A fond farewell

Dear Ex-Congressman,

The time has finally come that we must part ways, Mr. Boehner. I have enjoyed the last several years posting my thoughts to you via this forum, however as I am now sitting within Mr. Driehaus's district within a mile of downtown Cincinnati, it is time for us to part ways.

It is nothing personal, Mr. Boehner. I realize that you are too busy to read my blog, or even to have a low level staffer start the day by checking to see if there are any updates, but I will still miss our time together, with me constantly giving you a hard time about your chain smoking, and you... well... chain smoking whenever possible.

So farewell, Congressman Boehner. It has been fun...

Regards,

Rich

PS: if for some inane reason you want to catch up with me... just go to www.boringblogfordriehaus.blogspot.com

Parental guidance suggested ...

Dear Congressman,

It appears that Abbey Sunderland, the16 year old girl who was sailing around the world on her own was rescued in the Indian Ocean after her sail boat, Wild Eyes, was de-masted in heavy seas and set adrift for several days. I think I can speak for everyone who lives in these United States that we are glad that she is safe and going to be on her way home soon.

But lets flash back to a conversation that probably took place back in 2009.

The setting is Marina Del Rey in Southern California on a warm evening in mid-October. Marianne and Laurence Sunderland are sitting by the marina drinking refreshing glasses of Snapple ice tea.

Mr. Sunderland: Wow, what a beautiful sunset!

Mrs. Sunderland: I agree, honey. It is especially beautiful today.

Mr. Sunderland: Did you see that follow up story to that run-away balloon we saw on CNN yesterday?

Mrs. Sunderland: No dear, what happened.

Mr. Sunderland: It appears that it was all a hoax, as the parents had the kid hide in the attic and then staged the whole thing.

Mrs. Sunderland: Why, that's awful! I was really frightened by the possibility that that poor child was in extreme danger in that balloon as it sailed off with him on it alone and scared. Why would they do such a thing?

Mr. Sunderland: Why else would someone do something so stupid? It was obviously about money. They were willing to manipulate their children to make money.

Mrs. Sunderland: That is terrible. What do you think will happen to them?

Mr. Sunderland: If I had my way, I would throw them in jail for a few years to teach 'em a lesson.

Mrs. Sunderland: Larry, you're not thinking about the children. You would have them spend their formative years without their parents around?

Mr. Sunderland: Your right, Mar, that would be unfair on those kids. It isn't their fault their parents care more about money then their personal well-being.

Mrs. Sunderland: It is terrible what some parents will do to their children for fame and fortune.

Mr. Sunderland: Agreed, there ought to be a law.

Mrs. Sunderland: By the way Dear, it is Abby's sixteenth birthday in a few days. What do you think we should get her for her sweet sixteen?

Both smile at each other and stare into the distance as the sun sets into the Pacific Ocean.

Pending Apocolypse

Dear Congressman,

I could not help but notice several stories from the news that renews my theory that the end of days is nigh...

1. In your very district on Monday night, the Big Butter Jesus statue outside of the Solid Rock Church took a lightning strike at about 11:30pm during a fierce thunderstorm and was converted into the "Big Steel Frame that once was Big Butter Jesus" within the hour or two it took for the whole thing to burn to a crisp. I knew that it was an apocalyptic type of thunderstorm because I was asleep about 10 miles south in my humble abode when the very same storm woke me up. The good news is that the statue was insured, so there should be a return of Big Butter Jesus within a few months. But I have to ask, how come the lightning bolt struck the Church and not the Hustler Bookstore on the other side of the freeway? I mean, if there was ever a place a group of Christians would pray to be hit by lightning, it would be Larry Flynt's porn palace.

2. Then I saw this one hit the wire later in the day:

By AP / June 15, 2010Monterey, California.

Authorities say California artist Thomas Kinkade spent a night in jail after being arrested on suspicion of drunken driving.

California Highway Patrol officials said Monday that Kinkade was pulled over outside Carmel and arrested by a CHP officer just after 10 p.m. Friday

CHP Officer Robert Lehman says the 52-year-old Kinkade was booked into the Monterey County Jail on suspicion of misdemeanor drunken driving. He was released Saturday morning.

Kinkade is famous for his paintings of cottages, country gardens and churches in dewy morning light.

The Thomas Kinkade Co. said in a statement it was reviewing the allegation.

The company noted it wasn't speaking on behalf of the artist, and said Kinkade has been advised by his lawyer not to comment.

I remember seeing a special on 60 minutes about Kinkade, who whips out pieces of art at the same pace that Little Debbies produces creme pies. He produces editions of over 7500 for most of his works, and doesn't sign them individually, but has a "DNA signature" attached to prove it is one of his works. He is considered the "master of light", and has a HUGE following among his collectors. Also, he is big with fundamentalist circles and aligns himself with the religious right in America. Thus, another sign of the pending apocalypse.

As for my opinion of Mr. Kinkade's art, I feel "master of light" is a little dramatic for his works. When I look at them, it reminds me of what the critic said about Ralph Vaughn William's 3rd Symphony when he first listened to it.

"It reminds me of a cow staring over a fence."

As the forum turns...

Dear Congressman,

I would have to think with all your time being taken up by lobbyists, deal-making, committee meetings, votes on the floor of the House, phone calls to the wobbling members of the party, and the occasional smoke break, that you rarely get time to sit down and "surf the web", so to speak.

Between you and I, I wouldn't worry too much, as you are not missing a lot.

For example, if you visit any unmonitored message board, you are very likely to see some variation of the following:


THE PUPPY FORUM
Welcome to the puppy dog discussion group. Feel free to post and discuss your love of all things puppy. Enjoy!

costofataco: Wow, I am the first person to post here... kewl!!!!

Dogboy: just wanted to say hi to everyone here as i just got my first puppy from the store yeserday and really happy wit it it likes to pee on the flur to much but i supose thats naturel her name is Maxy and is a poodle-rotweiler mix hope to here from all of you soon....

Catpig: A forum devoted to dogs... lame stuff... cats rule!!!!

Doggirl: Dogboy, glad to here you really like your new puppy. Im thinking bout getting one too but I am not allowed pets in my apartment. oh well

Poochfan: Catpig take your anti-dog attitude somewhere else, you troll

Dogboy: thanx doggirl sorry you can't get a puppy right now but I will keep you in my prayers for a puppy in the futare

Onepostandgone: Hi puppy fans, I found a great sight and you should see if for yourself asit changed my life www.girls&guyswhowilldoanythingformoney.com , see you there!

Catpig: just because cats are better than stinky ass dogs does not make me a troll, poochfan I can post here if I like and you can go back to your mobile home and have carnal knowledge with your dogs to your hearts desire...

Doggirl: you are sweet dogboy is your puppy growing alot? sounds like an interesting mix .. is it going to be a big or small dog when it grows up?? I think the paw size has somethin to do with it

Catzsuk: CATPIG GO AWAY YOU LAME A@#($ M%@)@F*@)%^^ U SUCK!!!!!

Nomymutz: dogboy, you are a liar, as there is no way that a poodle and rottweiler inter-bred with each other, as the physiology of these particular species would make this match incompatable.... nice try...

Dogboy: nomymutz... thats wot the person I buyed Maxie from told me, so don call me a liar...

Catpig: nice, Catzsuk, cute name too, did you get a weekend pass to use the computer at the library, or do they have internet in the nuthouse now?

Doggirl: it's getting too nasty in here

Poochfan: you think u are so smart catpig, but you are just another basher like all the others

Onepostandgone: Hi puppy fans, I found a great sight and you should see if for yourself asit changed my life www.makemoneyinavandownbytheriver.com , see you there!

Queen City quiz....

Dear Congressman,

As I get closer to my move to urban Cincinnati, I wanted to share with you one of those silly internet lists that help distinguish whether you are a Cincinnatian or not....

Life in Cincinnati

You know you lived in Cincinnati if...

You know who the first pro baseball team was. (1869)

You call it 'pop' not soda or a soft drink.

You could take a picnic basket to Coney Island leave it on a table and
it was still there at lunch time.

You asked for a beer and it was brewed in Cincinnati.

You know 'Paul Baby's' last name was Dixon."

You watched "Hattie the Witch" featuring Larry Smith and his
Puppets every afternoon.

You remember the "Wild Mouse" at Coney Island.

Christmas wasn't complete until you went downtown to the CG&E
building and saw the model trains.

We don't say, Y'all, we say 'you guys' and that includes the women too

You know that Kahn's is "the wiener the world awaited."

You know who said "This is the old left-hander rounding third and
headed for home".

And you know who said "and this one belongs to the Reds"

You shopped 'downtown' at Shillitos, Pogues and McAlpins and for
special things Mabley and Carew.

You know who the Cool Ghoul was

You recognize the name "Ezzard Charles" but don't really
know who he was (Cincinnati's only Heavyweight Boxing Champion.)

You know that pigs do fly in Cincinnati, as can be seen by the four
majestic winged pigs on the river front.

You know that the Cincinnati Airport is not even in Ohio and that the
letters CVG stand for Covington, KY.

You know who said, "I don't care
about making money....I just looooovvve to sell carpet!"

You spend every weekend in October going to a different
"Oktoberfest."

You remember when the Bengals last went to the Superbowl, and gas was
$1.09 a gallon.

You know exactly when each parish has its festival and which ones are
the best.

And you know that chili is served in Chili Parlors, not restaurants.

You "warsh" your clothes.

You go to "Cook-outs" not BBQ's.

You wear "gym shoes" not sneakers or tennis shoes.

Anytime anyone wants to know where you graduated from, you answer
without hesitation, your high school...no one cares where you went to
college.

You know how to "Save Cash With Cash."

You know the "Cross Town Shootout" is not a wild west gun fight

You take a leisurely summer drive through a suburban neighborhood and
you see a cornhole game on every block.

You know the Daniel Carter Beard bridge is called the Big Mac Bridge.

Instead of saying "what?" you say "please?"

You add an 's' to the end of grocery store names, such as
Kroger(s) and Meijer(s.)

You drive on roads that change names at the county line, such as
Loveland-Madeira, Fields-Ertel, Hamilton-Mason and Cincinnati-Dayton.

You can buy beer by driving through a drive thru pole barn, or at the
"Pony Keg."

You believe that LaRosa's is fine Italian dining, and have a Buddy
Card.

You recognize Anthony Munoz as a former NFL player not a furniture
salesman.

Your local convenient store sounds like a labor union: United Dairy
Farmers.

You believe that Pete Rose should be in the hall of fame.

You miss Marge Schott and Schottzie.

You know what brats and metts are.

You know who Skipper Ryle was.

You are at a Bob Evans Restaurant and don't think it is strange to see
someone put ketchup on their eggs.

You like Nick Clooney better than George Clooney.

You know how Jerry Springer got his start (and that you shouldn't
write a check to a prostitute.)

You think a mixed marriage is where an East-Sider marries a West-Sider or
when an Ohio person marries a Kentucky person.

The ultimate clean up

Dear Congressman,

Good to see you on the television the other day as you bashed those law-breaking Demos currently laying siege to the White House for trying to manipulate their own party. After all, manipulating and distorting the Democratic party is a Republican job...

but I digress...

Today I wanted to point out an immanent danger to American as I see it.

This is a picture from an early view of the oil well spewing into the Gulf of Mexico. Since then we have been accorded a live feed of brownish goo replacing tranquil waters of the Gulf of Mexico with unprocessed hydrocarbons. We know this must be a feed from British Petroleum, because they still haven't figured out that the eleventh of May is abbreviated 5/11/10 and not 11/05/2010. Those wacky Brits!


The second image presented for your approval is a nice map of the Gulf of Mexico. As you can see, it is a fairly large body of water, however as 36 million barrels of oil (estimated-to-date) have been unleashed into this pond, you can imagine that there is probably an oil slick the size of small third world country floating around out there. Oil has washed up on Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida so far, with a chance of it migrating to the east coast courtesy of prevailing currents. However this could be changed by an occasional fall visitor to the Gulf.




Meet our friend, the hurricane. Hurricanes usually have their debutante balls between August and October in the Gulf, as the waters of the Atlantic Ocean warm and start throwing these spinning giants at this region. So, if we have a Katrina type category 5 hurricane swing through in mid-August, not only would they have to decouple the well to unleash more oil, but if the Hurricane made landfall on the US coast between Texas & Florida it would be the first Hurricane in history that delivered devastating winds , torrential rain, and a coat of West Texas Intermediate over a 500 mile area....




Reminds me why I live in Cincinnati...

Travelin' Man

Dear Congressman,

As we approach the end of our relationship I wanted to share a photo or two of why I am leaving your constituency and moving further south.

It is about 7:00am when I took this photo. Please note that one of the reasons I have been able to stand commuting 37 miles each way for the last 6 1/2 years was mainly due to the lack of other vehicles that this photo exhibits. If I had the same commute with heavy driving conditions I would currently not be sane. This is a view of the Carrol C. Cropper Bridge that spans the Ohio River between Indiana and Kentucky.


In case you are unaware that you are traveling between state lines, Kentucky has coughed up a couple of bucks for a small blue placard greeting the visitor/tourist/potential taxpayer/speed trap victim. They were so clever they even managed to fit the name of the current governor, Steve Beshear. Don't mind the disco ball in the picture, as I borrowed my wife's car this day. If I hung something from my rear-view mirror, it would definitely something more macho, like raw meat or a grenade...


On the return trip, we cross from the "amber waves of grain" that is Indiana back to the "birthplace of aviation" that is Ohio. Notice Ohio has a slightly larger budget as their display towers over the freeway inviting you into their realm. They too have the current sitting governor, Ted Strickland, clearly displayed. (Not that you can see it in this photo, but I was busy driving at the time so cut me some slack here.) Ohio makes me proud by going one step further and adding the Lt. Governor, Lee Fisher as well.


So by the end of the month I come to the end of my commute from Fairfield to CVG on a daily basis. I will be taking the bus from my new residence, a 15 minute bus ride from downtown Cincinnati to the Airport. Thus, my totals will be as follows:

Daily: 100 minutes /74 miles
Weekly : 8.33 hrs / 370 miles
Monthly: 35 hrs / 1,554 miles
Yearly: 416.67 hrs (or 17.36 days) / 18,500 miles
Total for 6 1/2 years: 2,708.33 hrs (112.85 days) / 120,250 miles (or 4.8 times around the earth)

Not that I am complaining...

Expecting...

Dear Congressman,

As I sit here typing, Melody is watching a very educational show entitled "Inside Edition". If you ever wondered what happened to Deborah Norville after she left the network morning shows, I can testify that she seems to have landed on her feet and appears to be doing just fine.

But I digress....

One of the stories they led with on this broadcast was that John Travolta and his wife Kelly Preston were expecting a baby. After tragically losing their teenage son Jett in January 2009, it was good to hear that they are still committed to each other and their family.

Then comes the irritating part...

They cut to a photo of John and Kelly taken last weekend, where Kelly was wearing a black loose-fitting dress, as they phrased it, to hide her "baby bump".

Baby bump... who came up with this lame-ass term? What the hell was so wrong with saying the words "pregnant" or "expecting" that we had to come up with baby bump. It sounds too much like speed bump to be taken seriously as a proper use of the English language.

Lets face it, it rolls off the tongue like a fur lined sandwich. Instead, why not come up with another useless but less annoying term, such as pregnancy paunch, knocked-up knot, bun-in-the-oven barrel, dead rabbit rise, up-the-duff distention, the jaggy jut, anticipation appendage, expectant excrescence, parturient protuberance, in-utero intumescence, obstetric outthrust, pre-natal protrusion, pudding club promontor, brood-mare mass, gestation gibbosity, replete roll or teeming tuberosity.

Anything but baby bump.....

Fast and easy

Dear Congressman,

Today I would like to talk to you about trading stocks. I have been trying to understand this whole high frequency trading business. It seems to be a pretty good deal for whoever is running these programs. Remember the Dow Average crashing over 1,000 points in a matter of minutes for reasons no one can explain (or maybe cares to explain) and, for the last year or two, the market has been lurching around like Edgar Allen Poe at an open-bar wedding reception? The reason why might be high frequency trading. But rather than tackle the entire market economy in one blog entry, let's concentrate on how high frequency trading works.

This is the process as I understand it. (please note I have simplified the steps somewhat but conceptually it should be correct)

1. I put in an order to buy stock, saying the most I am willing to pay is $10.

2. The other party out there wants $9.50 to sell their shares.

3. The high frequency program will (in milli-seconds) recognize this imbalance, buy the shares for $9.50 and sell them to me for $10, pocketing the 50 cents per share difference.

How is this allowed to happen, you ask?

Money, is the correct reply. For a fee, the high frequency traders are plugged into the trading computers and reading orders before they reach everyone else. So they can read the data ahead of time and make the markets more efficient, basically by skimming off of every transaction that comes across the exchange electronically.

So now we know how Goldman and the other "too big to fail" banks out there have been making insane amounts of money over the last year without providing any goods or services to promote the welfare of the country. They have found a new way to game the system. They are not only "too big to fail", but they are also "not too proud to cheat".

Since most mutual funds and hedge funds have figured this little game out, they have started trading in "black pools", where they are not subject to the shark fins attached to an algorithmic computer program. So who is getting skinned alive and not even aware of it?

You guessed it. It is you and me, the retail investor, that is paying the bill for this shell game. If it were anyone else other than the US taxpayer/uninformed investor, this process for printing money would have been shut down ages ago.

Technically, I am incorrect in calling High Frequency traders "cheats", as they are legal and highly profitable for the exchanges that allow them. I don't think I am incorrect in calling them unfair.

Boring poetry time again..

Dear Congressman,

Here is a quick poem on people dear to your heart:

O' plastic man of hope
Who stands tall amidst the chaos
Who wines and dines and shines and decides
Lead us please, oh please, oh please
Our anger is real and confusion is honest
Our convictions are steered and opinions swayed

But you stand tall, o' plastic man of hope
Pounding the table with your sculpted messages
Nay a hair out of place nor hint of lint
Perfect in ways and means of the heart
Appropriating with ease
Abstaining when you please
Defiantly sliding earmarks under the door on a moonless night

And now it is time for the Lobbyist's ball
which mask should you wear to this gay affair?
and with whom shall you dance to avoid making a stance?
all the while skirting the buffet table
with it's many tasty hors d'oeuvres all laid in a row
awaiting your submission to their tempting lure
be careful, o' plastic man of hope, be careful

Meanwhile, the way has become unclear
with danger abound and miscreants attempting to bringing you down
but you are solid in your stance, o' plastic man of hope
with your feet perfectly placed and arms locked in solid grip
of the magnificent crowbar you wield
separating the dollars from the sense
with simplicity and smiles for the minions who vote
as it is their dreams of the future you tenuously tote
so heavy the load carried on your well tanned back
for you always manage to do so with thoughtful stares and CSPAN teeth
well done! o plastic man of hope! well done!

The Strokes... not the band though...

Dear Congressman,

As you are well aware, May is national stroke prevention month. As a chain smoker, I thought it would be a good idea to relay to you that strokes are the third leading cause of death in the US and the leading cause of adult disability.

Here is a list I found of symptoms that would indicate you are potentially having a stroke.

Sudden numbness or weakness in the face, arm or leg especially on one side of the body
Confusion or trouble understanding
Trouble seeing in both eyes
Trouble walking, dizziness, loss of balance or coordination
Severe headache with no known cause

Personally,. I think the signs that they give for recognizing stroke are a little vague. Lets face facts here... if you throw out the first symptom from the list, you could be accurately describing 2/3rds of the US population over the age of 50 at any one point in time during the day. In fact, based on some of the Senate hearing panels I have observed recently, this would also accurately describe many senior members of that esteemed body as well.

All kidding aside, it is probably more important that individuals who are present with someone potentially in the throes of a stroke be aware of three steps to check and see if that individual might require medical attention. These are courtesy of Jane Brice, MD, assistant professor of emergency medicine at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill School of Medicine. In a matter of home town pride, the test is referred to as CPSS, or the Cincinnati Pre-Hospital Stroke Scale. It is a three part test as follows:

"Talk, wave, smile."

1. Tell the patient, "Show me your teeth." The "smile test" is used to check for one-sided facial weakness -- a classic sign of stroke.

2.Ask the patient to close their eyes and raise their arms. Stroke patients usually cannot raise both arms to the same height, a sign of arm weakness.

3. Ask the patient to repeat a simple sentence to check for slurring of speech, which is another classic sign of stroke. "The sky is blue in Cincinnati," and "Don't cry over spilled milk." are good examples to use.

That's it. If they fail that test, get them to the emergency room and save them from potential long term disability.

To reply... or not

Dear Congressman,

As you know we are currently selling off some of our possessions for the big move out of your district and into Steve Driehaus's domain. I guess I will have to change the blog title at that point, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

One thing we sold was a treadmill, which I got several interested parties contacting me regarding its status. To be fair, I contacted the people in order of receipt of their emails, and (as it happened) the first person who sent an email ended up purchasing the fine piece of Chinese made electronic exercise equipment.

More interesting was this exchange.

From: Heather & Andrew
To: sale-7ekev-xxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

Hi my name is vikke and I'm interested in the treadmill if still available please give me a call @ xxx-xxxx

http://cincinnati.craigslist.org/spo/xxxxxxxx.html

So the name in the title and the body of the email don't match. Made me a little suspicious that it might be a spammer, but didn't really know or care that much, but since I had sold the treadmill to another party, I thought it would be polite to just reply to the email and let them know it was sold.

From: devolution_9
To: Heather & Andrew
Sorry Vikke, it was sold last night.
Regards, Rich

End of story. Case closed. Turn out the lights... at least I thought....

In the mailbox this morning was the following:

From: Heather & Andrew
To: devolution_9
This is not her e-mail, I'm her friend, that's why she asked you to call her. I'll pass along the message however.

Now my first instinct after reading this was to go the sarcasm route on the reply, but as I do not know Heather personally, it is possible that Andrew makes a living harming other people in the boxing ring, so as I did not want to endanger my personal well-being, I decided to just put my possible replys here. So here goes...

From: devolution_9
To: Heather & Andrew
You are a true friend. How did Vikke get so lucky?

From: devolution_9
To: Heather & Andrew
And here I am thinking that Vikke was the Swahili spelling of Heather... my bad...

From: devolution_9
To: Heather & Andrew
Thank you for explaining the relationship between yourself and Vikke. I will sleep much better tonight knowing this.

From: devolution_9
To: Heather & Andrew
Heather, how do I know that you will really tell Vikke that she will not be hearing from me about the treadmill? I would hate to think that she spends the next few weeks waiting in vain for my call because you forgot to tell her. Think of the torment and anguish that she might go through just because you neglected to get back to her! She never gets to exercise, gains 200lbs, and leads a life of denial and self loathing all because of the treadmill she did not get. I hope you can live with yourself, Heather!

By the time I get to Phoenix ....

Dear Congressman,


It appears Arizona has come to the decision that the biggest problem facing these United States is not the record recession, high unemployment, or the housing bubble crisis. Nope, Arizona has pointed out that the biggest national problem is illegal immigration. Yes, those pesky Latin Americans who blatantly flaunt our laws by sneaking into Arizona, stealing purses from little old ladies in broad daylight, speaking Spanish in a completely un-American fashion, praying to a Catholic rather than Protestant God, working for wages that any red blooded American would turn their nose up at, and eating Mexican food other than that available from Taco Bell.

I apologize if I missed any stereotypical behavior, but I think I covered all the high points. So I thought I would help you in the halls of Congress by giving you a few suggestions on how to deal with this problem.

1. DNA laws of occupancy. This would be easy as DNA testing has come a long way since the days of the OJ Simpson trial. Arizona can simply pass a law stating that unless you can trace your DNA back to one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, then you are not welcome in their fine upstanding state. If you already live there, better contact a realtor and make your moving arrangements, because you are no longer welcome in Arizona. Exceptions can be made for Mayflower descendants on a case-by-case basis.

2. Internment camps for illegals. Yes, Arizona could be a real trend setter with this solution, bringing back those camps of the mid 1940s that stored our Americans of Japanese descent during World War II. In fact, all Arizona would have to do is pull out some old handbooks and fix up the old facilities, as the Poston and Gila River "War Relocation Centers", two of the largest internment camps from that era, are located inside Arizona's borders. They could even pass a law to require interned non-citizens to pay a boarding charge, thus reversing the long time flow of money from the USA and have those pesos coming north to Arizona.

Or finally,

3. Genocide. Politically incorrect but extremely expedient, Arizona can simply amend their current ruling on ID checks to stipulate that if you do not have the proper documents to prove your citizenship at all times, you are subject to immediate execution by the law enforcement official who is questioning you. This would prove another boon to the Arizona economy as ammunition and casket sales would skyrocket. Additionally, there would a corresponding boom in alcohol sales and psychiatric services for law enforcement personnel as they begin to show signs of stress from all of the killings they are duty sworn to perform for the great state of Arizona.

New Orleans Review

Dear Congressman,

Last October I went to New Orleans to attend a software conference. This was my second time to New Orleans and I wanted to share some photos from the visit.

Here is a photo of a shop on Bourbon Street that specializes in making people do things quicker. I was kind of surprised to see that a business for promoting efficiency had so many pictures of nearly naked women on their outer walls, but maybe that is a southern thing that I just don't get.







As you are probably aware, the New Orleans Saints won Superbowl XLIV (44 for those who are Latin impaired) I am impressed by that deed as the number of beads on this bar's roof leads me to believe that the throwing arms of the Greater New Orleans area are not of a pro-bowl caliber.

I would not be normal if I did not throw in a typical vacation photo. This is Melody and I standing guard over Bourbon Street, ensuing that the intoxicated general public is safeguarded from pickpockets, entertainers covered in silver paint trying to relieve tourist of small US denomination currency, and guys named LaTournee selling non-existent time shares in Shreveport.



I think this is Chris Owens outside her club without makeup on a Thursday morning clearing the vomit from the previous night's patrons off the sidewalk. I know many people would be surprised to see she was really blond, but the National Enquirer did not return my calls so I can't think it is that bizarre.










This is the famous Cafe Du Monde, which is french for "where the hell did all these cockroaches come from???". Note all the people who are obsessed with beignets and chicory coffee sitting in the outdoors section on a rain soaked afternoon, oblivious to the cockroach infestation that is occurring in the main building. Okay, I only saw one crawling up the wall earlier in the day, but where there is one, there is the population of a small city waiting to emerge!!!





And finally, I thing this door sign that Melody spotted in a quaint corner of the French Quarter really captured the essence of New Orleans. Viva la vie!!!!

Off Off Off Broadway

Dear Congressman,

Glad to hear you are on break so you do not have to sneak out the back of the Capitol Building for a quick smoke, as you can now just plunk down in your humble abode and puff away.

For your entertainment, I did some research on the upcoming Broadway season in New York. It appears that besides the main theaters and the off Broadway shows, there is now a new arena for shows that big producers turned down but the littler backers are willing to give some dosh. You probably will not see any advertising for these shows due their limited budgets, but here are the ones I found out about so far.

Sophie's Choice
A musical comedy based on the book by William Styron, have a grand evening as you, Stingo, Nathan and Sophie interact while slurring their words to everyone's amusement. Laughter continues with the audience participation act, where you get to choose for Sophie which child lives or dies, and then based on their reactions to her retelling of the tale, you decide who commits suicide in the final act.

Chuck Norris, the Musical
The producers claim this show is so entertaining that it will leave you in stitches. From what the script outlays, this is probably the case as the show involves cast members randomly roaming the audience and beat the crap out of any spectator who looks like they need a good ass-kicking. Songs adapted for the extravaganza include the Carl Douglas 70's classic "Kung Fu Fighting" and Kid Rock's anthem "American Bad Ass".

Cherry Pie
Break out the spandex and hair crimper as 80's metal takes it's turn on the stages of New York. Take a stroll down memory lane to the days of Reagan and Thatcher as actors accurately portray the decadence of drug use, womanizing, and general debauchery that was the Metal Era. You'll laugh... you'll cry... you'll wonder how many venereal diseases the band member contracted.

Michael
Can't get enough of Michael Jackson? Well neither can his other fans, or his family's deep love and respect of his world renowned name, as Jackson Productions presents the spectacular "Michael, the Jackson Family officially authorized Tribute to the Greatest Entertainer Ever". A guaranteed dandy of a show with the commitment from the Jacksons that at least one family member will be in the cast every night of the production. Also, two lucky fans per night who cough up the $35 for the official "Michael, the Jackson Family officially authorized Tribute to the Greatest Entertainer Ever" programme will be delirious to discover that Michael's father, Joe Jackson, has had his assistant personally sign them!!!

Scenes around town...

Dear Congressman,

I was bored last weekend and decided to take a few pictures around town with my digital camera. I thought I would share several of them with you. (kudos to atom.smasher.org for the templates!)

Another story for Thursday

Dear Congressman,

Today I thought it might be a nice for you to hear another story from my past for your entertainment.

In the spring of 1978 I was attending the American Community School of Wimbledon. ACS-Wimbledon was a part of a "for-profit" group that started American curriculum schools in the London area to service the overflow of students from ASL (American School of London). Since ASL was at full capacity at that time, I attended the Wimbledon school for the second half of my freshman year. It was a nice building on a street called Parkside, directly across the street from Wimbledon Common.

At the time I lived about 50 miles to the south in Horsham, West Sussex. To get to class everyday, I had walk to about a mile or so to Horsham station, take a British Rail train up to Wimbledon, and then finish my journey by walking the mile or so from Wimbledon station to the school. To go home was a reverse of the above trip.

But I digress...

This tale is about a ride home to Horsham one sunny afternoon. I caught the train at my usual stop, and since Horsham was a small town the train was an "all stops to" train as opposed to an express that zipped point to point with out bothering to pick up any additional paying passengers along the way.

It was in April, so the temperature outside was in the high 50's. The train was full until we reached Epsom Downs, at which point most people got off. I was sitting alone, reading a homework assignment to make the time go by quicker, and the only other passenger was a young lady in school uniform who was sitting facing toward me several rows ahead.

We were just pulling out of Ashtead station when another person got on the train. I clearly remember him as he had very long black hair that was straight and shiny. From this trait combined with his complexion, I would have to say that he was of American Indian descent, which immediately struck me as strange since I was sitting on a southbound British rail train in the suburbs of London.

But I was wrong. That was not the strange part....

As the train pulled away, he did not sit in one of the many available empty seats, but stood near the rows of seats facing toward me but just in front of where the young girl was sitting. Without speaking a word, he reached into the breast pocket of the shirt he was wearing and pulled out a deck of cards. He then proceeded to remove cards from the deck one-by-one, stare at them for a second or so, and then fling them forward like he was trying to hit some invisible target. The look on his face was not threatening or maniacal, just a blank stare as he worked his way through the deck.

This activity went on for a good six minutes as we traveled between Ashtead and Leatherhead stations. Once we pulled into Leatherhead and came to a stop, he put the remaining cards back into his pocket, walked quickly to the nearest exit, and proceeded to get off the train.

After he had left, the young girl and I exchanged the same “did we just see what we thought we saw” glances, but the twenty or so playing cards remaining on the floor of the train carriage he had left behind proved testament to what we had just observed. We then went back to our individual reading materials and gave the matter no more thought that day.

To this day I wonder who the heck this guy was and what the heck he was doing. I always thought that maybe I caught him on a good day, before he went into a rage and slaughtered everyone at the pub the next night, but that was the one and only time I ever saw this individual.

As I am fond of saying, "it takes all kinds...".

For your love....

Dear Congressman,

It appears that Jesse James, like Tiger Woods before him, is headed for "treatment" for his "problem". This is the latest trend for the adulterous American husband; to enter a clinic to find out the reason why they have a compulsion to copulate with any female who happens to glance in their direction.

For the record, I will note that rather than calling it "sex therapy", the correct term for this treatment would be better labeled as "monogamy training", as I doubt the wish of the meandering party's significant other is that they become asexual and join a cult, but to focus their libido driven urges on the person they so dutifully marched down the aisle with in the first place.

When a person makes a lifelong commitment to another and then goes out and has a fling with yet another, it is considered a sin by most religions, an act of betrayal by their spouse, and a display of low moral fiber by their peers. But what should it be called when you never even took a second to remember your wedding vows? Sleeping with as many girls as possible after you are married is not a mistake, it is a character flaw.

Take for example: "I think my wife searched my phone, so please remove your name from your phone... can you do that for me? Thanks, this is Tiger...huge...."

Really! You think this is a good idea? It might have worked out for you if there was a single mistress that you were spending all your waking hours outside of the PGA tour, but what were you going to do about the other hundred or so single females you were stringing along? I think something along these lines might have been a more appropriate message:

"Hi, it's Tiger, listen up because this is important. I think my wife might be on to us... so if you are someone I regularly stoink in the Eastern time zone, please press one for further instructions. For the West Coast press two. For anywhere in between, press three. If you are a casual friend that I have only done the deed with once or twice, please leave a message so I can attempt to get you into the regular rotation....... BEEP.....

And as for Jesse, I don't think Sandra is going to run right out and get a bunch of tattoos anytime soon, so if that is your thing, then maybe you need to have them tattooed on your eyeballs so then everyone will have a tattoo and you will no longer feel like you are missing out on something...

Or not....

Bah! India!

Dear Congressman,

While you are throwing rocks at those liberals ruining the United States of America, I found an interesting story about your English counterparts, the Conservative Party. (They are also know as the Tories, but that is a story for another day.) That bastion of liberal journalism, the New York Times, wrote a front page piece today on an English conservative party member named Sir Nicholas Winterton, who since 1971 has been the Member of Parliament representing the town of Macclesfield, a mid-size town about 25 miles south of Manchester.

We are a little slow on the uptake here in the USA on other county's political systems, but with everything that is going on with the big health care fight and all, I can understand why the Times reporters did not break this one any sooner.

It appears that the Conservative party in the UK is leading in the polls for the next general election, which the Labour Party will be required to call some time in the next year or so. The Conservatives have a reputation in the UK of being stodgy, elitist, and out of touch with the average British resident. Their leader, David Cameron, has worked diligently to reverse this stereotype and portray his party in a new light, one that cares for the needs of the voting public and will champion their cause in the House of Commons.

Except for Sir Nicholas....

Quoted from Wikipedia: "On 18 February 2010 during a BBC Radio 5 Live interview he defended MPs travelling first class by saying that people who traveled in standard class on trains were a "totally different type of people."


As Seth and Amy would say.... "Really, Sir Nicholas, really?"

And what type of people would that be? Would that be say...hmmm... the voting public? It appears Sir Nicholas wants to distant himself from the serfs and peasants that compose the majority of his constituency and hid among the numerous earls, barons, dukes, marquises, and occasional OBE that happens to be part of his social circle. It must be ssssooooooo hard to have to listen to their sniveling constant whining about living conditions and poor schools and crime rates and busy roads and this and than and so on and so on.... What a perfect world it would be if we could go back to the days of the early realm, where these ill-bred types were kept in their place and a gentlemen could go about a gentleman's business, spending time at the local men's only society sipping port, smoking the finest cigars, and discussing (and solving) the biggest world problems of the day before dinner.

So to you Sir Nicholas, we send our heart-felt sincerest regrets that the world has moved on and left you standing at the train station because there was not a first class car available in which for you to ride...

Jolly bad show, what!

And to Mr. Cameron... good luck old stick, you are going to need it with this baggage.

Happy St Paddy's Day

Dear Congressman,

Since today is St. Patrick's day and everyone in the US pretends they are of Irish descent while wearing green clothing and drinking insane amounts of beer, I thought it would be appropriate to present something Irish for your entertainment.

So, without further delay, here is a summary of a story written by an Irishman


The Reader’s Digest Condensed Version of James Joyce’s Ulysses

Episode 1: Stephen: “You suck, Buck!”

Episode 2: Stephen: “You’re making me queasy, Deasy.”

Episode 3: Stephen (to himself): “I miss my mom…life was different in Paris… I got a great idea for a poem!... Boy, I gotta pee.”

Episode 4: Leopold: “Here’s breakfast and a letter from Milly, Molly. Excuse me while I go make number two.”

Episode 5: Leopold: “I wish that damn tram would get out of the way!”

Episode 6: Leopold: “Paddy was a good man, but do you realize you have a dent in your hat?”

Episode 7: Read all about it! Read all about it! Leopold and Stephen are in newspaper office at same time and don’t talk to each other! Read all about it!

Episode 8: Leopold: “I’m hungry… those people are disgusting… Venus has a nice ass…what the hell does that postcard mean?...oh crap! There’s Boylan”

Episode 9: Stephen: “Shakespeare’s wife liked to do it” Buck: “So does Leopold, except I think with you.”

Episode 10: A bunch of folks wandering through Dublin… nothing to see here….

Episode 11: Leopold: “Good dinner, but what the Blazes?”

Episode 12: Citizen: “Leopold , you are a %(@#%&#$ jew!” Leopold: “I’m outta here!”

Episode 13: Leopold: “Oh lord, she is so hot!” Gerty: “He is kind of hot in a sad way!”

Episode 14: Leopold: “Is it a boy? A girl? Or a history of English prose?”

Episode 15: Leopold: “Am I in a brothel…nah… it must be a bad dream… come on Stephen., lets get out of here before the walls melt again.”

Episode 16: Leopold & Stephen (singing) : “What do you do with a drunken sailor!”

Episode 17: Leopold: “If ya gotta piss, mind the dog!”

Episode 18: Molly: “Make your own breakfast!... What should I wear to Belfast?... I wonder how you spell metempsychosis?...I am really bored….I wonder where Lieutenant Mulvey is now?... Is Milly a younger me?.... Does Stephen like me?.... I guess I still love Leopold….

The end

A story for Thursday

Dear Congressman,

Today I wanted to relay a story that I told my granddaughter over the weekend. It is not an adventure filled saga, or one that many would find particularly interesting, but for some reason I felt a need to tell it.

In September of 2003, my wife and I went to a reunion of high school friends from my days in London, England. As the reunion was in Ottawa, we decided to spend some time in Niagara Falls and Toronto before descending on Ottawa with the rest of the attendees.

This event happened in Toronto, early on a sunny Sunday morning. We were staying up on Bloor Street after getting a good weekend rate at the Hilton. Our weekend involved wandering around the streets of Toronto and exploring the ambiance of the city. This particular morning we walked down Younge Street toward the lake and stopped at that bastion of American cuisine, McDonalds, for a quick breakfast. Not that the Hilton did not have a fine breakfast buffet in their own restaurant, but at $30 Canadian each for the privilege of nibbling on their fare, we opted to spend our dollars elsewhere.

It was about 8:00am when we went for breakfast, so there was only a scattering of people at the McDonalds when we approached from the hotel. As we entered, there was a lady standing outside of the building silently talking to herself. Her appearance was that of a street person, with generous layers of clothing to fight off the evening chill, but with muted colors so as not to stand out too much. I perceived her to be fairly young, in her twenties, but the age of the homeless is hard to gauge, as she had adapted that timelessness that comes with limited options in life.

We entered the McDonalds, leaving her standing outside, still talking to herself quietly while scanning the street for threats both imaginary and real. There was a short line at the ordering counter which went quickly, and we settled down in one of the hard plastic booths to eat our breakfast and drink our coffee.

As we sat eating, a young gentleman walked away quickly from the counter after he had bought two breakfast sandwiches. He had taken one out of the bag, unwrapped it, and taken a bite all before reaching the front door of the store. As he exited, without breaking stride, he reached into the bag and held the other breakfast sandwich out to the young lady we saw earlier. She took the sandwich from him and just stared at his back as he continued up the street consuming the sandwich he kept.

At this point a subtle change came over our friend. It was not a quantum shift, like a mood swing, but she quit talking to herself and ended the constant rearguard action of scanning the surrounding area for the evil forces that lurked nearby. She held the breakfast sandwich in her hand for a minute, slowly peeling back the yellow paper covering to see what it contained. After examining the item fully, she carefully re-wrapped it so it's appearance was that of one newly served.

Our young lady then looked up and walked briskly into the store, holding her entry pass in front of her in her right hand as she headed for the condiment table. Once there she perused the contents, collecting several napkins, packets of salt and some of pepper, and several ketchup and mustard packages. Once her bounty had been collected, she found a table in the center of the near-empty McDonalds.

We were still finishing our breakfast, so I observed her from the short distance that separated us. She had used the salt and pepper on the sandwich, but had pocketed the other condiments for later consumption. Under the yellow wrapper, she had neatly arranged the brown generic napkins into a form of tablecloth. Her head was now held higher, as if she had been magically empowered by the sandwich. She ate it slowly, taking small bites and chewing thoroughly, like an unseen relative was judging her table manners as she engaged in the morning repast that had unfolded before her.

I was still sipping coffee when she finished. She placed the napkins and used condiment packets into the yellow wrapper before wadding it up into a small ball. Arising from the chair, she walked quickly by the trash receptacle, dropped the bundle inside and shuffled back to her spot adjacent to the front door of the McDonalds to continue her vigil. We left soon after to continue our day of exploring, and I was tempted to slip her some money as we walked past her. But for some reason I chose not to do so.

I wonder to this day if I had witnessed a ritual that occurred on a regular basis, or if this was a one off opportunity that the young lady took as an opportunity to dine inside. We passed by there later in the day, however she was gone by that point, off to stand guard in another of Toronto's many boulevards.

TSA trauma

Dear Congressman,

There has been a lot of controversy over the new full body scanners that airport security agencies are now adapting since the attempted Christmas Day bombing. Critics of the new scanners, specifically the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union), refer to this process as a "virtual strip search".

Since the scanners provide a front and back image of all passenger's bodies that pass through the scanner, the Transportation Security Administration will be able to see through clothing and determine if anyone is trying to board a plane with 2lbs of explosives attached to their groin.

Per the TSA, they have taken steps to protect privacy, including the blurring of all faces, personnel inspecting the screening will not have direct contact with passengers, and assertions that the images are deleted soon after they are reviewed.

This is all well and good, but I personally have a serious concern regarding the implementation of this new technology.

My concern is obvious. It is about the TSA screeners who will spend at least 30 hours a week viewing these images looking for threats to the US transportation system. For reference to what I am referring, take an hour this weekend and drive to your local Wal-Mart. Grab a shopping cart and circle the store a few times. Try to imagine seeing all of the people you pass in the aisles naked.

I think you see my point here. Within a short period of time, all of these screeners will begin to develop a form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from having to constantly look at screen shots of an obese general public that passes through their particular airport.

Sure, they might smile once in a while at the occasional Apollo or Aphrodite as they across their screen, but the majority of images will be of people who only know "curls" from the Arby's menu and believe it is exercise to get out of the Lazy-Boy to get another beer during commercials. The "yards of lard" that they will be expected to examine on a daily basis will become a vision that they can not shake. It will cause sleepless nights due to fears of dreaming of raging lipids and then general anxiety every workday morning when they realize that they must again examine screen shots of endless overweight individuals while trying to identify potential contraband almost completely masked by massive gelatinous fat layers.

That, my friends, is not a job I would wish on anyone.....

The fees....the fees..... the fees...

Dear Congressman,

By the end of this month, credit card companies will be regulated by new guidelines established by you and your co-workers during last year's sessions of Congress. Since these companies are going to be limited in some of their previous practices that generated much of their profits, they have begun to announce a whole new set of fees that will allow them to pad their bottom lines with additional profits courtesy of the taxpayers.

Examples include one bank charging an "inactivity fee" of $19 if you do not use your card in a 12 month period. Another more drastic fee is a $60 annual fee if card holders charge less than $2,400 a year, as rolled out by one of our wonderful Fortune 100 bailed-out financial institutions. So don't forget to charge that $200 per month to avoid that fee!

But as the need for fees drives on, I believe that banks and processing companies will only get more aggressive when it comes to this topic. Here are some ideas for them to ponder.

Early internet payment fee - Yes, it is a real hassle for the banks when you pay your credit card too early, as they have to go to the trouble of applying your payment outside of their "planned window", thus clogging up their administrative infrastructure.To fix this irritating problem, banks will designate a 30 minute period on a monthly basis when you can pay your bill online. If you miss this window, it's a $39 fee. Typically, for everyone's convenience, the window will be open between 3:30am-4:00am Eastern Standard Time on the first Sunday of the month.

Call center fee - Yup, those fine folks over in India have to eat as well, so the major banks will be instituting a fee for every time you feel the need to call the 1-800 number on the back of your card. No a lot of money, just a simple $5 connection fee and then 35 cents a minute after that, conveniently billed directly to your card!

Bonus administration recovery fee - Every year the banks issue their bonus checks, and then the majority of the payroll staff quit in disgust when they see insane amount of money the top 10% of employees are paying themselves, while they are trying to get by on an annual salary that is less than an average executive team member's monthly expense allowance. Thus, the bank incur an ongoing irritation of having to constantly hire menial payroll staff to process their grotesquely large annual payouts. A consultant was hired by a number of banks to address this problem and recommended that they forgo a small portion of their bonuses to placate the disgruntled employees by sharing it with them. The banks thanked the consultants for their hard work, escorted them the door, and then proceeded to institute this fee on cardholders to offset the additional costs of continuously hiring new payroll department employees on an on-going basis.

BWC fees - If you read your credit card statement it will say the following: BWC fees are levied on all customers of XXX bank as per outlined in the cardholder agreement dated January 31, 2010. BWC fees are calculated as 0.01% of all outstanding balances on a 28 day cycle, and billed in arrears. If you pay your balance in full each month, then your BWC fees will not be billed in the ensuing month's activity, provided that BWC waiver conditions are met. BWC waiver conditions require that once during the 28 billing period that the BWC fees are accrued, a verified 1/4 inch or more of snowfall is recorded in an area commonly defined as the Sahara Desert. (if you read far enough into the fine print, you will find the BWC stands for : "Because We Can")

Nature's Way

Dear Congressman,

Hopefully you are hunkered down somewhere in DC riding out the same weather system that is currently distributing copious amounts of frozen precipitation over your constituents. It was all rain in the metro area for the majority of the day before being a cold front redefined the rules of weather and brought the white death to our door steps.

So in honor of this moment, I scratched out another boring poem.

Try to stay awake this time....

I open the door to study the night
and the cold hits me hard ... and soft
as the silent way of nature's path
carves a loud scar in the sky

I try to suck it all in
the wet and the cold and the stillness and the calm
but the dryness and heat and the noise and activity
relieve me of my need for civility

So I scream at the heavens
and venture into the white
with little to lose
and much to invite

My senses excited
but my mind in a blur
I approach life decisions
to again just defer

the choices, elections, desires and craves
upon which existence sits still and behaves

I envision sherry and too many mince pies
I dream of a peacefulness not entangled with lies

I see war not declared
and peace run abounds

I hear words of sincerity
and ignore threats of despair

but my abode yonder beckons
to bring me inside
to relieve my anxieties
and restore my tattered pride

the door is now closing
the silent disappears
the path of nature's way
has now become clear

Live from Capitol Hill

Dear Congressman,

Sorry I have been remiss in updating you regularly via this blog, however I have been fairly busy recently with mundane but necessary life events. In fact, my main de-blogging factor has been paperwork, and lots of it.

But I digress...

Today I thought I would present missing transcripts from a Senate hearing the other day about the attempted Christmas bombing.

Sound of gavel banging

Senator Blouhard : This session will come to order. First victim...errr... witness will be acting head of the Transportation Security Administration, Dr. Michael Searcher. Please swear in the witness...

Mumbling and hands on a bible take place.

Senator Blouhard : Would anyone like to make an opening statement?

All Senators raise their hands and start talking at the same time.

Senator Blouhard : Eh... well, given our limited amount of time available due to prior commitments of the committee members, lets just get right to the questioning. Senator Vaine?

Senator Vaine: (staring right into the camera) Yes, Dr. Searcher, what exactly were you doing, other than not doing your job, when this man attempted to blow up this plane?

Dr. Searcher : Senator, as it was Christmas day, I spent most of the day with my family, except in the evening, when I went to an event at....

Senator Vaine : So let me get this straight, while terrorists were putting in place a plan to destroy the transportation infrastructure of these United States of America, you were gaily attending a wild party, drinking and cavorting with others and ignoring the threats against our beloved nation.

Dr. Searcher : Yes, Senator, in fact I remember seeing you there, since it was at your house and you personally had invited me.

Senator Vaine : Please let the record show that the acting director freely admitted to abandoning his duties. Thank you chairperson, I am done with this witness.

Senator Blouhard : The chair recognizes Senator Hogg.

Senator Hogg : So Dr Searcher, how long have you been drinking on the job?

Dr. Searcher : (Bewildered look) Excuse me, Senator? I don't ever remember drinking while working.

Senator Hogg : So you are telling me that you consume so much alcohol on a regular basis that you can't even remember doing it???? (stated loudly into the microphone for effect)

Dr. Searcher : That is not what I meant.

Senator Hogg : So you do sometimes remember you are at your desk even though you are completely soused?

Dr. Searcher : Senator, you are twisting my words.

Senator Hogg : Let the record show that the witness refused to answer the question.

Senator Blouhard : Thank you for that incite, Senator Hogg. The chair now recognizes Senator Egomon.

Senator Egomon : Let me say for the record, sir, that I am disgusted by your very presence. How do you live with yourself, sir, when helpless people could have been killed needlessly on that airplane on Christmas day, all because of your affinity for alcohol and love of the nightlife. If anyone lost their life that night, it would have been on your head, and I would have done everything in my power to make sure that you would have prosecuted to the full extent of the law, up to and including your execution, which I would have gladly attended and watched while they strap you up to Old Sparky and run 1.1 jigawatts through your worthless torso!!!!!

Dr. Searcher stares blankly with his mouth wide open. He turns to his counsel next to him. His counsel leans forward to the microphone.

Dr. Searcher's attorney : Does the Senator have an actual question for the witness?

Senator Egomon :Yes, I do. Dr. Searcher, since you have obviously failed miserably at your one main appointed task of preventing terrorist from attempting to kill innocent Americans, why should we not just have the District of Columbia police department come over to your offices, beat you senseless with nightsticks as you fully deserve, and throw you out onto the front lawn of the TSA administrative building so the American public can pummel you as well?

Dr. Searcher continues to stare at Senator Egomon without responding. He again turns to counsel.

Dr. Searcher's attorney :Dr. Searcher elects to invoke his fifth amendment rights at this time.

Dr. Searcher now stares at his attorney in disbelief. Flashbulbs are going off and loud background noise rises from the gallery as Senator Blouhard bangs his gavel and tries to maintain order.

END OF TRANSCRIPT...