tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-322431252024-03-07T18:30:14.390-08:00Vermont Snarky BoyHey. I’m Snarky Boy. I live deep in the recesses of a sometimes fertile but most of the time juvenile mind. I don’t take anyone seriously – especially myself. In fact, I long for a time when Vermont doesn’t take itself too seriously. Hype is one thing, but believing it is quite another. It’s okay to laugh while you’re here. I’m laughing while writing.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comBlogger237125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-50183040001137703102011-07-04T13:56:00.003-07:002011-07-04T13:59:27.418-07:00Um. Like. Whatever.Fuck. You've been lame in my absence. <div><br /></div><div>But I'm coming back. Only because there's way too much shit to make fun of.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm now at a place called <a href="http://www.snarkyboy.com">SnarkyBoy.com</a> (only because it's going to make me some money this time around). Get there. Reset your browser. And let me know how you're feeling and all. </div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-79790132809837664912007-10-02T08:13:00.000-07:002007-10-02T08:16:47.917-07:00Time OutYo. Thanks for all the emails, folks. I appreciate the feedback and the interest. But, for now, if you want to continue playing (and reading), you need to re-direct your browser to <a href="http://www.broadsides.org">here</a>. Hopefully, it will all make sense. <br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Snarky BoySnarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-25232866731176314012007-08-23T12:23:00.001-07:002007-08-23T12:23:33.196-07:00Snarky Boy Warm-up Drills<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/tquSRFKuv4Q' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/tquSRFKuv4Q'/></object></p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-14620994364894307522007-08-23T12:14:00.001-07:002007-08-23T12:14:02.236-07:00This Ain't No Wow No More (The Kills)<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/TJ5g8BTLHCw' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/TJ5g8BTLHCw'/></object></p><p><br /></p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-43243446700430668202007-08-16T16:52:00.001-07:002007-08-16T16:52:04.612-07:00Max Roach-R.I.P.<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/9wnW2KLWE-g' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/9wnW2KLWE-g'/></object></p><p>Thanks, Max, for getting me through many nights. </p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-35488040458799813682007-08-08T14:26:00.000-07:002007-08-08T14:29:22.363-07:00Snarky Sports: NASCAR & The Baby JesusSnarky Boy loves NASCAR. Yep. Deal with it. It’s the best comedy going, folks. It’s unapologetic, unvarnished, and un-fucking-believably American. And around and around they go. And so I loved the news last week that NASCAR’s favorite outlaw, Tony Stewart (#20), was admonished and fined by racing officials for saying the word “bullshit” while being interviewed on national television. According to ESPN, “NASCAR called the language inappropriate and said Stewart’s actions were detrimental to stock-car racing.”<br /><br />See what I mean? That’s funny. And since bullshit is a two-syllable word, I doubt that many NASCAR fans even understood what Stewart was saying. But, seriously, if you’ve ever been to a NASCAR race – I have – you’ll know that bullshit is one of the more family friendly words being uttered in the grandstands. But in the new world of sports marketing, everyone’s got to pretend to be pure – even NASCAR. Now THAT’S bullshit.<br /><br />So <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=zKDC2iBQTYg">click here</a> and let’s pray together.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-68282702776270366222007-08-08T08:10:00.000-07:002007-08-08T08:18:19.209-07:00Snarky Mail Time!Okay, okay, let’s get to the Snarky mail. You folks have been busy – filling my box with all kinds of quips, tips and those lovely little missives involving the infliction of pain to certain Snarky Boy body parts. Ouch. But at least you’re reading. <br /><br />First up, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Mr. Mark Johnson</span> again. He’s now declared that he’s done whining to the Snarkmaster. Whew. Now let’s hope he readjusts his sense of humor and, better yet, begins to extend his reach beyond the same old politicians and same old advertisers as his guests. He remains the king of Vermont radio in Snarky’s book but we’d like to see his playful side a bit more often. His declaration to stop whining about this blog is a good step in the right direction. Now let’s re-open those talks about a snarky co-host. I think I know just the guy…<br /><br />I’ve also been inundated with ninny missives about local Dems, particularly those seven Dems who nest over at Odumb’s Green Mountain Daily site. Please, people, how many times do I have to tell you: Odumb’s an idiot underachiever who would rather eat cotton candy than process a coherent thought. Hell, he can’t even trust his seven Dem dwarfs over there, since several of them are secretly emailing Snarky Boy begging me to continue taking whacks at him in the hopes that he’ll pull the high-drama card again (yawn) and quit. Sorry, but whacking Odumb is like kicking kittens. It’s just not fair – or fun. Just let him keep suckling on the partisan teats of Dem-witted nonsense and he won’t bother or inspire anyone except those seven irrelevant dopes who apparently have nothing better to do but continue their little circle jerk. Whatever. Note to the GMDers who want me to jump in again: Fight your own fights. Or, better yet, get a life. <br /><br />Even though I’m now an office-sort-of-guy, I’ve still got my boots on the ground when it comes to the blue-collar tips. Consider, for example, the nugget I got last week from a Barre town employee who told me that the mainstream media got the July flood story all wrong. As you’ll recall, the Times Argus and others ran with the story that the flash flooding that sent six-feet of water into the downtown streets was the result of the new development going on up on the hillside. Well, according to my source, that’s only a small part of the problem. The bigger problem is that Barre’s storm drains have been hopelessly neglected, leaving them plugged and unable to handle the amount of water they were designed to handle. But the folks in City Hall, led by the smarmy <span style="font-weight:bold;">Mayor Thom Lauzon</span>, have successfully diverted the media from the real story of the neglected storm drains, thus saving their own asses from the embarrassment and culpability of their infrastructure neglect. Yo Mayor Thom, how about some truth?<br /><br />Speaking of infrastructure neglect, let’s talk bridges. As many of you know, the Minneapolis story hit home with Snarky Boy because, well, I drive on bridges. Gotcha there, huh? You gotta love how politicians all over the country – including our own Howdy Doody Douglas – are rushing to look like they’ve got the bridge situation under control. But Republicans like Douglas shouldn’t be allowed to wipe the egg from their faces quite so quickly. They do, after all, run every election on the mantra of slashing the big, evil central government. You know, that evil empire that does things like...oh…maintain our national infrastructure. And then a neglected bridge pancakes its passengers and the political whores deny their budget slashing ways as fast as you can say “liar, liar, pants on fire.”<br /><br />Taste this delicious intro to yesterday’s New York Times piece on the bridge collapse:<br /><br /><blockquote>In the past two ears, Gov. Tim Pawlenty of Minnesota twice vetoed legislation to raise the state’s gas tax to pay for transportation needs. <br /><br />Now, with at least five people dead in the collapse of the Interstate I-35W bridge here, Mr. Pawlenty, a Republican, appears to have a change of heart.<br /><br />“He’s open to that,” Brian McClung, a spokesman for the governor, said Monday of a higher gas tax.</blockquote><br /><br />That, my friends, is what’s called a whiplash-inducing flip-flop. You just gotta love it when Republicans crank up the tax to save their own ass. Because we all know they don’t really hate taxes, they just hate taxes that don’t either line the pockets of their friends or get them re-elected. Principles? Fuck that. <br /><br />And let’s not let the Dems off the hook, either. They’re whoring themselves on this issue, too. Surprise, surprise. While there’s a convenient Republican in the center of this storm, the Dems are in full cahoots in the game of transportation earmarks that are leaving bridges like the one in Minneapolis is deep, deep jeopardy. As the Times reported yesterday, the game of transportation earmarks – those not-so-little financial gifts congress members get for their districts – are almost always designated for “sexy” new projects, rarely for repair and simple upkeep. Don’t believe me? How many times have you seen Leahy or Sanders stand in front of an ugly old bridge and hear them declare than they just got the federal loot to repair it? ECHO Centers are better for the political ego, my friends. <br /><br />Speaking of political ego, let’s get back to Vermont’s Republicans. If, like me, you’re a bit nervous about crossing certain Vermont bridges in the wake of the Minnesota tragedy, well, you should be. Because guess who’s in control of Vermont’s Department of Transportation? An engineer? Nope. A transportation expert? Nope. A seasoned highway safety professional. No way. Think politics, baby. As in: <span style="font-weight:bold;">Neale Lunderville</span>, Governor Douglas’ former campaign manager and the former director of the Vermont Republican Party. Barely a decade beyond being legally able to sit next to me at Charlie O’s, Lunderville’s running the Vermont’s DOT for exactly two reasons: political payback and to remain in the Douglas political circle. Yep, as in: political science, Lunderville’s major way back in the – oh – late nineties. Here’s another way to look at it: The 32-year old Lunderville is eight years younger than the Minneapolis bridge that collapsed. And to think they’re calling the bridge young. But, please, I’ve got nothing against young fellas, I’ve just got a beef with young fellas taking jobs they have absolutely no experience with, especially when it may impact the likelihood that I’m still alive after crossing a fucking bridge. But notice, dear readers, that Vermont’s mainstream media – including 7 Daze – won’t touch this part of the story. Instead, we’re getting one bullshit piece after another that features young Neale reassuring us that everything’s a-okay in Vermont. Lap it up, folks. <br /><br />Finally, thanks to the Snarky reader who sent me <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/tech/webguide/internetlife/2007-08-06-blogger-union_N.htm">this story</a> about bloggers unionizing. Sounds good to me. Now if I could just find a blogging boss I’d be all set. Anyone looking to plunk down about 30K for your very own snarky wordsmith? First come, first served. I promise. (Memo to my current boss: I love you.)<br /><br />Thanks for playing, folks. It wouldn’t be the state’s most popular blog without your tips and quips. Keep ‘em coming to me at <span style="font-weight:bold;">VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com</span>.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-1214798831745511282007-08-07T06:46:00.001-07:002007-08-07T06:50:39.659-07:00Driving with Mr. BillThere’s nothing really funny about <a href="http://www.timesargus.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070807/NEWS02/708070335/1003/NEWS02">Senator Bill Doyle playing crash ‘em up derby</a> in the parking lot of a car dealership. Or is there? Yeah, there is. Lots, in fact. We all know him. We’ve all seen him. So it’s not real hard to imagine. The real shocker is that he hasn’t done it before. But the best part of the story is the excuse Old Bill gave to the Times Argus: “Doyle said the brake and accelerator pedals were located more closely together on the Impreza than in the larger vehicles. And he noted that his shoe size is unusually wide, making it more difficult to negotiate the pedal system.” Yeah right, Bill. Whatever you say. <br /><br />Okay, let’s let Old Bill get away with that excuse. But now let’s look a little deeper into the story. Here, again, is an excerpt from the Times Argus story this morning: “Doyle said he was having lunch with his wife, Olene, on Thursday, and decided to test drive cars. The senator did not have his driver’s license with him, and was told by the Twin City sales staff that he could only drive vehicles on the dealership lot, not out on the road.”<br /><br />Hmm, he had to be told that he couldn’t take a car for a spin without a driver’s license? Lawmakers should know that kind of thing, no? <br /><br />Forget worrying about the goddamn bridges. I’m keeping my eye out for Old Bill behind the wheel. <br /><br />Give it up, Bill. Your license, that is. And now.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-86393008282440449822007-08-07T06:24:00.001-07:002007-08-07T06:24:37.534-07:00Thanks, Iggy <div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/CPMn6bay3WY' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/CPMn6bay3WY'/></object></p><p>I needed that. And You? Wake the fuck up, Vermont.<br /></p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-38765520748687185972007-08-03T09:38:00.000-07:002007-08-04T05:18:01.951-07:00Thanks to Mark Johnson, I'm BackOh hell, I fell off the goddamn merry-go-round again, didn’t I? And you greedy little readers certainly let me know about it, too. Whatever. Forget about the excuses this time. Let’s just say life interrupted art. Yeah, that’s it. <br /><br />Thanks to all who inquired about by whereabouts. And special thanks to the equal number of folks who shared their morbid dreams that the Snarky One had disappeared for good. Sorry, no such luck. I’ve tried to shed my snarky side for years, dear readers, but then the man I pay weekly to listen to me – some call him a therapist – announced more than a year ago that it would be best if I just worked this shit out in public. So, you see, I have no choice. Doctor’s orders. And so I blog. And you? What the hell’s your excuse for being here?<br /><br />Oh damn, I’m already digressing. Let’s get back to the mail. First up is the first-ever official Snarky Boy correction. Yep, just like in the New York Times, I’m about to declare that within all the bullshit buried within this electronic endeavor there contains an item in need of a correction. The irony, of course, is that to offer such a correction requires the gigantic leap of faith that the rest of the stuff printed here is beyond factual reproach. Gotta love it. I guess it’s kind of like declaring that Rudolph’s nose really isn’t red but leaving the whole Santa thing unquestioned. <br /><br />But when Mark Johnson whines, you gotta listen. And boy can he whine. I guess he didn’t get a long enough vacation at Shore Acres Inn, huh? Specifically, Mr. Johnson of WDEV fame took Mr. Snarky to task for running with two tips I got that his trip to China earlier this summer was partially subsidized by members of the Vermont Chamber of Commerce. Johnson cried foul. I did some checking with my now former sources and, sure enough, there was no specific funding of Johnson’s trip from anyone except Johnson and his boss, Ken Squier. <br /><br />So listen up, Mark: Snarky Boy was incorrect in publishing this accusation and the entire Snarky enterprise consisting of one lame bastard now publicly offers our – um, my -- sincere apologies for what – according to your emails – caused you much consternation. There. Whew. That was weird. But he insisted. <br /><br />Now let’s revisit Mark’s great China adventure. Sure, as proven above, Mark didn’t receive a dime for his trip, but he did get led around like a fish on a hook by the Chamber of Commerce folks while there. They were setting the agenda and making the arrangements for where Mark would be and what Mark would see – including his well-publicized run-ins with Governor Douglas, whereby Mark crooned about the importance of it all. For those wondering at home, this is what they refer to as “embedded journalism.” But, let me repeat, Mark paid for the airfare. <br /><br />Oh wait, I’m now getting an important bulletin over the Snarky News Wire. Hmm, it turns out that a certain Mark Johnson is now demanding that the creators of The Simpsons issue an apology to its fans for not declaring that the whole endeavor is rather cartoonish. You go, Mark. Justice for all!<br /><br />Oops, gotta run. Boss is lurking. Keep those emails coming, folks. As you know, you can reach me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com. <br /><br />Thanks for playing. Yes, playing.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-76330567925092702012007-07-11T16:30:00.000-07:002007-07-11T16:39:43.884-07:00Snarky Exclusive! The Super Secret Shumlin & Symington Strategy Sessions Caught on Tape!Here you go folks. The tapes everyone in the State House has been talking about -- the super-secret strategy sessions of Shumlin & Symington preparing for their great veto override adventures. Granted, it's a bit hard to tell which one is which but, given the techniques, it's clearly them. I'm guessing Shumlin's the one on his feet at the end. But you tell me what you think. You can see the entire video by <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=CcnfQ4mCB40">clicking here</a>. <br /><br />Stay tuned.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-79914489280020607342007-07-11T10:55:00.000-07:002007-07-11T10:57:16.329-07:00Douglas Whips the Weasels (again)No big surprise here: The Vermont Legislature – the one controlled by a so-called veto-proof majority of Democrats – failed to override Governor Jim Douglas veto of the anti-global warming bill today. In fact, it wasn’t even close. The Gaye Symington-led Dems in the House needed 98 votes to make the trek to Montpelier worth their time and the tax-payers money but only managed 86 votes. Ouch. And how much more proof do the Dems need that Gaye’s sleepy and passionless style of leadership is…well…sleepy and passionless? Good grief, enough already. <br /><br />Given my new office job, I wasn’t able to listen to much of Mark Johnson’s coverage this morning from the State House on WDEV. I did, however, hear a bit of his interview with the Guv. The best part was when Douglas accused the Dem leadership of using “weasel” talk in the weeks and days leading up to the special override session. Cool. Earth to Dems: Notice the passion – not to mention the consistency. Douglas didn’t, for example, issue a press release before a negotiating session declaring that his spine is turning to jelly and he might be willing to back-pedal on positions that he only moments before declared that he’d fight to the death over. <br /><br />And guess what? Douglas won. But we all lost. Damn it. And while the Dems and their oh-so-brain-dead followers will hoot and holler over what an obstructionist Douglas is, I’d suggest that they take a good long look in the mirror, too. Or, better yet, take a good long look at Shumlin and Symington, because the strategy they employed through this whole affair was nothing short of moronic, insulting and just plain bone-headed. But it certainly didn’t stop the <a href="http://greenmountaindaily.com/showDiary.do?diaryId=1376">Dem stooges</a> from falling for it – right over the fucking cliff. <br /><br />Douglas was right about one thing: The weasel thing. Bingo.<br /><br />And now can we officially call that session of the legislature what it was: One.Big. Fucking. Dud. Period.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-3327136359090089182007-07-11T06:01:00.000-07:002007-07-11T06:09:03.004-07:00Oh No, They're Back. State House Daycare is Open Again.Mmm, I love the smell of fried Democrats in the morning. Or even Republicans for that matter. I mean, what’s the difference anymore, right? Two spoiled kids without much vision beyond their noses. And passion? Forgetaboutit. But, as usual, the joke’s on us – the ones who don’t want to be insulted by joining a “party” when the host will never tell us where the keg is. <br /><br />Today’s the day the nest of ninnies that comprise the Vermont legislature venture back to Montpelier to – hmm – bicker. Yep. They love to bicker. And moan. And point fingers. Anything but accomplish much of anything that will inspire the populace or – better yet – give us some hope and relief for the future. <br /><br />If you can’t venture to the Montpelier today to witness the charade of democracy, just get yourself to the nearest hot and sweaty children’s day camp or daycare center. You won’t notice the difference. Oh sure, the size of the whiners will be different, but the rhetoric will be mostly the same, as in: “That’s My Ball!” “No, It’s My Ball!” Whatever. <br /><br />But, as usual, I’m betting that the not-so-mighty Dems will get their asses handed to them today. Mostly because that’s all they seem to be willing to do of late – whine and lose. Over and over and over. <br /><br />Oh yeah, and there’s that strategy thing that they can’t seem to get straight, either. You know, like when Senate Leader Shumlin sent his grassroots folks out to fight the good fight over taxing the Vermont Yankee to pay for the energy bill and then he pulled the rug out from under them by offering to remove the tax from the bill. And that pretty much sums up what the Dem leadership thinks about their grassroots fighters – send ‘em into the fray and forget about ‘em. I mean, come on, even Snarky Boy had a moment – just a moment – of compassion for the poor fools who responded to the Dem call for letters to the editor in support of the Yankee tax and then, once published, those same Dem leaders said “never mind” to the whole plan. Dangle, dangle.<br /><br />But then, faster than you can say “where’s the back bone?” the Dem leaders ran back to their Yankee tax plan after Governor Howdy Doody hiked up his pants and said “boo!” to them in that scary way that only an accountant from Middlebury can muster. Oh baby, feel the power. Not. But it doesn’t take much to blow over the Dem straw men. <br /><br />So that leaves us with today. What a mess. And, as usual, the only one looking strong is the only one who should be looking like a complete dork: Governor Douglas. I mean, he’s the Republican governor of Vermont denying a bill to fight global warming that a super-majority of Dems have pinned their entire legislative hopes upon. And he’s winning! Unbelievable. <br /><br />It’s not hard to figure out why Douglas and the Republicans are winning on this one, either. It’s called consistency. Douglas and his shiny team of young Republican guns have done little but slam the door on any and all talk of global warming from the gitgo. Stupid, yes. But consistent for sure. <br /><br />The Dems, on the other hand, have been led down the ever-twisting strategic road paved by Shumlin in the Senate and Symington in the House. No, I’m driving! No, no, I’m driving! Good luck with that. <br /><br />I know it’s too late for advice, but the Dems should certainly spend some time with Drew Westen’s book, “The Political Brain: The Role of Emotion in Deciding the Fate of the Nation.” In it, he nails the modern peril of the Dems: They have no passion. Duh. But, better yet, he gives them plenty of advice that can be boiled down to the most obvious: believe in something and fight for it. Again, duh. But, strangely enough, it’s the kind of advice the Dems obviously need. <br /><br />Okay, okay, so my prediction for the day inside the State House: The Dems lose. Yawn.<br /><br />Nothing like a veto-proof majority, huh? <br /><br />[P.S. Here’s some free advice to all legislators today: When Peter Freyne of 7 Daze asks you if you’ve seen Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth,” just say yes. It’ll shut him up. Because that’s all he ever asks on this issue.]Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-57669058703558874212007-07-10T12:22:00.000-07:002007-07-10T12:29:24.120-07:00The Republicans Are Having All the Fun, Part 3,568Sorry, but I can’t help venturing out of the Vermont political realm for just a moment to jump on the bandwagon of those commenting on <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/huff-wires/20070709/vitter-dc-madam/">the news</a> that Louisiana’s Republican Senator, David Vitter, has issued a statement admitting that he used the services of the now infamous “DC Madam.” Yowza. Oh David, you wild and crazy guy! Well, not exactly. Because now the same guy who was calling up the lady service for a hummer of the non-automotive variety is now weeping the Jimmy Swaggart-style tears and begging the world to forgive his “sinful” transgressions. Give me a fucking break. You wanted it. You called for it. You got it. You enjoyed it. Now shut up about all the remorse, you fool. <br /><br />You gotta hand it to these Republicans because they know how to have a good time and then – years later – weep like fucking morons so as to play the sympathy card. But, if Vitter was really feeling shitty about his brush with paid sex, why did he wait until the DC Madam was about to release her phone records with his number on them to come out crying? Oh yeah, I almost forgot, because he’s full of shit.<br /><br />Here, for your reading pleasure is the statement Vitter put out regarding his sexual adventures with the call girl: <br /><br /><blockquote>This was a very serious sin in my past for which I am, of course, completely responsible. Several years ago, I asked for and received forgiveness from God and my wife in confession and marriage counseling. Out of respect for my family, I will keep my discussion of the matter there _ with God and them. But I certainly offer my deep and sincere apologies to all I have disappointed and let down in any way.</blockquote><br /><br />I’m just curious, did Vitter get a receipt for that forgiveness he says he received from God? Because I’d like to see it. Mostly because I’ve never actually seen how that works. But, better yet, I’d like to see a transcript of that discussion he’s having about the encounter with God. I mean, did he offer even a hint of thanks for leading him to such a fine hummer for such a low price? Or if he simply played the remorse card to God, did the Almighty One ever interject to remind him that he witnessed the whole thing and certainly noticed the pleasure? I’m just curious.<br /><br />Why are the Republicans having all the fun? Vetoes. Blowjobs. Direct lines to God. Perhaps Leahy could start another investigation and get to the bottom of this….<br /><br />[Please, don't contact God about this blog. I've heard that he doesn't really care about it. Contact me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-62832560939066356542007-07-10T08:29:00.000-07:002007-07-10T08:33:38.695-07:00Sue Allen Gets Snarky!Cool. Sue Allen, the semi-new editor at the Times Argus, let her newspaper’s snarky side spill forth this morning in <a href="http://www.timesargus.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070710/OPINION01/707100317/1021/OPINION01">an editorial</a> that took both the Vermont Dems and the Repubs – particularly the giant ego machines known as Peter Shumlin and Jim Douglas -- to task for the drama surrounding tomorrow’s veto override session of the legislature. Oops, did I say “ego machines”? I meant to say whining children. But, then again, narcissism and the development of the ego are rooted in that precious zone of childhood development. I say put the bastards in a crib and let them work it out on their own. Like Sue Allen and the Times Argus, I’m tired of them forcing the entire state to witness their tantrums and – worse – force us to baby sit them through their nonsense. Or maybe no one but the paid politicians, paid lobbyists and paid journalists is even paying attention to this stuff. What a racket. <br /><br />Here's my favorite snarky bit from the TA editorial:<br /><br /><blockquote>Artificial crises between Douglas and the Legislature have become each party's stock in trade: Douglas because he can present himself as the voice of reason holding the Democratic (read out-of-control liberal) hordes at bay; the Legislature because, with Democrats in control of both the House and the Senate, it's handy to have a scapegoat to blame failures on, a role they're happy to see the state's highest-profile Republican assume. And the cries of Panic! Fire! Alarm! serve to make political agitation seem like an important function in the state. For paid political agitators, that's a good thing. For the rest of us, it's like living in a white noise generator.<br /><br />The simple truth is that most Vermonters wish that Tweedledee Douglas and Tweedledum Shumlin would go away and let us enjoy the summer without fretting over their self-created, self-fulfilling apocalypse.</blockquote><br /><br />Nice work.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-88297693947452803982007-07-08T16:02:00.000-07:002007-07-08T16:14:52.798-07:00New & Improved: Snarky Boy on Drugs!Oh fuck, you again. Yeah you. Or is it me? To be honest, I’ve lost track of who’s who. So let’s try this: I’ll be me and you be you. And I mean it this time. No more games. Or else.<br /><br />As for me, I’m on drugs. Yep. The Snarky One is all dosed up on pain medication. And before you start begging me for a pill or two for your own maladies, let me be clear: I ain’t sharing. Period. Because I need every last one of the precious capsules. <br /><br />You see, I started taking this mountain biking thing a bit too seriously over the July 4th holiday week. And the next thing I knew I was flying in the air and landing squarely on a large rock – ass first with my back perpendicular to the stone so as to squish my fucking spine like an accordion. Technically, I have what the fine docs are calling a “spinal contusion as a result of a traumatic compaction.” Fuck yeah. And you should have heard me holler. <br /><br />This happened on the Fourth of July. So my day of celebrating turned into a day at the hospital, a visit to a chiropractor and a whole hell of a lot of just plain whining about the pain. Okay, it’s time I let you in on a little secret: When it comes to bodily pain, I am one big pussy. As big as they come, in fact. Hell, I didn’t even want to be left alone while the lovely nurse made her way for the lead wall in the x-ray room. Just give me the meds and set me free, damn it. <br /><br />But the worst of the worst was the news on the red sticker placed prominently on the med container: “Do Not Consume Alcohol With This Medication.” Say what? And while I haven’t broken the rule yet, I do have a pretty good feeling that they’d go marvelously together. We’ll see.<br /><br />I really didn’t mind missing the whole Fourth of July evening thing. Is it me, or does it just seem like an excuse for fat, gluttonous, and loud Americans to be fat, gluttonous, and loud Americans? Enough already. And, please, put your fucking shirt back on because you’re making me sick. And that goes for your husband, too.<br /><br />Besides, being a Montpelier resident – yes, with my own apartment again (my, oh my, a lot has happened, huh?) – I got to celebrate on July 3rd. And the best part of the day was venturing out to see J.D. Ryan of <a href="http://www.fivebeforechaos.com/">Five Before Chaos</a> fame play his bass at Langdon Street Café. The boy’s got talent – lots of it. And the fellas playing with him in the band called Lingo Mungo ain’t so bad, either. Nice groove. Fine crowd. And most everyone left me alone. Now I’m officially granting J.D. two Snarky Immunity Cards for having talent. It works like this: the next two times that I get the urge to verbally slap J.D. upside of the head for doing something dopey like posting at the dreadful Green Mountain Daily site, I will hold my tongue. But I’ll only do it twice. Use them wisely, my friend.<br /><br />Speaking of the Vermont blogosphere, I tried like hell (again) to find any shred of entertainment value in the political blogs while I was double dosing on meds and found little but Freyne telling us about <a href="http://7d.blogs.com/freyneland/2007/07/airing-the-dirt.html">his laundry</a> and his recycling days (again), Odumb at GMD donning his Dem Party pom-poms in one display after another of his usual <a href="http://www.greenmountaindaily.com/showDiary.do?diaryId=1387">ass-scratching attempts at logic</a>, and the same old Baruth at Vermont Daily Briefing continuously vaulting himself high into the narcissistic air of <a href="http://vermontdailybriefing.com/?p=674">Planet Love Thyself</a>. Good fucking grief, is this all Vermont’s got to offer? <br /><br />Actually, I wasn’t quite fair to Freyne. Because other than his increasingly awkward (and redundant) references to his weekly laundry, recycling and column deadline routines, he’s also very faithfully stalking our U.S. Senators, Pat Leahy and Bernie Sanders. I really think he’s got a crush on both of them. I mean, come on, every piece he writes about them has them all but walking on water. And all those photos, too! Sometimes I think Leahy and Sanders are going to put a restraining order on Freyne for all the stalking he does of them. One thing’s for sure, they don’t need to hire him because he’s already working for them – shamelessly.<br /><br />Oh hell, the meds are wearing off and I’ve still got a pile of notes and story ideas to get through. So let’s rip through them in bullet form:<br /><br /> * Montpelier’s own David Dobbs has a <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/08/magazine/08sociability-t.html">feature story</a> in today’s New York Times Sunday Magazine about a mental health malady known as “Williams Syndrome.” According to Dobbs, it’s a “genetic accident that causes cognitive deficits and a surplus of unguarded affability.” Well, I guess no one will accuse me of having that disease. Read the article, though, it’s very interesting.<br /><br /> * Vermont Public Television’s sleepy little news show, Vermont This Week, featured some former Vermont journalists who quit the news biz to become flaks for businesses and/or politicians. The panel was comprised of Diane Derby, Darren Allen and Steve Larose. While nothing real earth shattering – or even moderately interesting – came from the show, it was fun to witness the defensive Darren Allen try to stammer around for a coherent thought (ah, just like his columns!). He also got a bit testy at the get go when the host Stewart Ledbetter asked him why he chose to leave journalism and go to the “dark side.” “Well,” snapped Allen, “I’d hardly call working for the people of Vermont going to the dark side.” He’s clearly not getting any smarter in his new job. Because, as the rest of us clearly know, he doesn’t work for the people of Vermont, he works for the Douglas Administration. The people of Vermont would have never hired him. I also have to say that it was odd to see Diane Derby and Darren Allen be lumped together on equal footing as “former Vermont journalists.” Let’s face it, Derby’s got more talent in her pinky finger than Allen has in his entire body. And she didn’t seem to have too much love for Allen during the show, either, barely looking at him while he droned on about whatever the hell he was droning on about – oh yeah, himself (of course).<br /><br /> * Finally, if you’re still under the dopey liberal spell that those “carbon offsets” are anything but complete and total bullshit, check out Tom Friedman’s column in today’s New York Times. Here are the money quotes: <br /><br /><blockquote>If people really want to generate money to plant trees or finance green power, why not have them offset their real sins, not just their carbon excesses? We started to play with his idea: Imagine if you could offset the whole Ten Commandments.<br /><br />No, really, think about it. Imagine if there were a Web site — I’d call it GreenSinai.com — where every time you thought you had violated one of the Ten Commandments, or you wanted to violate one of them but did not want to feel guilty about it, you could buy carbon credits to offset your sins…<br /><br />…Here’s how it would work: One day, you’re out in the backyard mowing the lawn and suddenly you covet your neighbor’s wife. Hey, it happens — that’s why “thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife” is one of the Ten Commandments. No problem. You just go to GreenSinai.com and buy 100 trees in the Amazon or fund a project to capture methane from cow dung in India — and, presto, you’re free and clear.<br /><br />Obviously there would be a sliding scale. Taking God’s name in vain or erecting an idol might cost you only a few solar water heaters for a Chinese village, whereas bearing false witness or stealing would set you back a pilot sugar ethanol plant in Louisiana.<br /><br />As for adultery, well, I think that’s where the big money could be made. My guess is that we could achieve a carbon-neutral world by 2020 if we just set up a system for people to offset their adultery by reversing deforestation of tropical rain forests or funding mega wind and solar power systems in China and India.</blockquote><br /><br />You people just got a whole hell of a lot more than you deserve. And I hope you realize that. Now, please, leave me alone, I’ve got meds to take and drug-induced dreams to enjoy. In other words, thanks for playing.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-52514479513802502732007-06-27T11:08:00.000-07:002007-06-27T11:09:08.248-07:00Ch...Ch...Ch...China?Excuse me, but could someone please tell me what the hell I’m missing when it comes to all this talk about China in Vermont lately? Suddenly, out of nowhere it seems, the business relations between China and Vermont seem to be about the most important thing facing this state. Oh well, I guess that’s what happens when Governor Howdy Doody Douglas decides to gather his throng of faithful journalists, wave his magic wand in front of them, hike his pants up midway to his chest and then repeat these lines until they have no choice but to believe it: “China is important now. Watch me travel to China. Watch me be important in China.”<br /><br />And the media obliged – again. Leading the way was the embedded Mark Johnson of WDEV fame, who tagged along on the Guv’s China trip thanks to the largesse of the Republican business interests who footed the bill. And then Johnson seemed to don the rosy glasses the Douglas team strapped onto him and issue one rather breathless report after another about the importance of the trip.<br /><br />But, again, I’m not getting it. And I’m not buying it either, especially when Douglas’ main theme while over there was all about “exporting Vermont’s environmental ethic.” Oh sure, you mean that ethic that seems to be all about his veto of the global warming legislation? Who’s kidding whom here, Guv? <br /><br />Frankly, this whole China hoopla just feels like one big political charade. Douglas doesn’t have a clue about how to make policy sense out of his “affordability” mantra so the more dopey trips like this with the fawning media pretending that it matters the better. See, Douglas will tell us, I’m on the worldwide cutting edge of…of…oh yeah…affordability. Yeah, that’s it. And he’s right too, especially since the trip didn’t cost him a penny. You go, Guv.<br /><br />Of course, a trip to China will also make Douglas feel a whole lot better about Vermont’s standard of living, too. I mean, come on, what are all us Vermont workers complaining about? We are, after all, making a hell of a lot more than the Chinese. Ah, affordability issues conquered. Congrats, Guv.<br /><br />Finally, would it have been too much to ask for Johnson or any other members of the media who regurgitated the Douglas line on China to bring in a few human rights or social justice experts to challenge the rather rosy scenario being painted by the business hawks? Or are we just going to pretend that the exploitation and injustice doesn’t exist just so a few of Douglas’ favorite little business pals can reap millions? Oh yeah, baby, Vermont is sooooo different. Feel the ethic…<br /><br />I guess I’m just wondering where Mark Johnson is off to next? First it was Chicago. Then it was China. Hmm, it sure looks like he’s got some kind of alphabet thing going on here. Columbia? Costa Rica? Cuba with Brian Dubie? <br /><br />Nah, I’m betting his next trip is to Shore Acres Inn – gratis once again. Smart guy, for sure.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-6289173482766584782007-06-26T16:54:00.000-07:002007-06-26T16:57:09.683-07:00The Cowardly Lion Dems Strike (Out) Again<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQCFmS0VMPcey0Wln9iy1x6VzdJ14o0GzFW2j2D2Mv-XJV5n_hCnmvORV9zvBR9RQEZAmaoWo1W9mW28O-DsjZxbvAz4P8swXcAB7NSudnWpOMcsQ2EFmeD6uQ8ISZfCoxrqW2A/s1600-h/cowardlylion.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQCFmS0VMPcey0Wln9iy1x6VzdJ14o0GzFW2j2D2Mv-XJV5n_hCnmvORV9zvBR9RQEZAmaoWo1W9mW28O-DsjZxbvAz4P8swXcAB7NSudnWpOMcsQ2EFmeD6uQ8ISZfCoxrqW2A/s320/cowardlylion.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080526104107104770" /></a> You now, sometimes you just have to give a big “thank you” to the so-called leaders of the Democratic Party. Because, as a blogger in a haze of newness – job, home and all – there’s nothing like the crisp wake-up slap of a Dem leader doing something as stupid as only Dem leaders can do. Ah, thank you Dem leaders – you’re truly the blogger gift that keeps giving. <br /><br />Of course, my snarky readers will already know what I’m hinting at here: The Dem leaders of the Vermont legislature, Senator Peter “Look at Me” Shumlin and House Speaker Gaye “Don’t Notice Me” Symington, announced today that they’d like everyone who believed their tough-talking rhetoric about taxing the Vermont Yankee nuclear power plant to fund future renewable energy efforts to…well…forgetaboutit. Yep. They issued yet another in a long line of shameless about-faces, thus pulling the rug out from under their increasingly hapless (and dwindling) followers. <br /><br />Oh boy, ain’t this “veto-proof” Dem majority great! Just feel the power. Not. <br /><br />Frankly, it’s better to be a little kitten or puppy than a Dem follower these days. I mean, at least the kitties and the puppies have the PETA folks to cry foul when they’re tortured or otherwise mistreated. The Dem followers, on the other hand, continue to get one policy stick after another in the eye and no one seems to give two shits. Hell, it’s actually entertaining at this point. Until, that is, you realize they’re fucking up issues like the war and global warming.<br /><br />Once again, the guy coming out smelling like a Bush-supporting rose is Governor Jim Douglas. Let’s face it, Douglas has got this game of scaring the wits out of the Dems down pat. All he does is pull his pants up a bit higher, adjust his aw-shucks grin, and say something rather incoherent about “affordability” and – viola! – the Dems cower like sheep in the presence of a wily fox. <br /><br />What’s really hysterical about this latest Dem cave-in to Douglas’ mere whisper of “boo” is that he’s been in fucking China of late. Usually, when the cat’s away, the mice play. Not with the Dems, though. Surprise, surprise. In this case, the Douglas-cat was away and the little Dem mice busily worked on perfecting their ever-growing legislative coffin. And so it goes, yet another Dem dream lowered into the ground. <br /><br />And please, dear readers, don’t be fooled by the hype that will be spinning furiously out of the Dem headquarters in the next several days. This is NOT an attempt to put the pressure on Douglas, as they’re already saying. This is NOT some kind of sly strategy to force the governor to do something he doesn’t really want to do. Nope. Instead, it is one thing and only one thing: One big and final cave-in by the Dems in what should be remembered as a most pathetic legislative session. They had the power and they did little but dither, panic, pander and piss it away. Shame on them (again).<br /><br />Anyone out there ready to launch the first chapter of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Dems? Not me. I’m enjoying the show, just like a snarky boy should.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-52398372536131511562007-06-25T15:16:00.000-07:002007-06-25T15:19:35.144-07:00Head Up My Ass<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUJxu7BMWK7-WpTLxWOd3p55DHivCBRr1EUxv_dHe5RLOGwDjy1xHyX4EX99Ob2h7RBdq3JBibQcZywXAfc4vENr7Hq5ED2wnBBT3oIlZwAC_WqvYXhH8jGto3PQ-zXIEFFRG2A/s1600-h/headupyourass.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUJxu7BMWK7-WpTLxWOd3p55DHivCBRr1EUxv_dHe5RLOGwDjy1xHyX4EX99Ob2h7RBdq3JBibQcZywXAfc4vENr7Hq5ED2wnBBT3oIlZwAC_WqvYXhH8jGto3PQ-zXIEFFRG2A/s400/headupyourass.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080130052737928818" /></a><br />Holy shit. Who knew? Not me. <br /><br />Of course, you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Nope. And, frankly, my week was so goddamn boring that I’m not even sure I’m going to even venture into the new adventures that dominate the new and not-so-improved life of Snarky Boy. <br /><br />Let’s just say that I’m in an office now. And the office is co-owned by my brother-in-law. And that same brother-in-law is well aware of my Snarky blog (hello, Bro!). In other words, all I really have to say here now about the new job is that it is great, he is great, and everyone there is just fucking great. Yeah right. <br /><br />Imagine Snarky in his own little cubbyhole. Or, better yet, imagine Snarky in a meeting with a bunch of yuppies – oops, make that, wonderful people – making decisions that basically avoid what the decisions are really about: Getting filthy fucking rich at the expense of others who are already filthy fucking rich. Of course, as a guy who’s spent much of his adult life on a ladder and in a bar, having a savings account seems filthy rich to me – not matter what’s in it. <br /><br />But I’m in no position to let you in on any more of it right now. Let’s just say that I haven’t made myself indispensable quite yet. In fact, I think I’m already skating on thin ice. Imagine that. But, thanks to my oh-so-sweet Bro, I think I’m being given a few more wrong turns than the average “new hire.” <br /><br />I will say this: These bastards sure know how to play after work. But instead of heading to Charlie O’s, they put on hundreds of dollars worth of biking clothing and then take frantic rides on bikes that cost more than I used to charge for painting an entire house. Yeah, you’ve seen these fellas on all the roads in and around Montpelier. You can’t miss them – they look like billboards on bicycles, with their shirts, pants and bikes full of logos and the like. Aside from the dopey gear, I really can’t blame these fellas for wanting to go for a screaming bike ride after a day of being totally fucking cooped up in an office and kissing more ass than a group of Vermont reporters kisses at a political press conference. I think the more they sweat the more they forget about the unspeakable boredom of their days. <br /><br />Oops, but that’s not to say that I’m bored. No way (hey, Bro!). I love it (wink).<br /><br />The best part of my week was actually getting on a borrowed bike and riding with these clowns. Yep, on Tuesday night Snarky Boy mounted…ahem…a mountain bike and headed to Morse Farm to join the throngs of testosterone-filled boys (and a couple girls) to race. Yeah race. As in, three goddamn times around a 3-mile-plus loop through the woods. <br /><br />They were all fueled with all kinds of special little (high-priced) concoctions they carry in little plastic flasks. Yours truly was fueled on the pent-up energy from being a newly hired office boy and a rather primitive yearning to force at least one of these “very nice” fellas who told me to do stupid shit all day to taste the mud splattered from my back wheel. <br /><br />Let me tell you, I missed Charlie O’s. Bad. Real bad. And if it weren’t for my real secret weapon – an iPod with the new White Stripes on continuous play – I would have never made it to the end in front of the one person I really wanted to end in front of. And then I went to Charlie O’s. Whew. There’s nothing like home. But my legs were fucking sore and I couldn’t let the little yups know it. <br /><br />So I guess this is all just a lame attempt at an apology and an explanation for my wayward ways this week. Again, I appreciate the emails that keep coming in. I will, as always, respond to them as soon as I can. <br /><br />But I will say this: It sure seems like I’m not alone in my absolute hatred of all things mowing. Perhaps it’s time for a little coalition? My favorite anti-mowing email came from an ever-so-gleeful fella who told me to check out one of those dopey lawns in what we always called the “Cody-ville” section of Elm Street, just north of Montpelier. Ha! It turns out the old bastard got a little overly gleeful with his spring fling with lawn toxins and fried the shit out of one long trip around the outer edge of his lawn. Go check it out for yourselves. It’s on the right as you head out of town. And, while you’re looking at it, imagine how much goddamn therapy the guy needs to get over it. I mean, that lawn is his fucking life. <br /><br />Speaking of Cody-ville, one of the little brat children who were raised in that section of town, Richard Cody, is now the big-wig in the U.S. Army, assistant chief of staff, to be precise. And it turns out that Montpelier’s own high-powered military man played a key role in getting the general who investigated Abu Ghraib shit-canned. Yep. <a href="http://select.nytimes.com/search/restricted/article?res=F70D15FF395B0C748DDDAF0894DF404482">You can read all about it here</a>, including the not-so-subtle mention of Montpelier’s own General Cody. <br /><br />Hmm, I wonder why the local media won’t delve into this? Oh yeah, I almost forgot, they’re too busy stuffing their noses up the asses of those in power. Don’t believe me? Just pick up a paper or turn on the radio. Here, for example, is the headline from last week’s Time Argus regarding Governor Douglas: “Study: Douglas Wields Real Power.” The article was penned by Louis Porter, one of the few remaining warm bodies in the news gathering business in the Capital City. Great work, Louis. Now why don’t you write something that will confirm the fact that Leahy, Sanders and Welch are allowed to vote in Congress. You dope. <br /><br />Let me tell you, you media and political types are lucky the Snarkmaster has been distracted by this new job of mine. But the distraction’s almost over. I’m learning the ropes, gaining some freedom, and seeing the light at the end of that hideous tunnel of learning. You’ve been warned. Because it sure seems like this state needs someone – anyone! – to light the stinkbomb of truth from time to time. <br /><br />Hang tight. And keep the comments coming to me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.comSnarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-18974917153929421002007-06-15T12:19:00.000-07:002007-06-15T12:20:27.201-07:00TGIF Blogging -- And Not A Moment Too SoonJob procured. Future secured – at least the next month of it. And life carries forward. Whatever. I knew if I got really fucking pathetic here someone would step forward to end the whining and put the meandering snarky one back to work. So, without further hesitation or trepidation, let me say this to all those who sent me tips on how to continue to put one foot another on the sometimes-bizarre trail of life: Thanks. <br /><br />The best advice I got was this: Just keep doing, no matter what the “doing” is. Yep. I read that book, too: Constructive Living, that is. Fine advice for the times when you find yourself spending too much time doing little but telling the world how little you’re doing. Yawn.<br /><br />And since I’m not in the mood to write about my next professional adventure that begins on Monday, let’s play the game of “Where in the hell are they now?” The games goes like this: I name someone and you try to quickly tell me – or, rather, anyone who can hear you talking to the computer screen – where they are and what they’ve done for you lately.<br /><br />So, here we go. Ready? Good. Here’s the first name: Peter Welch. <br /><br />Holy shit. Did Welch just fall off the face of the planet or what? I’m betting his inner-advisor has advised him to just lay low for a while because the public is really, really sick of him saying the same old shit and doing next to nothing to back up his droning verbiage. <br /><br />I mean, come on, admit that you feel a bit more at ease with your political life now that you don’t hear Welch’s whining little voice saying: “What we’re doing in Iraq is refereeing a civil war.” He loves that line. But, unfortunately, when it came to doing something about ending the war now, Welch’s high-pitched nothingness just got more high-pitched and more full of nothingness as Nancy Pelosi squeezed a bit harder and forced him to get in line or suffer the committee assignment consequences. And so it went. <br /><br />And Peter Welch isn’t the only one hiding right now. It appears the whole Democratic Party is in hiding, unfortunately following the internal advice that it’s now best to let the House of Politics just keep burning until the 2008 elections. Solve the problems? Fuck it, they’re telling us, we’re focusing on getting even more power in 2008. For what? Well, of course, to be in a great position to build even more power in 2010. And then? Oh boy, imagine what we could do in 2012 with all that power we garnered in 2010? And so they go, right over the political cliff while those of us with the boot of injustice suffocating us just keep gasping for some semblance of sense. Good luck with that.<br /><br />Howard Dean let the cat out of the bag earlier this month during his obnoxiously evasive response to President Bush’s weekly radio address. Instead of putting forward an exciting plan to address the issues the people of this nation so obviously want addressed – you know, things like that not-so-little war, the environment, energy policy, jobs, etc. – Dean counseled those clamoring for action to just focus on the 2008 presidential race, without a word about a true and inspired Democratic agenda from now until then. <br /><br />Did I just put the words “inspired” and “Democratic agenda” together? Sorry about that, it must be the delusional fog one encounters while preparing for a new job. You know the feeling, you pretend you were actually who you were for the interview and then paint everything in that dreamy rose colored hue that says: false, false and false. Whatever.<br /><br />And while we’re talking about Democrats and the games they play, how about the news that Gaye & (the other) Peter’s big veto override adventure may now last all….summer….long. Yep. Instead of coming back in mid-July to get their asses handed to them, they’ve now apparently decided to keep everything in limbo until September. Hey, what the hell, it’s only the planet burning up, right? Take your time, you dopes. Besides, it’s not as if you’ve got a fallback plan. Or an agenda. Or passion. <br /><br />Burn baby, burn – the planet, that is.<br /><br />It’s Friday, damn it. I need a drink. I’ll be seeing you in all the familiar places tonight.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-23010796945240013832007-06-15T07:58:00.001-07:002007-06-15T07:58:07.678-07:00Vic Chesnutt - Robot<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/pIZ_MQAQ8PE' name='movie'></param><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/pIZ_MQAQ8PE'></embed></object></p><p>I like when he finally fixes his hat -- sort of. Chesnutt is a genius. I wanted to find him performing "I'll See You Around," but couldn't find it. Look it up at your favorite Web music outlet. Consider it my gift to you. Yet another one. You cheap bastards.</p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-53245248306065187452007-06-13T11:36:00.000-07:002007-06-13T11:39:38.881-07:00Tick-Tock, Tick-TockWell, the bad news is that the phone is still not ringing. The good news is that my frantic mind has decided that a little more blogging might help. <br /><br />I thought I was going to take some time to listen to Anthony Pollina’s “Equal Time” radio show on WDEV but I just got really fucking sleepy after only three minutes of hearing him somnambulantly explain the current milk pricing woes of dairy farmers. Holy shit, he’s boring. I think all that dairy consumption is only making him slower, too. Imagine how bad he’s going to get when he’s wolfing down all those “natural creemies” he’s starting to market. Which reminds me, what in the hell is a “natural creemie”? I mean, Pollina’s already admitted the diary for the creemies isn’t organic. Worse, Pollina’s creemies are “single-shot” creemies that come “individually-packed” in plastic. How’s that for “natural”? Personally, I think the only way you’re going to get a natural creemie is to put a lactating organic cow on ice and start sucking. Of course, there’s a very good chance the PETA crowd will object but, what the fuck, they bitch about everything.<br /><br />Wow. Now THAT was a tangent. Sorry about that. But, while we’re on tangent highway, let’s keep looking around. <br /><br />I’ve decided that I’m going to immediately amend my living will as soon as I figure out how to create a living will in the first place. The amendment is going to read like this: To anyone who knows or comes into contact with me and sees that I own more than one lawn mowing machine and/or use that machine more than once every ten days, you hereby have my permission to take me out of my misery by immediately killing me. <br /><br />I mean, come on, you’ve seen those old fuckers who are seemingly living for one thing only: mowing the goddamn lawn. And mowing. And mowing. And trimming. And edging. And mowing. And blowing. And fertilizing. And mowing. And de-thatching. And mowing. <br /><br />The house I’m currently calling home – my sister’s – is surrounded by old maniac mowers. While technically she still lives in town, she’s just outside of town enough for the people to adequately pretend they live in the country. In other words, they’ve all got a few acres and, for some fucked up reason, they’ve not only turned the entire acreage into lawn but they’ve decided the lawn should be cut every…single…day so that it looks like the felt on a pool table rather than anything close to natural. Uh-oh, there’s that word again.<br /><br />I’m not kidding when I tell you that her most immediate neighbor has been on, pushed or carried about six different grass-killing devices in the week that I’ve been here. Worse, other than when it’s raining, he’s at it EVERY DAY. In other words, there is no peace here because this whacked out old bastard is in one constant Sisyphean battle with the grass. And what’s really pissing me off is that I’ve become obsessed with watching him do little more than mow his way through life, meaning that, in the scheme of things, I’m a bigger loser for watching him mow than he is for mowing. And that just sucks. I mean, I’ve been watching him so much that I can see he’s going over the same places two and three times. And I just don’t want to be worrying about that kind of thing right now.<br /><br />I’ve never really had much to mow. But, whenever I do mow, I hate it. In fact, this is usually what goes through my mind while I’m mowing: “This is stupid.” Let’s face it, it’s loud, it’s smelly, and it’s all about killing nature and looking like a dog chasing its tail around in circles. Worse, it’s a losing battle because the grass always wins. <br /><br />But these old fuckers seem to get one hell of a kick out of going around and around as loudly and as often as they can. I guess they all retired from some rote job that they gave 30-plus of their lives to and now mowing just seems like a natural extension to the nothingness of it all. And their wives certainly don’t seem to object – they enjoyed all those years of having them out of the house, damn it. So go mow, you fool! And mow some more! And more! How sad.<br /><br />So, please, do NOT let me enter this stage of my life. You have my full permission to shoot me if some latent mowing gene starts to kick in during my lifetime. <br /><br />Fuck, I wish the phone would ring. I’ve got way too much time on my hands. Please, someone help me.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-42911450424780380292007-06-13T08:50:00.001-07:002007-06-13T08:50:19.102-07:00LCD Soundsystem - Movement<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/o6MIChyCBAU' name='movie'></param><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/o6MIChyCBAU'></embed></object></p><p>For your listening pleasure -- and turn it up, for crying out loud. Or, better yet, take a stroll through town with it blaring through your earbuds. I did. </p></div>Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-41723122988184346862007-06-13T08:20:00.000-07:002007-06-13T08:23:25.999-07:00Waiting for the Phone to Ring BloggingWell, here I sit. Waiting for the phone to ring on two job leads and one apartment lead. So I might as leap into some random blogging to pretend that I’m getting something done. Oh yeah, feel the accomplishment, baby.<br /><br />In last night’s post I made a quip about the new surly Montpelier cops being much different than they were during my juvenile delinquent days. And this morning I wake up to this headline from the Times Argus: <a href="http://www.timesargus.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070613/NEWS01/706130375/1032">“Shocking Plan: Montpelier Police Want Tasers.”</a> Yikes. I told you they were a new surly bunch. Now, what in the hell do the Montpelier police need tasers for? Those kids on skateboards hanging at the City Center? This is just ridiculous. <br /><br />But we really know what this is all about: Munitions envy. Yep. The Montpelier cops have heard that other departments have the tasers – big tasers! – and now they want one in their pants, too. <br /><br />The City Council will be addressing the issue tonight at 7:40 if anyone else with a modicum of sense would like to stand up against random electric shock therapy dispensed by the police at will. <br /><br />And if you’re lacking that modicum of sense, take note of Amnesty International’s call for a moratorium on the use of the Tasers. Here’s what AI’s Josh Rubenstein told the TA: “Too often it simply becomes used like it’s a toy and it’s a serious weapon.”<br /><br />If the Montpelier police want something bigger in their pants, opt for the penis enlargements. I hear the Hardwick cops are all doing it…<br /><br />Speaking of the Times Argus, I was shocked – I mean shocked! – to wake up this morning and not see a single word about Jackson Browne or Barre’s LACE. Certainly they could have come up with a follow-up to the four other follow-ups to the hoopla, no? You know, something like: Zevon family still tired and happy. Oh yeah, they already did that – twice. <br /><br />Oh sure, it’s great to see what they’re doing in Barre. But being the snarky bastard that I am, I was waiting to read or hear one tiny mention of the fact that the hero of the event – Browne – was a girlfriend beater. Yeah, you remember that sordid little beating episode he had with his lover at the time, Darryl Hannah, don’t you? But that was all yesterday’s news. Today – well, last week -- the get-tough-on-crime Mayor of Barre, Little Thommy Lauzon, is power-washing the Opera House to welcome the man who whacked the hottie. Go figure. <br /><br />That should be enough snark to hold you over for a while. And, by the way, thanks for all the emails. I’ll respond to them as soon as I can. In the meantime, keep ‘em coming at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.comSnarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32243125.post-56318664161396023072007-06-12T18:42:00.000-07:002007-06-12T18:48:31.001-07:00Playing Hooky with the FamilyWhat a day. A dream, actually. Instead of pounding the pavement and tending to life’s little necessities – jobs and such – I got to play Mr. Uncle with my nine-year old niece all day. And while, in theory, I was playing the “adult” figure, it’s pretty clear my emotional IQ is a good several dozen or so points below hers. Surprise, surprise.<br /><br />The idea for this rather random day was hatched at bedtime in my sister’s home last night. As you’ll recall, it’s the same place I’m calling home while I’m still putting the pieces of my life back together after my random and haphazard trip to the coast last month. I know, I know, I promised to fill you in on the details but, frankly, it’s all still a little bit raw to delve into. Give me time. It’ll come.<br /><br />At bedtime last night, my niece was lamenting the thought of another day of school on a beautiful June day. And I didn’t help matters by proclaiming that when I was her age we never went to school in June – or August, for that matter. Or at least I don’t think we did. But when I told her about the camp on Curtis Pond that I worked at yesterday and how I was planning to sneak back up there for some solitude and a swim before the owners arrive in the evening, the little lobbyist in her kicked in. <br /><br />“Can I go with you?” began the first rather innocent lob in what would eventually snowball into a campaign that would put the Kimball, Sherman & Ellis clan to shame. I swear, if any of us really want something done in the legislature, all we have to do is hire about a dozen nine-year olds, put an idea in their heads – you know, something like: shut down the Vermont Yankee – and then just let them run free in the State House until they get what they want. And, trust me, they’ll get what they want. <br /><br />I was hip to her joining me from the get-go. And her father didn’t seem to be putting up much of roadblock, either. But, then again, being the distracted business-guy-dad, he pretty much rolls with anything that allows him time to focus on making even more money. The biggest obstacle was the Mommy/Sister. And we had one big thing in our favor: Wine. Oh yeah, Sis had a couple glasses of wine after dinner – probably to deal with my lovely presence. Lucky for us, the flip of her mood coin during this particular encounter with wine landed on the carefree side. Whew. <br /><br />And so it was approved: Uncle Snarky and the darling little one would join forces to become – for “one day only,” according to Sis – Team Trouble. Cool. <br /><br />We biked. Swam. Pretended to be the King and Princess of our Camp Trouble. And talked. And talked. And talked. She especially loves the stories about the trouble her mother and I got into as kids in the same town she’s now growing up in. <br /><br />Her all-time favorite is the time we were coming home from a high school party and decided to steal one of those orange blinking lights that’s attached to the saw-horse-like contraptions. You know, the things they place near holes in the road. Well, the problem with putting one of those in the backseat of your car and riding through town with it at 1:00 am is that the orange blinking light really gives you away. And while we were nearly pissing our pants from the fun of it all, the cop who pulled us over didn’t find it so funny. But, Montpelier being what Montpelier was then – before the really surly cops who are apparently pretending they’re in a bigger city took over – we got little more than a half-stern lecture, a trip back to where we got it, and an escort home. <br /><br />Like I said, it was a great day. And she’s a great kid – with some good snarky potential. But the best part was that I kept my head out of the news, thus unencumbered by the ninniness of the day. How refreshing. You don’t even need to read the news anymore to know exactly what’s happing in the political world. It’s the same thing every day: The Dems bark, the Republicans bite back, and the rest of us get the fucking bill for the entire charade. Ho-hum.<br /><br />Perhaps the biggest lesson of the day for me was this: Nine-year olds have a hell of a lot of energy. I’m wiped.<br /><br />We’ll talk some more tomorrow. Thanks for playing.Snarky Boyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623960322435199054noreply@blogger.com