3-5-2004 CYA SHAQIA

The things that shock are the things that get through. Meanwhile, serious consideration of issues of monumental importance to the public good has become impossible.--John DiIulio, former director of the Bush Administration's Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives.

Read this piece. It's not that long. Hillary Warns Kerry: Hands Off McAuliffe

When Drudge reported that John Kerry had a young, sweet thing on the side, those dastardly Dems charged that the Republicans were up to their dirty tricks again. The truth of the matter is unknown.

If the Kerry camp dumps McAuliffe, Kerry will pay dearly and whatever nasty tricks come his way won't be coming from the other side of the political aisle. There's one thing all of the Democrats clearly understand: You don't f**k with the Clintons. The Democratic Party is theirs to do with what they wish until Hillary finally ascends to the presidency of Amerika.

John Kerry is asking for some big, big trouble if McAuliffe collects unemployment any time soon.

Check this:

Voters in the early Democratic primaries, a perversely serious minority of the electorate, rejected the passionate Howard Dean in favor of John Kerry, a candidate nuanced to the point of paralysis.--Joe Klein, TIME Magazine

She'd kill me if she knew about this, but whether she realizes it or not, she needs my help. My sister's marriage blew up a while back and she's been sitting around feeling sorry for herself ever since. I know she got a raw deal, but whining about it forever won't change anything. As far as I'm concerned, it's high time that she re-engage already. Get out there. Have some fun. Meet some people. Meet a guy. Hopefully, that's where somebody out there in cyberspace comes in.

She'll kill me. Anyway, I'm posting her pic here. If you're interested, drop me an e-mail. She's not the prettiest girl and she does weigh over 300 pounds, but I think she's got an inner beauty that most guys miss. Annie Another pic: Annie Lemme know.

When I reported to police headquarters the other night, I was informed by someone in the know that some more seedy looking types had rented the apartment at the very end of the street. Wonderful. Last night, a regular idiot from Penn Ave. directly across from the end of our street was screaming profanities at the top of his lungs, kicking sh*t all over the place, and threatening to break in to his mother-in-law's home. He kept yelling, "I am not your f**ked-up son-in-law!" Au contraire, f**k-up. My daughter was concerned for the lady hunkered down inside the home with all the lights off and beckoned me to "do something." Great.

As I headed out, I grabbed the cell phone and dialed the good folks at 911. How much more do these people need when folks are threatened with violence by a drunken lunatic? I told the guy on the other end of the phone that we had a drunken lunatic trying to break into an elderly woman's home at 460 Penn Ave. and we needed a cruiser here like right now. Then it started. And your name is? I told him. Then the drunk starts threatening me with a serious ass-kicking. I told him I was being threatened now and the dude leveling the threats was headed my way. Send a cruiser!!! Your phone number?

I pleaded with the guy," Send the cops!!!" "I'm trying to do my job sir. My partner will dispatch the police while..." Send the cops!!!

His partner? F**k his partner and f**k 911 already. In the old days before all of this computerized gibberish, a dispatcher at police headquarters armed only with a rotary phone, a microphone, a pen and pad would have had a car rolling lickety-split. The guy is threatening me with violence and headed my way and they wanna know my phone number? Why? So they can call next week and find out how my widow's doing? If our legislators would think things through every once in a while, maybe we wouldn't get saddled with expensive sh*t such as this.

If there's a next time, I'll call 826-8106. What our regular lunatic had no way of knowing was that I had a Maglite stuffed into my back pocket. A Maglite containing 6 D batteries. It's not as long as an aluminum baseball bat, but it is heavier. And it'd be difficult seeing it coming at'cha as darkness sets in. Maybe we should simply skull the pricks that act up into the next life and then call 911.

Hi, My name is Billy Bob the Stupid Resident...My address is...My phone number is...My social security number is...My waist size is...My wife's maiden name is...and we need a 10-45 at 460 N. Penn Ave. Thank you. CLICK!

And our Vampire High Priestess, Shaqia, alias "Nicky," is trolling for a new bat cave on a street near you. 34 Thompson Street, as well as 34 Thompson Street (Rear) have both been repossessed by Old Forge Bank. The "For Sale" signs went up this morning.

She was active today. A cube van (M.B. Bedding Co., W-B 822-2491) arrived and removed her couch. If you remember correctly, I told y'all these druggies moved in with no furniture, only Jaguars and Lincoln Navigators. Then a dark blue van (PA YBV-4882) took some smaller items about an hour later. Then Shaq' and her scummy-looking look-out chickie appeared in a brand new black Jaguar (PA FYL-1439) and drove away. Hopefully, for good.

It's sad that she's looking for another location from where to peddle her drugs, but I happen to know that all that could be done to arrest her and shut down that house was done. Once she was assigned a petrie dish of her own, she stopped selling from that location.

In a way, I'm almost glad that she lived here for a year. Before getting to meet her and all of her friends, many of which have already been busted after invading this street, drugs was a problem on Samborne Street. Or Madison Street. Or wherever. It never really mattered that much to me, because it never seemed that close to me. And I didn't know squat about the drug trade. Now I do. And I will remain forever vigilant no matter where I happen to reside. Thanks for the education Shaq'. I'll be watching for you out there.

Anyway. We've got a couple more properties available on Thompson Street.

Old Forge Bank
Brian or Trudy

Slumlords and drug lords need not apply.

I gotta cut this short. The Terrible Twos are making wifey crazy and I'm afraid we may have another toddler stuffed into a dryer if I don't act now. I'll leave you with this from the e-mail inbox.


A couple goes on vacation to a fishing resort in northern Minnesota. The husband likes to fish at the crack of dawn. The wife likes to read. One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and continues to read her book. Along comes a game warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, "Good morning, Ma'am. What are you doing?" "Reading a book," she replies, [thinking "Isn't it obvious?"] "You're in a restricted fishing area," he informs her. "I'm sorry, officer, but I'm not fishing; I'm reading." "Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up." "If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman. "But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden. "That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."
"Have a nice day, ma'am," and he left. . . .

MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It's likely she can also think.

It occurred to me that this image probably constitutes a wet dream these days on Willow Street.