But his long unkempt beard, unwashed hair, gaunt features and heavily lined face made him look 20 or 30 years older.
"To Russia," he said and slugged the clear samogon down his throat. Fermented from cow's milk, it is stronger than vodka and leaves a sickly after-taste.
Kopylov's cracked, dirty fingers lifted a fork full of iced cabbage to his mouth which he swallowed to wash away the taste.
It was midday and Kopylov was in fine mood. Five shots of samogon had jollied him and he had stocked up on sausages and fish from the mobile shop.
He shares his house with four cats, three dogs, his speechless father and his girlfriend, Tatyana. He used to live in cramped communal accommodation in St Petersburg but gave it up for a quieter life in the countryside.
Dirt coated the wooden interior walls of the house and a wood fire kept the place warm.
An energy-saving electric light bulb dangling by a single wire from the ceiling, a digital clock flickering in the corner and a mobile phone hanging by its cord from a nail in the wall were the only modern intrusions into the 19th-century scene.
Further down the lane an old woman lives alone in a spartan wooden shack, Kopylov said. She spends her days praying, collecting fire wood or drawing water from a well.
DACHNIKI AS SAVIOURS
Russia is growing rich on from its minerals and energy resources. Moscow's streets are jammed with the latest Western cars and European chefs cook up fancy dishes in the restaurants.
Along the shores of Lake Seliger, just six km (four miles) through the woods from Zimnitsy, the Dacha or holiday home is returning. Muscovites and others -- known as Dachniki -- are either buying old houses or building new ones.
After a post-Soviet Union slump, the villages around popular beauty spots are returning to life.
"The Dachniki have been our saviour," said Viktor Vinogradov, who has lived in Priozyornaya on the lake all his life. He fishes and builds houses for the Dachniki. "They come here with their money and spend it."
Back in Zimnitsy, Kopylov had been showing off by thrashing his sleigh, pulled by a ragged-looking horse, through the snow.
He marched into his house primed for another shot of samogon.
"You can't just understand Russia with your head," he said. "You have to understand it with your heart."
He's been a busy little beaver!
An American music producer has reportedly stunned a judge by revealing he is set to have six children this year - by six different women.
Ricky Lackey was being sentenced for attempted theft in Cincinnati, Ohio, when Hamilton County common pleas judge Melba Marsh asked how many children he had.
According to the Cincinnati Enquirer, she was confused when the 25-year-old replied: "None, but I have six on the way."
Not the sharpest stick in the forest:
Woman held in drug deal bust Wednesday March 14, 04:26 AM
A woman from Oklahoma has been arrested after arranging to meet up with a man she thought was a drug dealer, but was in fact a police officer who had previously arrested her son.
Police Lieutenant Mike Woodruff said the woman, Ramona Williams, 42, called him because her son had told her if she ever needed help with anything to give him a call. Woodruff added: "I think she misunderstood. She thought she was talking to a drug dealer."
Woodruff said he played along and set up a meeting between her and an undercover officer. She and an alleged accomplice were arrested.
A woman from Oklahoma has been arrested after arranging to meet up with a man she thought was a drug dealer, but was in fact a police officer who had previously arrested her son.
Police Lieutenant Mike Woodruff said the woman, Ramona Williams, 42, called him because her son had told her if she ever needed help with anything to give him a call. Woodruff added: "I think she misunderstood. She thought she was talking to a drug dealer."
Woodruff said he played along and set up a meeting between her and an undercover officer. She and an alleged accomplice were arrested.
German police rescue 91-year-old man glued to roof
BERLIN (Reuters) - A 91-year-old German sparked a rescue operation when he slipped mending his roof and got stuck fast in tar "like a beetle on its back", police said on Tuesday.
Passers-by were so shocked to see the elderly handyman working on the roof they first thought he was planning to commit suicide, according to police in the eastern city of Magdeburg.
"In fact he was just re-coating the roofing with bitumen. But then he slipped," said a spokesman for police.
"When we got there, he was like a beetle on its back, with his arms and legs sprawled out and completely glued to the roof," he added. "Due to his age, he couldn't free himself from his unfortunate situation."
Local firemen carefully detached the man using ropes and ladders. He was unharmed, but had sticky clothes, police said.
BERLIN (Reuters) - A 91-year-old German sparked a rescue operation when he slipped mending his roof and got stuck fast in tar "like a beetle on its back", police said on Tuesday.
Passers-by were so shocked to see the elderly handyman working on the roof they first thought he was planning to commit suicide, according to police in the eastern city of Magdeburg.
"In fact he was just re-coating the roofing with bitumen. But then he slipped," said a spokesman for police.
"When we got there, he was like a beetle on its back, with his arms and legs sprawled out and completely glued to the roof," he added. "Due to his age, he couldn't free himself from his unfortunate situation."
Local firemen carefully detached the man using ropes and ladders. He was unharmed, but had sticky clothes, police said.
An online gambling site is inviting macabre bets on whether Heather Mills' prosthetic leg will fall off during her participation in US television show "Dancing with the Stars."
The Antigua-based Bodog.com is inviting punters to lay money on whether Mills, the estranged wife of Beatle Sir Paul McCartney who lost her leg in a 1993 traffic accident, would suffer a mishap in the show.
The site made a "No" outcome the heavy favorite, and said Mills's leg "must fall off, not be purposely taken off, during a dance routine for all 'Yes' wagers to be graded a win."
Other bets on the site included: "Will a contestant throw up on stage during American Idol 6?"
The fourth season of "Dancing with the Stars," in which couples -- a star and a professional dancer -- compete, is scheduled to begin on March 19 with a line-up of 11 celebrities.
Former model Mills told syndicated US celebrity TV show Extra last week that she wanted to show people that "even with a prosthetic leg you can dance."
"It's very unlikely my leg's going to fly off even though it would be quite funny to knock one of the judges out," Mills told an interviewer.
Mills and McCartney announced their separation in May 2006 after four years of marriage and the birth of a daughter. The couple's impending divorce has generated a slew of mutual accusations and bitter fighting.
That's it for now.
Hope this raised a smile
T
No comments:
Post a Comment