The community in Farmingdale, New York, is shocked after an unidentified man allegedly jumped in front of moving train shortly after viciously beheading a woman nearby.
Citing unidentified sources, WPIX-TV reports the body of a beheaded woman was discovered in Faramingdale near the Long Island Rail Road station.
Police in Nassau County confirmed the potential suicide on the LIRR tracks, but did not confirm that the death is connected to the beheading.
There was no clear connection between the deadly incident and terrorism as of Tuesday night.
However, law enforcement sources reportedly told NBC New York that police are investigating the incident as a murder-suicide. The sources confirmed a woman in her 60s was found with her head severed outside a Farmingdale apartment.
Officials reportedly believe the man found dead on the LIRR tracks could be the deceased woman’s son.
LIRR also confirmed on Twitter that an “unauthorized person” was struck by a train, delaying the Ronkonkoma line.
Three-year-old Lyonya Shilovsky, from Novosibirsk in Russia, held his own with an adult orchestra as he drummed along to a rousing rendition of Jacques Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, commonly known as the “Can-Can”.
Enjoy!
You’re never too young to follow your dreams.
While his peers are still busy banging on pots and pans, this 3-year-old is playing the drums with an adult orchestra — and holding his own during Offenbach’s “Orpheus in the Underworld” (otherwise known as the “Can-Can”).
Sure, he needs his dad to help him recover when a drumstick flies out of his hand, but the pint-size musician barely misses a beat.
A domesticated baby donkey named Dementia, lovingly nuzzles the hand of her her human friend Tom Nutter as the two of them snuggle together on the sofa.
Dementia is a baby donkey that is getting a lot of love from her parents and from her human friends! When she made her regular visit to Terri and Tom Nutter’s home on October 15, she was welcomed onto the couch and given a long cuddle.
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying, “Hello.”I politely said, “This is Jim. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?” Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear “Get the right f***ing number!” and the phone was slammed down on me.
I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked down Robyn’s correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, “You’re an asshole!” and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re an asshole!” It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic ‘asshole’ calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I’m calling to see if you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?” He yelled, “NO!” and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re an asshole!” and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking Spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a “For Sale” sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had is number on speed dial) I thought that I’d better call the BMW asshole, too.
I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?” He said, “Yes, it is.” I asked, “Can you tell me where I can see it?” He said, “Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. It’s a yellow ranch, and the car’s parked right out in front.”
I asked, “What’s your name?” He said, “My name is Don Hansen,” I asked, “When’s a good time to catch you, Don?” He said, “I’m home every evening after five.”
I said, “Listen, Don, can I tell you something?”
He said, “Yes?”
I said, “Don, you’re an asshole!”
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1. He said, “Hello.” I said, “You’re an asshole!” (But I didn’t hang up.) He asked, “Are you still there?” I said, “Yeah,” He screamed, “Stop calling me,” I said, “Make me,” He asked, “Who are you?” I said, “My name is Don Hansen.” He said, “Yeah? Where do you live?” I said, “Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ranch, I have a black Beamer parked in front.” He said, “I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.” I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole,” and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2. He said, “Hello?” I said, “Hello, asshole,” He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are…” I said, “You’ll what?” He exclaimed, “I’ll kick your ass,” I answered, “Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 10 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd. in Fairfax.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax. I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
