0721/1908 82/90 Blue Skies ESE/5 75%H.
DOGS 960 7145 1028 1701.
Greetings from the Hill.
A perfect morning in paradise,
oddly busy on the street,
perhaps the early voters
absenting the scondrels from power.
The effects of the recession
seem oblivious to the town council
as plans go forward
for TWENTY MILLION DOLLAR offices
to operate a ghost town
with cruise ship fees.
Kings and Princes of Duncedom
following the great leadership
of Obumboy from whence all comes
October, the usual month of business,
partimers grooming homes for FantasyFest,
once a weekend, now a monthly
celebration of delusion and illusion,
this years' theme....
"Certainly appropriate to Barney Franks
and Bendover Obama, hofuckingho,"
laughs the madone watering roosters
on the sidewalk sending them
flying in front of cars...
"Fly fly, far away from the rooster hag,"
below on the porch enticing them
with her cursed flute.
The roosters were occupying the block
and the empty houses,
perching on the railings,
shitting on the porch floors,
six soldiers sqawking
on each side of the street,
their pecking ground the only
hundred foot lawn in town,
the corner lot.
The school board scandal with
the asshole Acevedo family,
bubba'd in with Fat Mac
who seems to empower influence
despite a hopeless failure at everything,
the corruption of bureaucracy
that sustains through incestuous
blackmail, bribery and patronage
flourishes as an immortal saint
of the Conch Republic.
"Fuck the government, piss on the feds,
take their money and remember to forget,"
the usual theme song of locals
regarding any intrusions of elements
beyond the county line,
public or private.
The hippies had found paradise...
far out islands and choice buds,
Big Mac was in the gang.
Gayboys found the Columbian Connection,
fruity old men gentrified houses,
partying at LaTeDa.
The Days before Aids.
"Thirty years after and your'e alive,
must be a virgin and a drunk,"
suggests the madone,
seen it all, heard it all.
Another week of bullshit from Obama,
"Focusing your life solely on making a buck
shows a certain poverty of ambition.
It asks too little of yourself,
because it is only when
you hitch your wagon to something larger
than yourself that you realize
your true potential."
Once again that mysterious 'it'
and the Wagon Trail.
This silly ass must write
these sorryass scripts himself.
Snorkling in a Sea of Debt...
Treading water in the Toxic Lake.
An amusing site, Stupid Quotes,
by famous people, necessary reference.
"Financial Markets are inherently unstable
and there are social needs that cannot be met
by giving free market free rein.
Unfortunately their defects are not recognized.
Instead there is a widespread belief...
that markets are selfcorrecting,"
George Soros, killer of Jews.
"It is not the resposibility of the Federal Reserve
nor would it be appropriate to protect
leaders and investors from the consequences
of thier financial decisions.....
I expect there will be failures,
I don't expect any serious problems
among large investment banks
that make up the substantial part
of the banking system,"
offered Chairman Ben.
"'It' is one fuck of a mess and less known,
chasing down David X Li
and the Gaussian Copula
or finding the counterparties
in Greenberg's AIGF,
another CFR spy....
and what about the owners
of the twelve Federal Reserve banks
who worry Alger Hart,
yes indeed, that scary unknown
could make one fart
in the black of night,"
worried the oldman,
thirsty at noon.
Hardly a breeze
in the keys.
Inside the Reef.
Above the Horn.