More thoughts on Gilberton

                       I plan to be there in Gilberton for the unveiling of the new welcome sign.

             Gilberton needed a welcome sign now that it has gained so much publicity.

 Without a sign people may miss it.  If one is driving by and happens to sneeze, the tiny borough of Gilberton may be passed by without one even knowing.  It would be unfortunate for tourists to miss a town in which there is actually nothing to do there every minute of the day. 

 It is so small that it has often been mistaken for Munchkin Land.  By the way, Munchkin Land had the newest float in Shenandoah's recent Heritage Day Parade. Nearly everyone thought it represented Gilberton and wanted the float disqualified until it was verified that it was indeed Munchkin Land. All the proper paper work was in order.

MUNCHKIN LAND OR GILBERTON?

With all the increased attention and gun fanatics flocking to the community, I think some urban development could be in order. Perhaps new brick sidewalks. Everyone is doing brick sidewalk fundraisers now a days.  Gilberton could have a brick walkway to honor freedom of speech.

With Schuylkill County and Pottsville School District having personalized bricks sold as fundraisers, Gilberton should also get into the action.  But instead of selling bricks honoring deceased persons, Gilberton could sell bricks with vulgar or crude remarks on them.  That is what our forefathers, foremothers and forecousins had in mind when the first amendment was written. This would set these bricks apart from the others.  I think the borough is sitting on a gold mine. Excuse me.... I think the borough is sitting on an F#)king gold mine!  If one is interested in memorializing a deceased loved one, that could easily be combined with some vulgarity or crassness. Tell the world the truth about your grandpa or grandma..."In memory of Grandpappy Trout, a real Horse's Ass. R.I.P."

Isn't honesty the best policy, even in brick engraving?

I have my brick picked out all ready. I don't want to memorialize anyone. No siree. I want the world to know how I feel. Here it is. Wouldn't it be great for the sidewalks to be adorned with these bricks? I am sure that it would attract the Nintendo crowd. Mammy told me that I should change the brick wording to

"Eat Sh*t and die!"

I think she is right, she usually is. I gotta go now as I want to watch the Video Music Award Show with Miley Cyrus.

 

 

I too support the !@%$#% Bill of Rights

I cannot believe that the Gilberton’s Chief of Police has a youtube video that has gone viral in a few days, being watched by hundreds of thousands, while my blog, after years, is stuck in the mid-thirty thousand hit range.  

This makes me very depressed.

 My shrink told me to cheer up and forget about it. He told me that people now a days are more interested in the visual and that my blog requires reading. People just aren’t into reading like they used to be.

My shrink told me that maybe I should spice up my blog with some profanity and violence. He said that maybe would get more hits if I did this. If I did it right I could even get elected to a school board.

 You know, he’s probably right.

I watched the Chief’s video. It was well-directed. A little light on plot but the video should appeal to the Nintendo crowd.  It was also well acted, a combination of early Brando, Lenny Bruce and Don Knotts.  Two thumbs up.

 I too believe in the 2^nd Amendment (except for that stupid first part about having a well-regulated militia, that was probably snuck into the Amendment by Ben Franklin when no one was looking. I never trusted that guy).

 I am the staunchest 2nd Amendment proponent around. I am against background checks, frontground checks, sideview checks, wheat checks or any other kind of checks. The 2^nd Amendment says nothing about checks. 
 My interpretation of the 2^nd Amendment is that any person should be able to own any type of firearm that the person can pick up with one hand. It is that simple. I call it the one-hand rule. If you can’t pick it up with one hand, you can’t own it.  Very simple. This eliminates the right to personally own a cannon. No one can pick up a cannon with one hand. Go ahead and try it.

If you have a disability that prevents you from picking up the gun with one hand, then tough noogies. You can’t own a gun. If you are worried about protection but can't pick up a gun, the Hillside SPCA is flooded with pit bulls. Take a ride over and pick one out.

Some say this is preposterous. What about the mentally ill? Those with dementia? Those with Fregoli Delusion? Mad Cow Disease? The very young? The very restless? The fast? The furious? To those critics who would deny these people the right to bear arms, I say, read your F%&#  Constitution, or at least watch the #@!!% video version.

 

 Aren’t these F%&;*# people citizens of the F!&;?@#!#%&! U. S. of A. too? Aren’t they protected by the &#%!@?!" Constitution? If they can pick up a &#%!@?) gun with one hand, then who the F has the right to deny them their Friggin rights!!!! (My shrink told me using "the F bomb" will guarantee to triple my hits on the blog. Middle school kids absolutely love it).

Our Bill of Rights has been trampled on for years; just read Article VII: “In suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved.”

I once sued an old hook-up. She drank a bottle of my Friggen Tanqueray gin one weekend (the weekend of the American Way Fair, if you are really nosey) and she refused to pay me for it after we split up the following Monday and went our separate ways.

You know that bottle had cost me about 27 Friggen bucks.  I went to the Friggen Squire’s office and demanded a Friggen jury trial.

                                                                
                                         I. never. Friggen. got. one!

What about my Friggen Constitutional right to a Friggen jury trial as promised by Friggen Article VII?  Not even in Friggen Gilberton do they give citizens their full 7^th Amendment rights.

My shrink told me I should throw some video showing off my support of the 2nd Amendment into the blog.  He said it should increase the traffic to my site and increase my hits. So here it goes.  It contains some violence. I hope it works. I hope I go viral.

Keep coming back.
 

 

polka: the final insult

I nearly fell off my roof the other day. Not the roof at my primary home but my summer home in Gilberton. Well, not really my summer home... but my time share. I was up there trying to get my antenna ready for the big day, June 12 th; the day when television reception signals were scrambled. I don’t know about you, but I recommend having the large Australian rabbit ear antenna on the roof. It helps with getting clearer reception for Baywatch.
I had always been reluctant to sign up for cable tv even though cable television was created in Mahanoy City, not far from my summer time share. I refuse to pay for something that I can get for free. It doesn’t matter if it involves television or my love life. It must be my upbringing.
Don’t think that I was never tempted to hook-up with cable television or a satellite dish. I often thought about it. I am envious of cable subscribers who can watch the bulletin board on Comcast Channel 7 or Pottsville Station Channel 15 throughout the day. But luckily through the kindness of friends I have amassed a great bulletin board video library.
I nearly fell off of the roof that day because Mammy yelled up and told me that the Grammy Award Show has stripped Polka of its recognition as music. It was a shock I will never forget. No more awards to a polka band! To add insult to injury, all past polka recipients must return their awards accompanied by a written apology. It was the saddest day of my life since Pluto was stripped of its status as a planet. It brought back memories of the day Jim Thorpe had to return his Olympics medals and then face banishment in Mauch Chunk.
The Polka Industry should have listened to me. I tried to warn them. I was a voice crying out in the wilderness. I told them that the music needed to become hip and relevant. I suggested that twenty per cent of all future polka albums use such terms as ‘ho,’ ‘bizzle,’ ‘big behind,’ 'pimp’ and ‘gettin' jiggy.’ If the vocalists were too prudish to use such terms in english, then they could slip them in songs using Polish or Russian slang. Crude word usage such as 'cichodajka,' 'bljad', and 'dupek' may have helped save the grammy recognition.

I also told them that their dress had to be modernized. I said, “…get more gold chains…. let your underwear show…and for God’s sake,get your noses and eyebrows pierced…” Maybe they should appear in public only wearing their socks, just like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I told them to dump the upbeat melodies and focus more on pain, despair and death. I told them to get rid of the E-I-E-I-Os and introduce guttural roars, grunts, snarls, and low gurgles. I also told them to get some woman onstage during the next Pierogi Bowl, maybe Mrs. T herself, and have a "wardrobe malfunction," like Janet Jackson had at the Superbowl several years ago. But no one listened to me, not Happy Louie, not Joe Stanky, not even Little Andy himself. Even though this is what the public wants, the polka industry refused to change course, and now the polka industry is finished, worthless as my unused tickets for the Lakewood Roller Coaster.

I carefully got down from the roof and went into the parlor to wait for the government to scramble my television reception from analog into digital. Mammy was scared; she remembered what had happened to our computer when the millennium started. “Will the remote control now adversely affect her pacemaker?” “Will the Prince of Belair still remain fresh?” “Will the same old crap still be on?” We held each other tight and shared a cigarette; waiting for the moment to arrive. “Would the NBC Peacock begin molting, shedding its feathers?” “Would Law and Order have too much Order and not enough Law?” “Will Morley be any Safer?”

All the while my mind drifted back to the shabby treatment given the Polka. I swore that day that if my tv set still worked I would never watch the Grammies ever again. Instead I would watch some of my old analog tapes of the Community Bulletin Board.

When the big day came the government mandated change-over was actually easier than back in the late 1970s,when everyone was forced to convert from eight-track to cassette.