Does something stink in Nanticoke?

You tell me, man. Me no speak a no legalese, but if I’m a long-term congressman and my nephews are lollygagging along over a case that gives even the hint of an appearance of impropriety or not wanting the truth to spill out regarding the $9 million in federal pork I secured for them and they subsequently squandered--I’m kicking their fat asses all the way down to the courthouse and right now. This concludes our run-on sentence.

With that having been said, why would the good congressman allow this case to languish so long?

“I’ve sat through this case for four years, and I’ve watched the most twisted, obstructive effort to deny discovery that I have ever seen,” Judge William F. Moran said while ordering the contempt proceeding during a Sept. 5 hearing. “Maybe the people who are involved in this think they are immune from the law because of who they are. But they’re not in this county,” Moran said, according to a hearing transcript. During the Sept. 5 hearing, attended only by lawyers, Moran threatened to issue warrants if Cornerstone’s officers failed to show up at the Sept. 29 contempt hearing. “And if Congress is in session, I don’t know whether we can bring anybody in or not.”

Isn’t it interesting that this level of detail only becomes public knowledge immediately after a mid-term election.

Hey, wait. I wanna do my impression of a Democrat. Ready?

Mr. Kanjorski, what did you know and when did you know it?

Whatever. He has to be on the up-and-up, since only Republicans are caught up in the corruption business.

Right?

I done ate way too much yesterday once we all grabbed a seat at the table and made short work of all of wife’s cocking and baking. No, no dead animals for this lunatic. Lots of veggies, some wet bread concoction with onion gravy, mashed potatoes (the white kind, not the orange kind), cranberry sauce and buttered rolls.

Anywho, I had this idea about a weird slideshow I wanted to take a whack at, lounged at the computer for a while and listened in to the NFL broadcast on the video advertising box behind me.

Here’s that weird slideshow:

So there I was capturing screen after screen from local blogs only to learn that the anti-Wilkes-Barre Online blog posted another…well, another screed about me. What else should we expect from some anonymous blowhard suffering from an obvious case of mental incapacity? And that’s fine and all, except for the minor discomfort that accompanies a good belly laugh after that belly’s posted weight limit was exceeded. Have no fear though, I resisted the urge to open my pants to relax some.

Here’s my reaction to the unremitting and increasingly vituperative and paroxysmic outbursts that are horribly short on substance, coherent thought, or any approximations thereof.

Some pseudo pundit has the unmitigated audacity to question my integrity from the pussy-whipped comfort that anonymity provides? That’s equal parts absurd and effeminate. Not exactly a progenitor of citizen publishing, blogs such as yours, that attack local individuals without a name or a face attached to them are the lowest form of scum on an increasingly scummy internet pond. Or to be much more blunt--you are a scumbag. And every time you work your strange brand of effeminate magic--dealing in far-flung inevitabilities rather than distinct possibilities--you prove that imbecility stretched over time is still imbecility.

The part that seems to escape you is…anonymous pussies are a dime a dozen on the internet. And to me, you are but a mosquito living off of my good testicle. So babble on my effeminate, anonymous agitator. You amuse me.

Although, I am easily amused on most days.

This Thanksgiving was tough on me, and I suspect, enough tougher on my wife. Although we really had ourselves a great family get-together, I kept thinking all day long, One meal and they’re gone. Gone to Tennessee.

And when it came time for Gage and Taylor to give me a hug before heading off to bed, I had a small lump in my throat. And when I bid them a final adieu this morning, I was saying “Buh-bye, “but it felt more like a goodbye.

Every one of us staying behind here in Wilkes-Barre put a happy face on for Thanksgiving, but there is an obvious profligacy of opinion wherein none of us can believe that this has come about.

Yeah, you can count me in, but they better have some six-card machines. I love playing six-card. Tell me, they don’t have metal detectors at that bar, do they? I’m kidding, don’t start. I look forward to the meeting of the…um, minds. Sounds like a hoot.

As for the little guy, I am going to miss him in a big way. He is one bright little kid, and his quick acclimation to, and obvious fondness of all things formal education portends great things for him. And don’t listen to any bunk from his parents if he cures cancer or something. He takes after his Pop Pop.

What choice do I have? I have already begun the exploration of bus routes and train routes for a round-trip visit. Greyhound offers a 25-hour trip from here to NYC and then turns due south and hits big city after big city with some cool layover time. I’ll never get on a plane again, I don’t feel like driving 15 hours down and then back again, so we’ll see about all of that.

They are supposed to visit for a whole week in March, so we’ll be sure to swing by. By the way, his mom tells me Gage has a Lego fireman named Larry--his favorite. He may not have seen you much of late, but he obviously hasn’t forgotten you. As would you say, “That’s neat.”

Oh, yeah. This winter will pass with a blink as most seasons do, so don’t be surprised when the elongated bike rolls on up with a whole other set of grandrodents strapped to it. Zach has already been out for a test spin on the trail bike and by March, Jeremy will be big enough and strong enough for the front child seat.

We’ll see you at headquarters.

You tell me. Is the man who would be king spending enough time at home? Seems we had us a domestic dustup on Willow street that occupied the time of two of our police officers late Wednesday (14:54) afternoon.

According to the 911 employee coming over the scanner, “…a female called back…said there’s no problem, but it sounded like a domestic in progress.”

Is there a political upside to a frantic call to 911 requesting police assistance for a “domestic” when it’s coming from your house?

I can’t wait to hear his droning pontificating at the next council meeting. I say again, imbecility stretched over time is still imbecility.

That it is.

Gotta go. My son just arrived and we’re going to throw back a few. The way I look at it, there were happy drunks long before there were any moralists.

Buh-bye