Tuesday, November 29, 2005

View From The Back Pew

There are quite a few different religions that bear an uncanny resemblance to the others raising some suspicions as to the originality of any particular religion. Buddhism and Christianity come to mind almost immediately. It would appear Christ was sitting next to Buddha during the big test and was taking more than a casual glance at Buddha’s paper. Not to say Christ would have cheated on his SATs or anything, I am just saying it seems as though there are too many parallels just to be coincidence. Judaism and the Moslems, same idea; different brother.

There are even parallels between the Scientologists and Mormons. The Mormons believe folks were transported to the New Word via boat (the lost tribes really took a wrong turn at Albuquerque) the Scientologists figure it was a spaceship ala Hitchhikers guide. Whether it is "Jesus Comes to America" or "Close Encounters of the Mental Kind", every religion has its poster child. Tom Cruise for instance – he really typifies a whack-job that bases his beliefs on a Science Fiction Writer’s best shot at religion. L. Ron Hubbard must be wherever good (and dead) Scientologists go laughing his ass off at all the morons that took him seriously. Kabala is another sect I have trouble with, mainly because it seems it holds a fascination for new age past-their-prime hookers/rock singers. Joseph Smith must’ve been pissed at being plain old Joe Smith and having his friends complain about trying to find him in the phonebook and so came up with the famed golden plates. Not to be outdone Warren “Steed” Jeffs has made a real name for himself. The “Steed” probably refers to his prowess at banging 14 year old girls and hooking his old married buddies up with some young stuff. He remains at large. The conservative Christians have Ol’ Pat Robertson. With some of the crap that comes out of his mouth it is a wonder they let him wander around loose let alone clog the airwaves with his insane ramblings.

The Moslems have an entire gallery of America’s most wanted. Of course the belief as a body doesn’t hold with terrorism, although the terrorists seem to be doing it for someone and where are they getting all the money for those exploding cars? Not going to say anything about the Jews as I feel they have been unfairly picked on throughout history. Not sure why power hungry figures seem to hate the Jewish people so much (Pharaoh and Hitler for example) or why some societies have hung them with the blame for everything that goes wrong. Enough already.

Most disconcerting is that the Pharisees seem to have crept back into the temple while we weren’t watching. Whether it is the stereotypical well greased TV Evangelist parting folks from their cash, or a priest getting a little to frisky with his alter boys, there is a real mixed message coming across. Every religion seems to have some snapper-heads that make it near impossible to believe in whatever theology they are touting. Back to our friends the Moslems, for instance – apparently there is a sect that figures the key to heaven is blowing yourself up along with innocent bystanders. Now I don’t know dick about the bible except what was forced down my throat as a kid, but I seem to recall a little codicil about not killing each other for any reason. No exceptions, no exclusions, no fine print, no killing period dot. It also seems that all religions (save those based upon little green men) have some sort of rules including the no killing clause. It would seem then that the folks doing the killing, whether some Waco Whacko or virgin bound foreign Jihadist is probably not going to get virgins or be transported to paradise via a shiny UFO. But there are those that are well respected preachers in their chosen religion that swear that to kill the unbelievers (or the president of Venezuela) is the holiest thing you can do and you are not hell bound, oh no, you are a martyr.

Wonder why attendance at church is a bit off now-a-days?

Friday, November 25, 2005

Another Health Hazard?

First there were cigarettes and now M&M's, only the candy that melts in your mouth apparently goes for faster results. Instead of wrecking your lungs they drop a light pole on you. Ok, I exaggerate, they haven't killed anyone, yet.

And while we're at it, what is the Yellow dude doing to the red dude? Looks like a little aerial butt piracy to me, and it doesn't look as though Red is enjoying it too much. Posted by Picasa

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Turkey Neck

How’d They Do That???

Just looking at the T-day turkey and wondering how Mr. Bean was able to get his head inside. Not that I’d care to try it. Maybe it was CG or they used a stunt turkey made out of turkey ballistics gel. It was pretty damn funny from the outside, but I imagine it wouldn’t be so funny on the inside. Raw turkey, hot studio lights, and several takes would add up to a sensory nightmare inside that rapidly rotting bird.

Ah well, we may never know. Do have a Happy Thanksgiving and remember stuffing your turkey can be dangerous, particularly if the stuffing is your noggin.

Addendum to “The Kid’s Dickhead of the Week”

Never Write angry and if you do, check the spelling. After rereading the mess I entitled “Dickhead of the Week” I was horrified. The spelling mistakes made me look like the dickhead (though Mr. McCain and the “Gang of Three” aren’t off the hook on this one).

As far as Gary’s “support the troops” comment – I was one of the troops. I don’t want to see the common soldier’s life thrown away so casually or any American lives spent on a cause where the politicians set them up for failure (Fallujah part 1). Sen Murtah was in the mess on the ground so he knows. Forget he’s a Democrat – one party always plays the party politics card against the other when it espouses an unpopular cause. It is time to start withdrawing our folks.

It is also time to stop paying alternative energies sources lip service and make it happen. They are attacking us economically and we should do the same. Take their money away and leave them to live in their mud huts and treat their women like property (apparently many of them really like that idea).

Why aren’t the other gulf nations stepping in to help ease the situation (the answer is that by and large folks in that part of the world don’t dirty their hands when then can easily get someone else to do it – oh, and Gary, I was there and saw it for myself, in case you were wondering). It would be in their best interests to make sure Iraq develops as a peaceful and stable entity in the Gulf. So far the only Arab nations to participate are Iran, fomenting trouble behind the scenes; Saudi Arabia, providing “martyrs”, and Syria, giving the insurgents safe haven and allowing the “Martyrs” to pass freely through the shit-hole they call a country. Not very positive action on their parts. I suspect none of the despots AKA royal families want to see Democracy take root in the Gulf as it would be a death knell for their way of life (though they could become Republicans and exploit the living shit out of the poor so in effect nothing would change).

Anyway, it just doesn’t matter what I think. The rich and powerful are going to do what the please and the common man be damned. Like the senate declaration in Mel Brook’s “History of the World”, “Fuck the poor!”

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

The Kid's Dickhead of the Week

Something I just started after I saw arrogance favorite son Sen. John "Puffy" McCain on the news looking very presidential as he announced he wants to throw more of the boys into the meat grinder. To be fair I am not privy to the information he is, but it is my perception that by and large the Iraqis really don't want us there, whatever flavor they happen to come in. Mr. McCain's worries (and as rival The Dub has aid) he doesn't want Iraq to become a hotbed of Terrorism. Too late dickhead! It was too late after the first US boots hit the ground over there. That terrorism has already spread to Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and Syria as well as Europe, Indonesia, Australia, and here at home.

I was in the service, my son is now. I don't want to belittle Sen McCain's service, he sacrificed a lot and I can only admire him for that, but his politics suck. In the military we do what we're told to do, but it is time that some of the Jackasses in Washington rethink their abuse of the military.

Getting Goosed for X-mas

I find goose a bit on the pricey side at $5/lbs, so here’s a real money saving tip for all you traditionalists who have to have one of these flying shit-factories for X-mas dinner.

Materials List:

Plastic Six-pack holders 1 Butt-load
Feed Corn 2 Lbs
Machete 1
Large Nails 1 Butt-load
Goose Decoy (Optional)

Note: Make sure you get the old fashioned holders without the hippie approved break away rings – these are usually found on your cheaper store Brand “Dr. Doofus” kind of soda pops.

Step 1. Head out to the backyard (or neighborhood park) and scatter the plastic six-pack holders around on the ground. Drive one of the nails in the thick edge of each of the pop holders (otherwise the goose will just fly away with the holder, and while still amusing it won’t put dinner on the table).

Step 2. Scatter the feed corn over the pop holders and set up your decoy. You could get real fancy and get a goose call, but we’re trying to keep the price per pound down.

Step3. Hide and be patient

With any luck a goose (or geese – bonus!) will fly down and become enmeshed in the holders while trying to get their snack on. You may get other birds, which I call “trash birds” that you can just kill and toss in the neighbor’s bushes later. You may also get the occasional duck, another bonus.

Now Mr. Goose is really going to be pissed so you can’t just walk up and take him out of the holder. These are big nasty birds and they can inflict some real damage. A trip to the hospital is going to really drive the cost of your goose dinner through the roof. This is where the machete comes in. You kill two birds with one stone, pun intended, by lopping off the head. You might have to wait a few minutes to for things to calm down, and then you can retrieve your bird. None of the goose is wasted – save the head for some fun with the kids later (See “Bird Flew”).

What about all those feathers? Don’t worry, I call the feathers “nature’s cooking pouch”. Tip: If you toss the goose on the grill to cook the feathers will burn off saving you plucking time. Make sure you stand back from the grill because the smell is really nauseating. With any luck most of it will drift into your neighbor’s yard.

Now for the disclaimer. Some state fish and game departments view this as hunting. I call it “Nature’s Bounty” but they don’t see it that way and take a rather dim view of folks taking geese out of season, and there isn’t a license available for this rather unorthodox method of hunting (yet). There are probably some radical vegan-hippie organizations out there that would wet their pants if they find out about this as well. Bottom line, this is just intended as an amusing article - do not try this at home the chances of them serving goose in at the Federal Pen (these are migratory birds) is slim to none, though your cell mate might be inclined to play stuff the goose with you in the wee hours of the morning.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Bird Flew

Lots of fear out there today, but the one that baffles me the most is turekyalfornophobia, or the fear of shoving the bird in the oven, so to speak. I can’t understand what the problem is – the fun part, whacking the head off the turkey has already been taken care as well as the not fun part, plucking. You get a hunk of frozen bird with the sonar signature of a rock from the local Turkey-Mart and off you go. Of course you can still do it the old fashioned way and give your pet gobbler the axe, literally. Then you can turn the severed head into a finger puppet to frighten he occupants of the kid’s table.

No, the turkey in and of itself is not frightening. However, Aunt Marge coming though the door to visit for the holidays, now that’s frightening. I think what may be behind this fear is that either you won’t cook it properly and you’ll poison your party guests (not necessarily a negative in the case of Aunt Marge) or your guests will have to lick the dog’s ass to get the taste of your bungled bird out of their mouth. That or you don’t want the Mother-in-law to realize you are as a big a loser as she thought you were.

Well, don’t worry, you’ll do fine and if not, the garbage disposal needs to eat too. And the Mother-in-law isn’t getting any younger so you may have only a few years to have to listen to the tale of the time you totally screwed Thanksgiving and killed your Aunt Marge with your foul fowl. There’s something to be thankful for while you are doing the River Dance on Marge’s grave directly after the funeral.

How do I thaw my turkey? If you have dogs, no worries. Dog saliva really thaws the bird fast and remember Mythbusters proved that the dogs mouth is cleaner than ours. It also helps tenderize the meat a bit thanks to doggie digestive enzymes. If you don’t have a dog you can just leave it out in the sun on the driveway and it will be thawed by evening (unless you are a Yankee, in which case the bird will actually freeze even harder – my advice, get a dog). Once thawed crank that oven – you’ll be amazed how high you can get it – just to the verge of turning the steel in the stove into a silly little molten puddle on your kitchen floor. Next to just hitting it with a flamethrower this is the quickest way to get the bird done. Oh sure it will be dry as a popcorn fart and taste like that stuff that stuck to the bottom of your shoe walking out fo the bathroom at the local theater, but is is only Aunt Marge and the In-laws, so screw ‘em.

Anyway, have a great Thanksgiving and don’t worry, the coroner is on standby.

Screw the Bastards

Here’s our big chance!  The Iraqi’s want a time table for us to leave and who are we to argue?  I know Cheney wants us to stay as guards for his old company and the Bushmaster is salivating over all that oil that isn’t his so it ain’t happenin’, but  I say it is high time to stop wasting American lives on those bastards.  You want to support our troops, then pull them out of that shit-hole before we lose anymore soldiers.  Most of the generals are fucked in the head – they want life after the army so they are happy to suck congressional (and presidential) dick to make that happen.  After having been in the military I realize that few of the upper level leaders are worth a damn.  They say the cream rises to the top, but shit also floats.

I think it might be best to dust off Saddam and put him back in charge.  Sure he’s the squid’s dick, but a least he kept the rest of the little assholes in check. And here’s a message for our commander-in-chief, if you want to defeat the terrorists get off the oil.  Go alcohol (Bush should be familiar with that), hydrogen, whatever and leave our Arab pals sucking air through a straw.  No oil money no funds for terrorists from Buttslamistan.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Generation P

Yes I am of that special age where it is time for me to start telling younger generations how they are dicking everything up.  We certainly did raise a fine crop of pussies, I must say. For instance, riding a bike.  Never wore a helmet.  The only kid that wore a helmet was that little retarded boy (oh shit, you can’t say retarded!!! He/she is “Special”) that kept banging his head on the floor - although after 29 years of marriage I am about to get my own helmet.  Never read one word of anyone egregiously injured because they didn’t wear a helmet.  We took our lumps, and the pain was a good teacher.  You fall off your frikkin’ bike a couple times and that skinned knee is good incentive to be more careful.  A little iodine and a “Supid Ass!” from mom and we were good to go.  Try keeping some iodine in medicine cabinet and you’ll suddenly notice junior is getting a lot fewer “boo-boos”.

You always new when you had dicked it up.  No time outs, no re-direction (unless you count the old man redirecting his boot to your ass), no “You have to be positive”.  We got a warning, usually, and if we persisted dad applied corrective measures.  This was a lesson that stuck with you – I re-iterate, pain is a good teacher.  Now Generation P (for pussy) sends junior to his room to play video games and watch tv.  Bottom line is no repercussions =no lesson learned = junior grows up to be a regular on cops (the one without the shirt and with all the tattoos).  I am not advocating curbstomping the kid or using a 9 iron – use what little judgment mom and dad may have bequeathed you. Also, bear in mind you may be stronger now, but it ain’t always going to be that way, best not to foster any ill feelings that come back to haunt you when you are old and feeble.

If you were going to do something malicious, say give the neighbor kid’s bike a ghost ride down the stairs at school, you made damn sure you wouldn’t get caught before you lofted the bike.  Or redecorate your asshole neighbor’s roof with rotten fruit or dog shit.

You need to let your pride and joy make some decisions without the safety net and accept the consequences of his of her actions.  I am not saying let the kid take Dad’s .357 to school, use what few brains genetics allowed you. The kid’ll learn you do something good you may get some praise (most likely you’ll be ignored because everyone is busy dealing with the kid that thinks he’s a gansta), or if you do something bad there is an ass-whipping in your immediate future.  Pay attention to junior, do things with him, read to him and do everything in your power to make sure he grows up with a strong concept of good and bad. If it comes to spending money on your kid or that new nail through your forehead/tattoo on your huge ugly wife’s face (no shit, you can see these women wandering around “down to the Wal-mart”.  Oh and honey, comes a time in life where that bare midriff thing just ain’t makin’ it – or can’t you find a shirt that fits over that extra stomach?) And for God’s sake don’t expect the public schools to fix your mistake.  You dicked him up, you straighten him out, and then send him to school.  

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Don't Feed The Animals

I remember going to the zoo with my brother.  Our parents would drop us off there with a couple of bucks for popcorn and then leave.  The zoo was kind of like a county provided daycare for my brother and me.  We had our favorite animals to visit, the train to ride, and mischief to perform.  I think all the animals moved to the backs of their cages when they heard we were on the premises.  

First stop was always Monkey Island.  In the winter the monkeys were confined to their glass monkey house.  The smell coming off that house was enough to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon at 30 paces. The rest of the year they were pretty much free range monkeys, exploring their little island, running around trying to hump each other and attempting to “swing for the fence” when slinging their feces towards the audience.

Come to think of it, those monkeys were the perfect entertainers.  They worked cheap – you just had to pitch them a marshmallow and they didn’t feel obligated to express their political views as though since they are stars it is their God given right like human entertainers.  It was fun to toss the marshmallow into the water and make them swim out to get it.  Looking back I now wonder why, if they could swim well enough to get the marshmallow, they didn’t just swim the rest of the way and escape.    It wasn’t like the Musky pond at Aqualand where you could buy a frog and toss it into the pond – he thought he was getting away until a Musky reared up and devoured it.  No Musky in the monkey lagoon.  The way that water looked I doubt even a carp could have coped.  The only challenge was when someone put a stone in the middle of the marshmallow, so it would sink, leaving the monkey paddling around in silly little circles looking for its treat.  

Bear in mind this was the good old days when you could feed the animals.  Hell, the grizzlies would do tricks for ice cream bars.  I saw one old dude with a whole box of Eskimo Pies chucking one after another to grizzlies who were sitting up, rolling over, and playing dead (most of the bears did that really well, as the slept a lot – even hitting them in the head with a few well thrown peanuts wouldn’t rouse ‘em).  You could hold a piece of popcorn up in the bird house and these gray and white birds would swoop down and grab it out of your fingers. Pretty cool.  Almost as much fun as ducking down in your zoo train car and tying to hit pedestrians with a nice juicy lunger as you went over the bridge.

The conversation that brought all this back was one my brother and I had about a flock of Emus that were killed by a mountain lion out here.  If there was a Noble type prize in the bird world, the Emu would get the one for stupidest bird ever.  Ok, they have a bird brain, so you can’t expect much from the onset, but Emus must have one the size of a chick pea.  I can guarantee that while that mountain lion was killing one Emu, the rest of the birds were waiting in line to be next.  The ones at the zoo were no different.  They would come up to the glass to look at us, at which time we’d hold up our arm, put our index finger and thumb together to resemble a beak and start a “pecking” at the glass.  The Emu would become enraged and try to peck its “rival”.  This resulted in a rather large bang from Emu noggins impacting some pretty sturdy glass.  The fun thing is you could get them to do it over and over again.

Speaking of banging glass, Sampson the gorilla was the champ.  There were kids that brought teasing the animals to the next level.  They teased the snakes in their cases to the point where if the snakes could get out they would bite them.  But they teased Sampson until he wanted to pecker-slap them and he would hit the glass of his enclosure so hard it made the glass shatter.  Fortunately it was safety glass so it didn’t give way.  

It has been a long time since I have been to the zoo and things have changed – you can no longer feed the animals, but I’ll bet you could still get the Emus to bash their gourds into the glass…

Friday, November 18, 2005

A.H. on taking over the world

Ach, that first time, I must have a hole in my head!! You can't conquer the world with buzzbombs or blitzkriegs! I took a page out of my former ally's page. Japan couldn't take Hawaii by force, so they bought it.

Stupid Americans are so desperate to buy each new piece of crap some factory, music studio, or movie studio grinds out that it is easy to lure them into allowing me to build one of my stores in their neighborhood. Once I have it all set I wipe out all the local businesses and improvrish the residents. Too bad that crappy drug store has all the street corners already.

Love and Kisses,

Addie Posted by Picasa

 Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

An Evil Marsupial

Let’s reflect upon one of nature’s most misunderstood wonders, shall we?? Little is known of the wombat – difficult to catch, crafty, fast, and deadly, yes, deadly. Here is the definition I stole from Encarta on-line:

wom·bat [ wóm bàt ] (plural wom·bats)
Definitions: small Australian marsupial: a burrowing marsupial that is short, robust, covered in dense wiry hair, and has a stumpy tail and wide blunt snout. Native to: Australia. Latin name Vombatus ursinusLasiorhinus

Shows you what they know. Marlin Perkins the great naturalist from Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom was actually killed by a wombat. This was covered up by Jim (his inept assistant) who was off attempting sexual congress with a python at the time. See, Jim was supposed to keep an eye on the old coot and do all the dangerous stuff, though one has to admit practicing his night moves with a 40 foot snake is pretty dangerous. Anyway, I digress; we are after all discussing the sly, cunning, vicious wombatus terriblesRalph. It was named after Ralph Crockbait the famous Aussie naturalist upon discovery of his remains outside the den of a wombat. They inhabit caves, hence the phrase children use on the potty, “The wombat is having trouble coming out of his cave” meaning the child is constipated. There is also a potty problem called “prairie dogging”, which we will explore during the discussion of that foul creature.

The wombat is indeed a dangerous animal. Oh sure, they all look cuddly. That allows them to approach closely to their intended victim. “Oh how cute” are many a victim’s last words - words that make a really lousy epitaph. None of the wombat’s victim is wasted. Any parts that can’t be eaten by the crazed wombat are used to decorate his cave, which in turn attracts female wombats, and that is the start of many baby wombats. The males have to be quick during mating, otherwise, much like human females lady wombats will eat their mates alive and wind up with custody of the cave and the Ferrari (if wombats could actually drive a Ferrari would be their auto of choice).

As far as wiping them out (and they should be) the best method is to attack them shortly after mating when the male can be seen lolling on the ground smoking a cigarette, after he has put some distance between him and the ravening female, that is. The Louisville Slugger is the preferred weapon, making its debut as the official bat of the Olympics in the seal beating demonstration sport event. Whackity-whack, don’t talk back and you have one mutilated wombat pelt. PETA will be happy to note that no one in their right mind would make a fur coat out of wombat owing to the foul stench that won’t come out. Even engine degreaser has no effect.

Hope this enlightens the gentle reader as to the voracity of the nasty wombat. Head down to the local Wal-Mart, pick your way through the permanent family reunion that always seems to be going on right in the middle of the frikkin’ entry way, and get yourself a slugger. Real men use wood and disdain aluminum. Then it is off to the wilds and whack yourself a ‘bat. It’ll make you feel so much better and rid the world of an evil menace…

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Darkness Rising

There is an evil rising in El Mirage. It is insidious, a malignant spirit that consumes souls and brings blight on everything it touches. Yes, the local government wants to put a Wal-Mart in my backyard. There are two reasons, money (of course) being the first. The second is that it’s not going in their backyard so they won’t see their property values plummet.

Wal-Mart brings with it a history of sexism, low pay, and dragging crime and shabbiness along in its wake (me thinks El Mirage has enough of said attributes). Worst yet is when it decides to relocate leaving an abandoned building behind and the city holding the bag. I saw that happen in Clovis, NM – already the shabby capitol of the US (El Mirage runs a close second and needs no help moving up the list) when Wal-Mart pulled out of the mall and relocated leaving a gaping hole where the anchor should have been. Wal-Mart isn’t in business to do the average chump any favors. They don’t make money by allowing labor unions into their store, paying their employees high wages, or providing reasonable health plans. They are in business to put the gouge on everyone to fill the corporate pockets. Oh, and if you are a small business owner in town, might as well burn the shop down and collect the insurance - beat the rush to go out of business and lose everything you worked so hard for and the rest of you might want to re-think those great jobs (see The Wal-Mart Effect)...

They recently tried to put on a happy face and tell everyone they are going green. That would be a good step – they can start by staying out of my neighborhood and telling the city to establish a park there instead.

Be afraid; be very afraid if you live in my subdivision, especially if you ever plan on selling your home. If you have any doubts about the veracity of my claims do a simple Internet search where you can read about other communities that have felt the impact of Wal-Mart or are struggling to keep the big box stores out of thier neighborhoods.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Dance to the Drum

This past Veteran’s Day was probably one of the best. Aside form being in the US to celebrate the holiday with my family, I got to see a special Powwow at ASU West. This Powwow honored all the Native American Vets (Native Americans have been bolstering the ranks for the American Armed forces through the Civil War to the present, with one in four Native Americans having served in the military) with dancing and traditional music. One of the most outstanding drums were the Panther Creek Singers. There were a total of six drums at the celebration, and dozens of dancers. Styles ranged form Northern plains to deep Southwest. The music was tremendous – very stirring.

I have enjoyed Native American music since first coming across it on public radio in South Dakota. Black Lodge Singers, Keith Secola, Redleaf Singers, Youngbird, are a few of the different groups I have listened to, but best way to experience the music is at thew powwow. With the drums, the singing, and the fancy dancers it is truly a feast for the senses.

I hope the Powwow at ASU will be an annual event – it was tremendous!

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Slow Death in El Mirage

Here I am living in beautiful El Garbage, also known as El Mirage, AZ. I reside in a brand new dying neighborhood, one of the Valley’s newest developing ghettos run by a succession of political failures. Each successive city government has managed to dig the hole the El Mirage has become a little deeper. The shine is wearing off the new neighborhoods as they become rife with rentals. The original settlement is a pock on the ass of the earth, festering puss it calls a CBD.

Why not move? Ah, that remark always earns me the dreaded “Look” for the better half. I have been trapped by circumstance and economics.

I have attempted to become more civically involved with the hope of being able to have a bit of a voice – that is not going to happen, however. The folks running things have little or no concern about the desires of others – sound familiar? Even a committee I am now on has a prescribed agenda geared to advancing ASU and there will be no deviation from that agenda.

This has been a bit of a rant – not a great idea for my first post, not terribly funny, but I had to get that out. El Mirage, its government, the Home Owner’s Association, and the hill-folk that live in it be damned, halleluiah, amen.