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
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
County Infestation Test
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.
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.
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.
 |
| Party on Garth! |
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? |
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.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
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)
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)
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Never be Afeared Agin
Used to be us lake living types had all sorts of stuff to worry bout. These days its all good though ever since Francis has been around to save us from the scary things other places have.
Like Saber Tooth tigers, f'rinstance.
I haven't seen a single Saber Tooth tiger since Francis has been taking care of business. There's lots of other threats we don't see too much of either.
Misfit doorjambs cower at the thought of his big 'ol gun, no space aliens at all and even the volcano hasn't erupted once since francis has been on the job.
And if you are a pot smoking kid looking to score a fat three gram sack you better think twice since duh Sharuf will make sure you get your ass kicked on a regular basis and that every other kid at school knows your a snitch.
He'll make it so your house gets egged or some flaming poop waits on the doorstep.
And your folks can blame it all on you.
If your even dumber and try to turn that kid on you can bet your boots somebody will get their car jacked by that guy in the forest ranger outfit.
Best of all, we don't have to worry about pretend motorcyclers not coming anywhere near the county. Don't worry about the ones you do see since Francis is only here to protect us from the imaginary ones.
He's even protecting us from that stupid old Constitution deal so we can sleep safe knowing that Francis has snipers out on the hills around the county looking out for phantom bikers. Who wants to extend Constitutional privilege to ghost bikers anyway?
Take that Federal Government!
Now Donny DA, he kinda missed the point. Just because Francis went down to stop the pretend bikers and halt traffic on the highway why should that be any big deal since how can you violate the rights of people that dont exist? I don't really get that part but supposedly it has something to do with intent.
Who cares what the plan was, it was a great time for everybody except maybe those guys that nearly wet themselves in a three car smashup on the way to the pretend party. Francis should file an IA on those guys to find out why they were going so fast to get there.
Like Saber Tooth tigers, f'rinstance.
 |
| Pretend Saber Tooth Tiger |
Misfit doorjambs cower at the thought of his big 'ol gun, no space aliens at all and even the volcano hasn't erupted once since francis has been on the job.
And if you are a pot smoking kid looking to score a fat three gram sack you better think twice since duh Sharuf will make sure you get your ass kicked on a regular basis and that every other kid at school knows your a snitch.
He'll make it so your house gets egged or some flaming poop waits on the doorstep.
And your folks can blame it all on you.
If your even dumber and try to turn that kid on you can bet your boots somebody will get their car jacked by that guy in the forest ranger outfit.
 |
| Pretend flaming bag 'o poop |
He's even protecting us from that stupid old Constitution deal so we can sleep safe knowing that Francis has snipers out on the hills around the county looking out for phantom bikers. Who wants to extend Constitutional privilege to ghost bikers anyway?
Take that Federal Government!
Now Donny DA, he kinda missed the point. Just because Francis went down to stop the pretend bikers and halt traffic on the highway why should that be any big deal since how can you violate the rights of people that dont exist? I don't really get that part but supposedly it has something to do with intent.
Who cares what the plan was, it was a great time for everybody except maybe those guys that nearly wet themselves in a three car smashup on the way to the pretend party. Francis should file an IA on those guys to find out why they were going so fast to get there.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
The Doorjamb's Revenge
Nobody really likes going to court. Well maybe some judges who get to be all judgey and stuff but for most of us it just means missing our favorite channel 8 show on how to grow weed in secret.
Its all bad waiting to find out if your recreational activities are gonna win you the three hots and a cot lottery or just a fine you aren't gonna pay anyhow.
Seems like Francis isn't hip to spending his spare time in court either so he figured out a smooth maneuver to keep him from sitting on those hard chairs waiting for his name to be called.
There's some kinda list that you can get your name on so you don't have to go to court if your a cop. I don't know if it works for jury duty but I'm looking into whether us citizens can get on this list and save the trouble of dreaming up some excuse to not do your cervical duty.
That list is a get out of court free card from what I can tell and Francis laid the groundwork to get on it by telling different stories depending on who he was talking to. Now he doesn't have to go to court anymore. Sweet. I think I'm gonna call KPFZ next time he's on there and ask him how I can get on the list.
Evidently for him it means he'll get to spend more time in his office screwing around with his propaganda blog and working on schemes to unseat supervisors and stuff. He won't have to go out in the county and do crime stuff anymore at all.
Now I don't know if its a joke but supposedly the name of the list is Brady, like that show from when I was a kid. Not really sure why they named some list after a TV show but it sure sounds like a sweet deal. Over on his propaganda blog they got so excited about it they wrote some poems and songs and stuff in honor of Francis' cleverness.
Here's one that kinda sounds like that show:
Here's the story,
Of a lying Sheriff,
Who has some major problems with the truth.
Most things he says are fabricated,
Like their speaker,
The biggest ones pure bull.
Here's the story,
Of a man named Francis,
Who was busy telling falsehoods all his own.
He told lots and lots of big lies,
Trying to convince us, but they were all just fibs.
Till the one day when the DA met this fellow,
and they knew their was much more than a hunch.
That this group,
Must somehow form a family.
That's the way Francis joined the Brady Bunch,
The Brady Bunch, the Brady Bunch
That's the way he joined the Brady Bunch.
 |
| Et mendax est Poobah. |
Seems like Francis isn't hip to spending his spare time in court either so he figured out a smooth maneuver to keep him from sitting on those hard chairs waiting for his name to be called.
There's some kinda list that you can get your name on so you don't have to go to court if your a cop. I don't know if it works for jury duty but I'm looking into whether us citizens can get on this list and save the trouble of dreaming up some excuse to not do your cervical duty.
That list is a get out of court free card from what I can tell and Francis laid the groundwork to get on it by telling different stories depending on who he was talking to. Now he doesn't have to go to court anymore. Sweet. I think I'm gonna call KPFZ next time he's on there and ask him how I can get on the list.
Now I don't know if its a joke but supposedly the name of the list is Brady, like that show from when I was a kid. Not really sure why they named some list after a TV show but it sure sounds like a sweet deal. Over on his propaganda blog they got so excited about it they wrote some poems and songs and stuff in honor of Francis' cleverness.
Here's one that kinda sounds like that show:
Here's the story,
Of a lying Sheriff,
Who has some major problems with the truth.
Most things he says are fabricated,
Like their speaker,
The biggest ones pure bull.
Here's the story,
Of a man named Francis,
Who was busy telling falsehoods all his own.
He told lots and lots of big lies,
Trying to convince us, but they were all just fibs.
Till the one day when the DA met this fellow,
and they knew their was much more than a hunch.
That this group,
Must somehow form a family.
That's the way Francis joined the Brady Bunch,
The Brady Bunch, the Brady Bunch
That's the way he joined the Brady Bunch.
Three Gram Conspiracy or Grand Theft Auto
A few weeks back I went for a walk in my neighbhorhood looking for a skunk that was fouling up the singlewide and got caught in a pungent haze obscuring my perception. Disoriented and feeling the need for a snack I started on my way home but it took me a while and I wandered the streets and hills looking for the singlewide. Just the other day through the haze of smoke and skunky smell I finally spotted the domicile and noticed that somebody had altered the steps a bit.
I guess they changed the locks while fixing the deck since my key didn't fit anymore and it wasn't until I was in the kitchen getting together a snack that I realized I'd wandered into someone else's singlewide. I picked up a few items to aid and sustain me on my quest to find my own pad and struck out again into the haze.
Turns out I was just a couple of blocks from Casa Dishevel so I didn't have to carry the bounty for long and now I've got a semi-used X-Box and some newish clothes for the long winter.
I sure hope whoever lives in that other singlewide don't mind me making a mess in their kitchen and breaking the back window.
After sleeping for several days to shake off the affects of the skunky haze I picked up the news and read about how Sharuf Francis has busted a huge criminal gang of pot dealers corrupting our nation's youth.
Four kids conspired to sell some other kid a couple of doobies but some confidential informant gave em up to the Sharuf.
Back in my day we'd keep those deals on the down low and not involve a bunch of people to hand off a doobie or two.
I was impressed at how Francis used some unconventional tactics to lasso the conspirators and get those three grams of weed off the streets. Don't know that my neighborhood would even notice a missing three gram supply but at least the Sharuf is doing something about these teen age cartels.
Kinda like emptying the lake with a teaspoon.
Too bad about those unconventional tactics though, seems that kidnapping and car theft aren't traditionally accepted forms of law enforcement. Stuff like that fouls up fantastic narco busts like this three gram haul and pretty much everybody but Francis agreed he probably got a little too excited. Who could blame him, the Task Force was outta town so it was all up to Francis to track down the teen cartel.
I heard that snitch kid is getting his clock cleaned on a regular basis by all his other friends that don't want their three gram stashes ratted out.
I guess they changed the locks while fixing the deck since my key didn't fit anymore and it wasn't until I was in the kitchen getting together a snack that I realized I'd wandered into someone else's singlewide. I picked up a few items to aid and sustain me on my quest to find my own pad and struck out again into the haze.
Turns out I was just a couple of blocks from Casa Dishevel so I didn't have to carry the bounty for long and now I've got a semi-used X-Box and some newish clothes for the long winter.
I sure hope whoever lives in that other singlewide don't mind me making a mess in their kitchen and breaking the back window.
After sleeping for several days to shake off the affects of the skunky haze I picked up the news and read about how Sharuf Francis has busted a huge criminal gang of pot dealers corrupting our nation's youth.
Four kids conspired to sell some other kid a couple of doobies but some confidential informant gave em up to the Sharuf.
Back in my day we'd keep those deals on the down low and not involve a bunch of people to hand off a doobie or two.
I was impressed at how Francis used some unconventional tactics to lasso the conspirators and get those three grams of weed off the streets. Don't know that my neighborhood would even notice a missing three gram supply but at least the Sharuf is doing something about these teen age cartels.
Kinda like emptying the lake with a teaspoon.
Too bad about those unconventional tactics though, seems that kidnapping and car theft aren't traditionally accepted forms of law enforcement. Stuff like that fouls up fantastic narco busts like this three gram haul and pretty much everybody but Francis agreed he probably got a little too excited. Who could blame him, the Task Force was outta town so it was all up to Francis to track down the teen cartel.
I heard that snitch kid is getting his clock cleaned on a regular basis by all his other friends that don't want their three gram stashes ratted out.
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