The Indecisive Superhero

Meet Lake county superhero - the waffler, this superhero's super power is the power of vapid indecision. Denizens of the cave knew about this superhero some time ago when we studied fence cowboys but yesterday we received confirmation in spades.

What happened was the shrubber friended a Lake county supervisor, we'll call him Anthony to protect his identity, who was recommended by the Facepage book. Within the hour Anthony unfriended the shrubber in a cruel and callous act of un-friendliness after the shrubber had reached out in an earnest attempt to make new friends.

Thats when we realized Anthony's secret identity. Anthony is the waffler!

The waffler can't decide.

First he deliberated, carefully decided to be the shrubber's friend and clicked on the facepage book wall button making us friends. Then his super power kicked in and he had a change of heart so now the waffler isn't the shrubber's friend anymore.

And that's not all.

Somebody, now I'm not saying it's the waffler, decided to report the shrubber to the facepage book cops and sure enough the shrubber got a nastygram about friending stick in the muds and superheros the shrubber doesn't already know.

Back at the cave we sat around for a while trying to figure out how to make friends if you can't befriend strangers you don't know but all the thinking made us hungry so we popped out some eggos and syrup since we aren't friends with the waffler anymore.

Imagine a world where waffles don't want to be friends.

Then we looked at the wafflers facepage book and saw that the waffler has thousands of friends and got sad because while the waffler clearly isn't all that discriminating about who his friends are he made an example of the shrubber.

Imagine our shame.

I guess the shrubber is a unique and special super villain in the waffler's syrupy, artificial world. Or maybe the waffler is just a douchebag. Then again maybe the waffler's other friends don't like the cave. Whatever the reason its nice to know who the waffler is once and for all.

Are those nunchucka in your pocket or...

I be told Education is good thing. It can make you smell better and knowing how to write is smart. If you read those pee-chee folder deals it can even make you rich if you can afford the loans or know how to avoid paying em. Education can also be a dark, scary thing with unseen terrors so you need to protect yourself from stuff that might happen in a classroom. Like if a team of suicide bombers charged in or maybe the teacher screws with your world view in a poli-sci course.

Don't let people screw with your world view.

Its times like those that you want to be prepared for and Francis gave us all a good lesson on how to equip yourself for a class so you aren't in danger. His favorite plan is to make sure that when the trouble starts he can put an end to it right quick so he goes to class well armed.

Unfortunately he didn't tell anyone he was packing heat and somebody spotted his little secret. Kinda like when he was in court playing gangsta a couple of weeks ago.

Anyway, teacher got wind of it and asked Francis if he was packing but he didn't want to say at first so he got a rap on the knuckles from a ruler before he finally fessed up to carrying his gat in class. Teach told him he needed to get a hall pass for his gat but Francis wasn't paying close enough attention and just sat there like a lump so Teach told him NOW in a raised voice.

All the other kids had a good laugh because girls are better at hiding their weapons in class.

So teach assigned him the walk of shame to the principal's office to see if it was okay to prepare for a gun battle with live ammo in class. Seems Francis didn't appreciate being humiliated by having to follow some stupid rules and when he finally made it back to class he packed up his square pants lunch box and paper mache project and slinked out.

I wonder if he learned anything that day in class.

I'm Legion!

Start the music and sing along!


 

Motherfucker, I'm legion, no, you're not, dude, don't lie
I'm legion, see me drivin' around in a borrowed ride
I'm legion, three quarters of my life gone by
And I met all my friends in my mind

Motherfucker, I'm legion, I will run away from a brawl
I'm legion, there's no voicemail, nobody calls
I'm legion, I can't afford to buy eight-balls
And I talk to myself on my blogging wall

You know my pants are yellow, even though
That went out of style like ten years ago
I got the swagger of a cripple
I got little biceps, getting fatter in the middle

Intellectually I'm far from the best
Physically I've got a tiny chest and yet
So preposterous, feel the legionness
The most obnoxious guest up at the sausage-fest

Motherfucker, I'm legion, I will run away from a brawl
I'm legion, there's no voicemail, nobody calls
I'm legion, I can't afford to buy eight-balls
And I talk to myself on my blogging wall, I'm legion

Check it out, I'm from lake and I don't joke
And I can't think, smoke weed but I can't roll blunts
Find me whipped by my wifey, my neck not icy
Eatin' at McDonalds because Subway's pricey

And my unibrow's plucked
Just asked Tom if I could borrow ten bucks
He's like, "For what? Blunt wraps and some Heinekens?
You skinny prick, go get a gym membership and vitamins"

I'm like, mom, please don't blame it on me
I got my bad habits from you and that cop Uncle Frankie
My attitude's sour but my futon's sweet
And the hair on my ass, it is Jumanji

Suit untailored, ringtone Taylor Swift
Can't tweet up on my twitter 'cause I haven't done shit
Bank account red, body un-groomed
The only good thing about me is I'm unkown

I'm legion, no, you're not, dude, don't lie
I'm legion, see me drivin' around in a borrowed ride
I'm legion, three quarters of my life gone by
And I met all my friends in my mind

County Infestation Test

This test will help you to learn if your county is infested with an invasive species and if you are one.

1) Are you a mussel hiding in some ballast?
2) Did you recently arrive?
3) Do you hold the belief that you are wiser than everyone else?
4) Are you lobbying for tax dollars to pursue your hobby?
5) Do other local residents mock you without reservation?
6) Do you have a propaganda blog?
7) Do you have a radio show with screened calls?
8) Can you tell shit from shinola?
9) Is a significant amount of your time spent defending yourself?
10) Are you beholden to another invasive species?

If you answer True to three or more of these questions you may be a dangerous invasive species and will have to submit to another questionairre.

Squeeleing at the Trough

Lotsa smallish places suffer from carpetbagger syndrome. Folks from outside the area show up and explain to all the locals just how backward they are and set about 'fixing' stuff as quick as they can. Allow me to introduce two such 'fixers' bellying up to the county trough while telling us all what backward hicks we are.

Party on Garth!

That trough can feed plenty and most that feed from it are doing good works while some interlopers are clearly on a wild-eyed money-hungry power grab like feral pigs rooting for the neighbors truffles. But not for these two, Jim and Olga Martin Squeele.

I always wondered why some folks need two last names when most of us only have one, I guess they're just greedy.

These two caped marauders slinked into the county a few years back and have decided that this trough is theirs. They put out the story that they didn't need any money as they are set and into their golden years but instead of using their own means to support their efforts set about slurping at the trough.

First came Olga Squeele, she hooked up with Francis a while back after he burned through a string of campaign managers like a meth infused firebug at a paper factory.

Olga helped steer Francis' campaign to a 'successful' (it all depends on how you define success) win by adopting his tried and true strategy of race card poker with a massive dose of character assassination using his propaganda blog.

Early on, Olga Squeele had the backing of a county supervisor and wrangled herself a post on the planning commission but that didn't interfere with her campaign work and she keeps on campaigning for Francis long after the election. I was pretty sure they knew they'd won but go figure they spend more time on Idiot-point-one now telling us just how fab Francis is than they ever did before the election. Maybe that has something to do with some campaign rules or something like maybe its okay to exploit Idiot-point-one for political purposes AFTER you win an election. Beats me.

Olga spends her time on the radio keeping him calm and screening calls so Francis doesn't have to hear any of the folks who aren't on the same page about what an amazing success he is. Olga, or 'mommy' as Francis calls her, doesn't let anything happen on the show that might cause Francis to have to answer any real questions by answering the phone and keeping Francis on his meds.

Word is Olga Martin Squeele has her sights set on higher office by going after a supervisor's seat in a couple of years but in the meantime she and Jim are hitting the trough hard. Jim scored a sweet deal with the county not long after the election when he was able to convince the BOS posse that he was the best way to stop some kinda lake infestation.

Where's the sourdough?

He says he's a scientist but all he was really able to produce was some kinda test for boat people that shows them what dumb asses they are.

I had my own idea for saving the lake but nobody offered me jack for it. I figure we let the critters get a foot hold then add some garlic and white wine and has ourselves a tasty cioppino. But hell no, all we got was that dumbass test. 

I guess the boat test got skewered, ridiculed and kicked to the curb during a recent BOS meeting that Jim didn't go to but his test's fan club did. Maybe 'fan club' isn't the right phrase...

Anyhow, the whole embarrassing test thing made it into the news and then we all saw that Jim and Olga Martin Squeele are also part of the ministry of misinforation over at Francis' propaganda blog. Those bloggy bloggers of Francis' got their panties in a bunch when they saw the story about what a pompous jerk Jim is and went berzerk over on Francis propaganda blog. I guess Jim got paid 50 large for that test and now its in the dustbin along with Francis' integrity.

The Inside Spelunker

The spelunkers have some major news to share with everyone.

The biggie is that Muabladar has completed his covert op and returned with some serious poop on Francis. Seems that Francis is really paranoid lately and doesn't know who to trust and who might be a double agent.

Sadly for Francis he mistook Muabladar for a mindless drone with a thick accent when all the while Muabladar was taking notes and keeping a close watch on Francis from his post at the jail. Lucky Muabladar got himself a cool gig out at the county hostel and was able to get the real goods directly from the source.


The best part is he gets to keep some of the cool shwag he confiscates during those cavity searches.

After peeping on Francis for months and trying to figure out where Francis kept all the really juicy stuff he noticed that Francis always wears long sleeved shirts and scribbles a lot on his palm. Now that might not seem all that odd but it captured Muabladar's imagination so he crept around trying to get a glimpse up Francis' shirt sleeve without arousing suspicion and shake hands with him a lot to try to get a legible transfer.

The backup plan was to pretend to admire Francis' watch if he noticed Muabladar staring at his shirt sleeves. It worked, Francis really likes it when somebody thinks he made a good decision.

Francis never caught on so Muabladar was able to snoop inside Francis shirt cuffs and noticed some odd looking markings. Best we can tell Francis keeps his deepest darkets secrets scrawled on his forearms in blood. At least that's what Muabladar said.

Once he realized he wasn't just seeing some kinda nasty infection or psoriasis Muabladar started memorizing the letters and making an exact duplicate on his own forearm to bring back to the cave. So then Muabladar had to start wearing long sleeves too otherwise Francis might catch on to the espionage.

Eventually Muabladar had gleaned what he could from Francis' arm and he brought it back here to the cave where we all gasped in horror at the blemishes all over Muabladar's arms.

Who coulda guessed Muabladar was allergic to certain types of ink?

To preserve the message on Muabladar's arm the spelunkers copied all the scribbling on his arm onto his back.

Then his back broke out too and so we had to write that stuff down on a piece of paper. It's pretty amazing how much easier it is to read stuff when it isn't being all oozed up with gooey puss from some nasty allergic reaction.

Finally we had the piece of paper and we put it up on the projector so we could all sit around and learn what could be so secret Francis would scrawl it in blood on his arm.

As we all shared some popcorn sprinkled with a light touch of salt and soaked in some kinda buttery stuff we gazed in awe at the message on the cave wall.  It was Francis' list of New Years resolutions.

Here's the list:
1) Crush all my enemies
2) Put back on some weight so people can't tell I'm sick
3) Bondo that dent in my forehead
4) Find a new Girlfriend without kids this time
5) Buy a notepad
6) Get Phil's nose outta my sphincter
7) Find Phil a deaf and blind girlfriend with a weak olfactory sense (broken nose?)
8) Figure out who is spying on me
9) Quit saying stupid shit on the radio (this is a tough one)
10) Convince people that its okay to not have enough cops on the street
11) Spend more time with Mommy (Olga)