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| Tony and Dario Brandenburg |
Oh Mother of God, if I Don't Cave in We'll Lose Our ... Library. Be honest. When was the last time you went to the library? I mean that cute one in Sierra Madre, the one that we drive past every day on our way to somewhere else. Yeah, that one. I don't remember either. Once in a while I go to the Walnut Branch of the Pasadena Library and get books. I am totally cool with their taxpayers paying for a library for me to get books from. Check it out, I am a big boy and I have big boy britches, and I can go a couple miles to get a book. Hell, Abe Lincoln did it, and he didn't even have a Ford to take him there.
Put that in your stove pipe hat and smoke it.
I think the last time I actually went to the Sierra Madre Library was around the time my youngest one was in grade school and half of the Sierra Madre Elementary School staff, the horse jockey, the Navy Seal, the then Los Angeles County Sheriff/prisoner beater, and the District Attorney all decided he was the most dangerous 6 year old on the planet.
Yeah, I haven't forgotten any of those fine people. I'm probably the only agnostic on the planet who prays to the Dark Lord to rain brimstone all over their pathetic souls.
But, yeah, the school had decided a punishment room was a better choice for the money, not a librarian at the elementary school. Much more practical to get the suckers in Sierra Madre to pay for a library so that Pasadena kids going to school here don't have to read cereal boxes, the Internet, and endless tax me mailers sent by the Sierra Madre Police Association PAC and Sierra Madre City Council turncoats.
Oh, hey, did I ever tell you about how the Los Angeles District Attorney and his wife went to the PUSD superintendent a couple three years back with a letter about how afraid of us they were? This being the big bad wolf that blows down all the gang bangers houses with cease and desists?
Hilarious. Remind me to find their whiney crybaby letter that they walked over to the superintendent one of these days. Yeah, the Pasadena Unified School District gave it to us, mostly because they were as baffled by it as we were.
Notorious B.R.A.H.
We stopped fighting to keep our boys in the PUSD public sector a while ago. We finally decided to let the PUSD put them into a private school. It was the smartest thing we ever did - giving up that fight. Now my kids get an education at a taxpayer cost that would feed a third world nation.
Fine. You win, District Attorney, and so did your queen. And the rest of you namby-pamby twerps. Good on you. Lol.
Speaking of District Attorneys, did our smirky Councilman Little Johnny Sunshine really get himself a job with the rest of that piddle of pond scum? Somehow that makes perfect sense to me.
Oh yeah, I was talking about the Library. I know, I know. It's cute, it's ours, and it makes us feel all high, mighty, and superior to the other cities because we have it. We like to wear our privileges out in front like that.
But, much like the Assisted Living Facility, and its groovy street level shops that the marketing guy promised as they sucked out the water and kicked up the dust - and all of those groovy stores in town - no one actually uses any of it. Well, except for the bar and the coffee shops. Even those would get a boost if they sold hash instead of donuts. It won't be long.
Yeah. The library. We really care, man.
Police Department
Good grief. Again? What do they want now? A tank? More chalk to mark my tires? A bitchen Camaro with psychedelic blue and red lights? Paintballs? Another taser? Detective Amos back targets?
And oh, please God help us if they leave and we don't have our own Police Department. Those are the things that matter, right? Because, much like the Sierra Madre Library - the Sierra Madre Police Department is ours, and it gives us that pride that makes us better than everyone else.
I know, I know. They make you feel safe. Me too. I know that you will wear your seat belts correctly, and park between the lines. When they are actually painted there.
But what, exactly, are we worried about?
A home invasion in the middle of the night?
I have seen some gnarly skunks, raccoons, a thirsty coyote, and a pack of marauding squirrels out late into the post-Buccaneer last call night creeping around. Maybe one of them could talk to the owl that keeps crapping on my car. I have a permit that I bought from the po-po so I have first dibs on that spot. I'm sure the owl does not.
Me, I've lived here 25 years, and though I had a neighbor around 20 years back who acted batshoot crazy, the only people who've ever pointed guns at me were Sierra Madre Police. They wanted me to drop my towel.
Good thing I was dressed.
UUT, or the Tax Hike that Cried "Wolf"
Just when the whiney crybaby crap had mellowed out as much as it could in this town, back came the rate hike that wouldn't flake-off-and-die.
Apparently the City Council hasn't figured out that after two elections we don't want it. So here we go again.
I know, there's this big huge DEBT that can only be fixed by raising taxes. I get it. We pay for a Police Department that outsources as much as they can (parking permits anyone?) and we gotta boost those revenues somehow to make sure we can pay their salaries and benefiber - I mean benefits - so they have the time to outsource more.
We can't seem to make enough bank on our craft fairs and all the streams of buses going up and down the street to see the damn wistaria. Porta-potties cost money! They don't grow on diminished pepper trees!
Oh, help me Jesus, if we don't do this we're going to lose everything that makes us so quaint and full of ourselves. God help us if we have to actually be responsible for ourselves and our well-being. Everyone knows we really need a city government to budget for us. What would we do without that Wistaria Fete, the Halloween Parade, and the oh-so-vital Huck Finn Fishing Derby MWD swamp.
Yeah, yeah. I know. Shame on me for fish bashing.
Donald Trump
Speaking of which. Thank you Dingleberry Don for dragging politics down to a whole new level. The best pissing match on earth. Grab your rulers, gentlemen. The candidate with the biggest hands wins.
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