Fullerton, California When I came across this little story I immediately started reflecting on hilarious but somewhat gross times on my old college campus. I’m sure you all have witnessed similar situations, perhaps even been among the unfortunate. Back in those days, we could actually smoke in buildings…way before the tobacco Nazi’s came in and ruined everything. Anyway, the scene is set: lots of drinking, lots of smoking, very few ashtrays to go around. Abandoned or empty beer cans were often used as a replacement, or plastic cups with a swallow or two of beer left in the bottom. By this time of evening, the conversations were intense and loud because everyone knows the ability to hear oneself speak while intoxicated is damn near impossible. It rarely failed, someone would be so adamant about convincing a group of people they had all the answers while grabbing their beverage without looking, taking a big gulp, only to find it was someone’s ashtray after it was way too late. Sometimes they’d puke. Sometimes they wish they’d puke. It was usually after finding out they’d just swallowed a mouthful of someone’s spit. Everyone else would laugh their ass off but I can pretty much guarantee those containers were never maliciously planted. And I can also pretty much guarantee none of those containers were blatantly jacked off in and served.
Meet Michael Kevin Lallana, the sick son of a bitch who, not once but “allegedly” twice targeted a female co-worker at Northwestern Mutual Mortgage Company. The first incident was in January. She returned to her office, took a swig out of her water bottle and after a fashion, felt ill. The second incident happened about three months later, in April. But this time, after feeling ill, the female sent the bottle of water off to a private lab to be tested, two months later she received the results. I’m betting she was waiting on being able to boast she’d ingested toxic chemicals from the water and was banking on a nice lawsuit. I doubt very seriously she was prepared for the findings given to her.
“Ma’am. We have enclosed the results from the water bottle we tested in out facility. We’ve also included a self-addressed stamped envelope in hopes you’ll be kind enough to send us an 8×10 colored glossy picture of yourself for our lab. One taken after you’ve just finished your yogurt lunch (and before you’ve wiped your mouth or brushed your teeth) would be preferred and very much appreciated. Thank you in advance. Lab results are as follows: H2O – 75% Semen – 25%. We’re so sorry you got ill, but what a sport. Sincerely, lonely lab techs who only dream of people like you.”
While that’s not the actual report she received, I’m pretty sure someone privy to that information there wanted to send something like that. What is true: this woman drank enough of Michael’s diluted baby gravy that she became ill to the point of paying to find out what was in that water. But I’m dying to know if she took a drink, thought it tasted funny, then took a few more drinks convincing herself it tasted funny. Then got her girlfriend to taste it too. Because you know, some office chicks can’t come to a conclusion themselves. They need a consensus. “Here, take a drink. Swish it around your mouth a few times, gargle and swallow. Tastes funny, doesn’t it?”
Michael Lallana (31) was linked through DNA and was arrested outside his home and charged with two misdemeanor counts each of releasing an offensive material in a public place and assault, with sentencing allegations for committing a crime for sexual gratification. Hell yeah. I bet he was lurking around the corner of her office just working himself into another episode as he watched her slowly unscrew the lid, hold the bottle to her lips, and take a long draw off the phallic-shaped container. And somewhere in a lab, while 99% of the men are waiting for the morning’s mail, the one hold-out is sitting on his little perch, decked out in his starched white lab-coat, holding the bottle to his lips with his pinky held high in the air, claiming the water didn’t taste strange to him.