“Oh goody goody goody sweet blond-haired, blue-eyed Baby Jesus!! Thanks be to Gawd that witch from the badlands won’t be writing in this issue.”
Wow. Was it that good for you, Mary Beth Meyers (letters to the editor, Jan. 22)? Did you get a pickled patutin’ hoot out of that, huh? And gee, maybe another mom of mine can die so I can skip another week of the column for you.
I don’t normally respond to the handful of wacko detractors who try to bash me week after week in the letters-to-the-editor. But you freaking Neo-Nazi-Cons are so full of mean-hearted crap. Every time I try to warn my friends about yet another flaming dog poop stunt deposited upon us by King George, these five and a half “true believers” get whirling on their six-person phone tree – throughout the vast lands of Gilroy and Hollister and Bitterwater – and burn up the wires.
Swear to Dog. If these morons were around in 1776, they’d be placed in public stocks, spinning around on a turnstile and dripping with rotten pumpkin pies and horse manure. Or maybe some taxed tea would be sticking to their tiny heads.
It’s called Freedom of Speech, ding-dongs. And if you don’t like it then turn the page to Wendy Sans and read all about the hootenanny everyone had at the barbecue and PTA meeting and the hootenanny they had at the other barbecue and PTA meeting.
OK. Now that that’s off my chest, let’s try to keep up with the Joneses … ha! What a card I am. Because no one can keep up with the Joneses of San Benito County, not even entrepreneurs hoping to squeak into their offices. That’s because those offices are where Marvin Jones and his wife Reba, and supervisorial candidate Stubby Stubblefield and Militia queen Sally Bettencourt have their Freedom Rally every Friday, where they flap around their pro-war signs that say stuff like, “He did TOO tell Congress about the wiretaps,” and “No one could anticipate the levees would break,” and “Merry Christmas.”
Really, folks. Just what in Dog’s name is there to be proud about this inept, forked-tongue, viciously greedy and out-of-touch boob who is supposed to be running this country?
Get this: the Pentagon – yes, this came from a leak at the Pentagon and is well-documented – said two weeks ago that if our 2236 dead young American troops in Iraq had been wearing body armor – which has been laying around in U.S. warehouses since 2003 – 80 percent of them would be alive today. Of course, Rummy has gone crazy over this and is trying to harpoon the person who leaked it to the press.
And Baby Bush loves our troops so much that he made a law saying if your parents buy the armor for you or if you manage to get it to your field of combat, and if you die in combat despite the fact you finally got it, and if it isn’t government issued, the Department of Rummy Defense will not pay out the death benefit to surviving loved ones.
Oh, but you can take a tax deduction for part of the cost of black market armor, which they say is about $3,000.
The latest outrage: contractor Halliburton – the company that nobody knows what they do exactly except make Dick Cheney 5 million bucks every year – gave American soldiers in the battlefields of Iraq tainted water and tainted food. When the war profiteering company heads were warned about the bad supplies, Halliburton refused to warn the soldiers in turn. So our troops not only have to survive roadside bombs, scorpions, suicide bombers, religious zealots with machetes and whistling bullets, but also diarrhea and projectile barfing for days on end.
Good going, Halliburton.
San Carlos Creek Update: I must say this. I was truly overwhelmed, stunned, and damn near speechless (yes, hard to picture it), by the many, many cards and flowers and gorgeous plants I received in memory of my late mother, Elizabeth Jane Woods. The tens and tens of emails, too, were so beautifully written and truly appreciated. I tried to answer all, but if I missed one or two of you, let’s blame it on my mythical secretary. And a special thanks to Free Lance/Dispatch/Times publisher Steve Staloch, for the amazing fern. It certainly dresses up the Community Wreck Room Trailer! My family and I want to thank every one of you for the oodles of kind wishes and thoughts. In her heyday, Mom was quite the dynamo and left a lasting impression on people.
As for you, Mary Beth Meyers, you can go stick that nasty, mean spirited letter-to-the-editor right up your… snout.