8-3-2004

Truck 51! Where are you?

I want to thank George Bush for sending the goons here tonight to excite us to do a little more work...--John Kerry

They want four more years of hell.--Teresa Heinz Scary

Three more months! Three more months! Three more months!--Teresa Heinz Scary

Whoa! Your intolerance is showing, people. After all of the vitriolic attacks Dubya has suffered for seven months and never really bothered to dignify with a response, you would think that John Kerry and his increasingly mental wifey could tolerate a scant few folks chanting "Four more years," in obvious support of Dubya. You would think.

Goons, ah? Vote Dem or you are a goon. That's far less than presidential, but I can't say in the least that I'm surprised by his, or his wife's outbursts. Elitists just can't help themselves. Theirs is a very special presence, and we should all bow down and thank them for being so superior to us mere mortals. And they should never have to suffer the indignity of having the great unwashed resist their lifelong quest for power and a socialist Amerika.

The self-appointed champions of the middle class have spoken. See what happens when Kerry and Scary are mistakenly subjected to the common rabble holding the white tickets. The Goons. The Bush supporters. The folks that all need to "Shove it."

Teresa had better be kept on the bus from here on out. She's obviously quite a few preservatives short of a bottle of catsup. And Kerry? Well, he can't hide anymore. At this point, he has to get out there and face the electorate in his own dour, aloof and extroverted way currently being passed off as somehow being middle class. He's being given enough rope to hang himself before November 2nd and he's off to a great start.

He was rebuffed by U.S. Marines from Stewart Air Force base at a Wendy's Restaurant in Newburgh, New York.

He POed locals right here in NEPA by coming into town, but only allowing the high & mighty anywhere near him and his entourage.

He was lustily booed by some Dem folks in Michigan after screwing up a stupid joke and claiming to be a Buckeyes fan.

And now he's labeled those that don't want any of his snake oil as "goons," and he allowed his wife to get near a microphone once again.

And this is all since last Friday.

The Kerry and Scary Show.

Mayor Leighton and City Council are about to embark on a ship, and the name of the ship is the Titanic. I hope they enjoy the ride.

I'll give you three guesses as to who uttered that not so veiled threat. Ready?

1.) Charles Manson

2.) John Wayne Gacey

3.) Bob Kadluboski

Enter your selection now.

So what's next? More bomb threats directed at City Hall?

The adults have long since wrestled control away from the dolts. And it's only right that the city now deal with only the most professional purveyors and subcontractors.

Bring on Falzone's Towing.

Investing in our...

...collective future is a "political kickback?

Commissioner No! has lashed out again against the $2.5 million county loan to help revitalize our crumpled downtown, and quite frankly, he's off on a tangent here that only the dimmest of the dim bulb voters among us will embrace and appreciate.

Wilkes-Barre should not be revitalized? We should back off and allow some last second developer that appeared only after our theater plan was officially announced to build a theater in Edwardsville and then continue to wait for the elusive private developers that never seem to surface? Commissioner No! is short-sighted beyond belief, but he did get his mug on the front page of the Leader. That's important to him.

Please! Don't bore me anymore. A "political kickback?" A consortium of local power brokers are trying to kick-start Wilkes-Barre's long dormant chances and it's all politics? It seems as if the folks playing politics are the very same ones crying "politics." As if they're not.

No sooner had Sue Henry delved into this topic this morning, Commissioner No!'s girlfriend called the show to carp about how he was exactly right. Then, "Walter" dialed in and harped about the same damned lunacy.

It's like we have a third party in this county that attempts to fly under the radar all of the time. The Taxpayer Watchdog Party that won't officially admit it's existence. Criticize one of them and the rest wade into the pool right quick to come to the defense. But they won't admit their true objectives. Namely, to replace the elected folks they so frequently criticize.

If you wanna be a taxpayer watchdog, by all means, have at it. But if what you really want is to be elected, you're not a taxpayer watchdog-you're a candidate for elected office. And I find it disingenuous for some to pretend to be the former only to eventually become the latter.

So Steverino, Linda and Walt think that Wilkes-Barre's rebirth should have to wait until the busloads of those lost private developers finally make their way to Public Square and deliver us from the abject failure that our city has become of late. That's the whole plan. That's the official plan from the unofficial political party. Keep waiting for progress to magically arrive here.

And what of Leighton, Barrouk, VonderTodd, and Skrep? Why, they're all playing politics. That's what Stevie and the Watchdogs from Mars would have us all believe. But what of The Guv? Why did he up and pump $10 million in state aid into Wilkes-Barre's cause? Politics? Is he one of the bad guys too as identified by the covert folks in the Watchdog Party?

When the ribbon-cutting ceremony for our downtown theater finally arrives, I would really prefer it if Commissioner No! and his merry band of political ninjas would make it a point to be somewhere else. Far away. How about Edwardsville?

And just when we thought...

...that our infamous Holeplex was about to be backfilled, two Bloomsburg developers are contemplating legal action to gain control of our seemingly permanent stain on this city's collective pysch. I practically hate them already.

I don't give a flyin' muck who builds the new Labor & Industry building. And I don't care if some local guy makes a freaking killing on the project. I just want to see something positive come about, and the sooner the better.

But no! One day the newspapers tell us something positive is finally on it's way. A couple of 30-packs and a few days later and they're telling us that two guys from Bloomsburg might seek to further delay even the slightest glimmer of hope that that single building would represent to many of us biding our time and hoping against hope here in Wilkes-Barre. How much more abuse should the residents of one downtrodden Third Class City be expected to endure?

If those dickheads go to court over the Holeplex, I say we all skip the Bloomsburg Fair this year. Tell 'em I said that.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading the latest from...

Mark Guydish: "Bike Riders just looking for a little balance."

His article nailed it. If you ride your bike enough miles, you WILL be confronted by car drivers filled with barely controlled rage by your very presence on THEIR roadways. To them I say, "F**k off!" Every single time. Oh, yeah. And consult the Pennsylvania Vehicle Code, asshole.

I seek no balance when some asshole needs to curse at me while his kids listen intently from the back seat of his car. I seek only to goad him into a fight. And that's exactly what he deserves for his piss-poor outburst that has nothing to do about nothing except his obvious mental shortcomings. "Pull over asshole!" is about as much balance as I'll ever seek.

Admit it, man. When most folks climb into their cheezy, over-priced vehicles, they don't drive as much as they become combatants. They become easily annoyed by most anything that appears directly in front of their ego enhancements. Or penile enhancements. They freak out for little or no reason. They yell at kids. They display their frustration with pedestrians. They display their longest finger to anyone that dares to force them to hit the brake pedal. But they seem to save their biggest "freak-outs" for those bastards on bicycles that aren't grossly overweight like the great majority of them.

Whatever, man. It don't much matter to me. Drive like you're a lap down. Strap that stupid cell phone to your head, slurp your coffee, and make love to your freaking Twinkie. But be real careful about who you decide to vent on while out and about. Some of us cycling enthusiasts have had more than we can stand from the folks that need a combustion engine just to traverse a half block in search of a gallon of milk.

If you do stupidly decide to start freaking out on some lone bike rider and a slingshot ball suddenly smashes your side window, that was me.

I've got great balance. I don't need anymore from anyone driving a car.

No Phillies game until 10:05 PM tonight. That sucks. Where's my nightly fix of underachievement inspired by Larry Blowa? I'll live.

Later