Local Mayor Forced To Flee After Harrowing Late Night Altercation With Crazed, Crafty, Incredibly 'Fleet-Footed', Devil-Inspired Raccoon

In a shocking example of modern man running afoul of primeval nature at its most sinister and horrifying, a local Mayor was confronted with almost certain death and/or dismemberment when, under the cover of darkness, he boldly ventured out into his own yard (he was actually inside the fence, however) to try to locate one of his two (2) housecats who had not yet come in for the night, in spite of the cold. The Mayor, never one to stand on pomp and ceremony, was walking about, feet clad only in 'unusual' moccasin-like house slippers that should never be seen by another living soul save himself and maybe his poor, sweet, (somewhat vision impaired, thank goodness for her!) mother ('those darn faux-Native American slippers were a gift, I swear it!! I'd never buy something like that - certainly not!! How dare you even suggest such a thing!!' he stammered lamely (while still wearing the offending 'footwear') with just a tad too much protest for genuine credibility), calling 'here kitty, kitty, kitty" and 'darn your eyes, you ungrateful wretch - come here right this instant!' (like that ever had a chance of working!) when out of the corner of his eye a dark, unholy shape began to pick up speed and approach at 'a hellish full gallop' (raccoons are known to reach running speeds approaching 15 MPH, although the Mayor's current land-speed potential is considerably less than that!) - thus causing the near-sighted and decidedly 'lilly-livered' Mayor to make a hasty (and ultimately flawed!) 'current threat analysis' that, if botched (as it was!), could result in an animal mauling unseen in Lamont since Thelma Festoon got her overly-large (some would modestly say 'beefy') hand stuck in the bird cage and received any number of vicious 'parakeet pecks' - several of which almost required stitches. Later crime scene analysis from the Lamont CSI proved the pecks to be largely defensive in nature, however, so no charges were ever filed! (Town sympathy from the start tended to run with the traumatized parakeet after this incident became widely known, needless to say!)

"Well, I am by nature a shameless coward of near-biblical proportions, so thus my first inclination when seeing a boiling, angry, hissing mass of fangs and fur move with due dispatch in my general direction (whether friend or foe!) is to scream like a school girl and run for whatever shelter presents itself thru panicked, adrenaline-enhanced vision, regardless of how flimsy or dubious this protection turns out to be, but for some reason I was still harboring the near-fatal illusion that the charging 'Devil-Beast' or 'Spawn of Satan' or whatever it was could still possibly be my wayward, rebellious, obviously disloyal cat (in the dark, all cats and raccoons look gray - or so they say!) - so I lingered too long for good sense and comfort and the darn thing almost had a chance to head me off 'at the pass'. Sure, all that girl-like screaming more than likely served to disorient the beast and throw off the timing of its attack, but few people I know have a more overly developed 'fight or flight' response (heavy on the flight!) than I do, so I was ultimately saved by primordial instincts that I can take very little credit for" he said humbly!

Although no blood was actually shed that night, the intrepid Mayor, after regaining his composure (and changing his shorts!), found the supposedly 'lost cat' upstairs in the storage closet 'cat-napping' on a sleeping bag - and after a few choice words on the species-specific shortcomings of the feline animal group in general, proceeded to make sure all the doors were locked and thanked the Good Lord for the fact that, thru sheer laziness, the Mayor never got around to installing that new, fancy 'cat door' and thus exposing his person to nerve-wracking animal assaults at all hours of the day or night. The raccoon, however, wandered away into the darkness, no doubt chuckling at the overly-dramatic response it was able to illicit from a creature supposedly at the top of the so-called 'food chain'.

Local 'Angry Man' Even More Angry After Being Ordered To Attend 'Anger Management' Classes

The fiery furnace of unrestrained anger flared once again after a local man, Denton Festoon, 29, was ordered by the court to undergo supervised 'anger management' classes to help him overcome a life of, well, uncontrolled anger - an emotion that has caused him to traipse on the shady side of the law more often than was appropriate, or so it would seem in the eyes of the long-suffering Judge. Denton, whose coping skills are those of a young, spoiled child, never learned the essentials of self-restraint after being raised in a household that many recall as being 'filled with shouting and things flying thru the air', and that had a semi-permanent cloud of quite extensive and varied profanity hovering right above where he was raised with 3 other angry, self-entitled siblings by less-than-constrained and highly-volatile parents.

"Oh, that makes me so mad!!" said Mr. Festoon while briskly running his hands thru his tragically thinning hair, pacing back and forth menacingly while making no attempt to conceal his beet red cheeks. "If they want me to stop being so angry, then why do they have to go and tell me what to do? I get so mad when people tell me what to do! I would never be mad in the first place if people didn't spend so much time making me mad!" he said, spittle flying in a 180 degree arc from his wildly undulating, snarling, near bloodless lips. "Like that time there was that new clerk at Wal-Mart and she didn't ask me nicely enough to 'have a good day' after I spent the last of my money on that 30-pack of beer or when I was out in the yard, minding my own business, picking up beer cans from the night before (in a 'wife-beater' tee-shirt, no less!) and 'Old Man Snopes' drove by and gave me a less than enthusiastic wave! Who does he think he is?? I can't be blamed for getting angry when people go so far out of their way to provoke me. I just don't see why the whole world does not cater to my poorly defined, ever-changing and mercurial moods and to my largely unstable mental state. And they should know when I have been drinking in excess and adjust their behavior accordingly - whether they are strangers or not!!! If they did that then everything would be just fine."

"But no, people just act like my minute-by-minute mood swings are of no interest to them. Well, I'll show them that they better take an interest in me!!! I'll show them! I have a long memory and I always get even - regardless of how small or totally contrived my grievance actually is!" he bellowed insanely. "And who does that Judge think he is telling me what to do? He should just mind his own darn business and butt out of my life!! If I get in trouble with the Law again for losing all self-control - then I can just blame it all on that no-good, meddling, 'goodie-two-shoes' judge. I know for a fact that it ain't my fault. And when people insinuate that I might bear some of the responsibility for my own actions - that is when I get really mad!!! See, I am in a vicious cycle! Regardless of what happens I end up getting mad. Why can't the whole world just see that and adjust itself accordingly?" he raged, his temples throbbing with huge, purple, snake-like veins that were not there a minute ago.

Official Town 'Busy Body' Sets Bedtime For Entire Town At 8:30 PM Sharp!

In a long overdue move (according to some) designed to save on heating costs and to cut down on and/or eliminate clandestine 'late night shenanigans' and unseen 'rabble-rousing', Elma Snopes, age 71, a recent farm widow, has formally decreed that anyone in Lamont not under the covers when she comes in to turn off the light is going to 'get the what-for, and how!' Elma, a walking example of "early to bed, early to rise" as well as "only the good die young', is a firm believer in the age old precept of 'idle hands (not observed by her) are the devil's workshop", has the onset of age-related night-blindness and fears that she will miss out on a tremendous amount of 'scoop' and 'scuttle-butt' if things go on in the Town that are outside her natural abilities to snoop on due to a medical condition that is no fault of her own. "Well, someone has to step up to micromanage and pass judgment on the individual actions of the townsfolk lest things begin to happen that I am not the first to know about" said Elma 'Snoopy' Snopes, showing the grit and determination of a bulldog clamped on the mailman's leg. (Editorial Note: At the Lamont Blog we are by-and-large 'gender sensitive' so thus prefer the term "mail-person". Anyone offended by this insensitive and shockingly 'politically-incorrect' banter should complain directly to the writer and not to the Town of Lamont, who, as a metropolis, is just as appalled as you are, if not more so!) "My son, Jethro, had an 8:30 PM bedtime for decades, still does, and he lived at home with momma until he turned 51 - just last year. (until he was finally thrown in the slammer!) In never seemed to hurt him none. Sure, he's been married 6 times and has a 'rap sheet' as long as your arm, but no one ever said that my boy had bags under his eyes, for Pete's sake! He's my little angel!" she said lovingly. "Sure, leading a life of crime only during daylight hours has its disadvantages, but it ain't my fault that my boy ain't that bright. Just look at his father, rest his soul. Let's just say that the gene pool on that side of the family ain't more than ankle deep! But anyway, having the town get a good night sleep is a good thing, especially if it gives me a chance to shamelessly meddle in the lives of the entire town!!" said the mother-in-law-like menace to Town peace and happiness - to say nothing of basic privacy principles enshrined someplace in the Bill of Rights or Constitution or Magna Carta or whatever important document covers that sort of thing!

Economic Hard Times: Two Dozen Coyotes Queue Up In Cold, Pre-Dawn Darkness For Single, Solitary Sheepdog Job

In a heartbreaking testimony on the sorry state of the economy in the Palouse, a scene reminiscent of the "Great Depression' unfolded itself this weekend when an extremely rare job opening was posted on a local telephone pole (just about knee high!) at the corner of 7th and Main in Lamont. "Well, it is enough to break your heart!" said 'Skeeter' Snodgrass, 53, one of only two sheep farmers in the Lamont area (the other one is an extremely astute, smart and savvy businessman and thus has a lower employee turnover rate so has had no need to advertise for replacement personnel). "You know, this is a free country with open employment laws, so if my old sheepdog wanted to go down to the New Mexico/Arizona border to ply his trade, there ain't a darn thing I can do about it!" said Snodgrass. "The 'old boy' was getting up in years anyway, and that warmer weather down there can only help that onset of arthritis that has been plaguing him for the last several years. Anyway! So, after the wife baked him a cake and we said our 'good-byes', it finally dawned on me that it ain't good business to be a sheep farmer and not have a dadburn sheepdog, so I had the wife work her magic on the computer and printed up a single flyer. I half expected one or two half-hearted replies - you know - some Border Collie with a drinking problem or some lab mix trying to get a new start in life after never learning that whole "go get the duck in the freezing water' thing - so you could have knocked me over with a feather when I went out that morning and saw a line snaking all the way past the barn and almost down to Highway 23!!! And they were all willing to just "work for food!' I knew right then that this whole darn country is in a world of hurt. Heck, we had to slaughter 2 ewes and a ram after the wife made it plain that it would be 'bad manners' to let 'our guests' go hungry when they came all this way just to try for the job. It is just a shame that we can only hire one of the poor wretches" said the remorseful, soon-to-be ex-sheep farmer.

Century West Engineering Strikes AGAIN!!!!

In yet another bold attempt to drag the reluctant Town of Lamont kicking and screaming into the 19th century, the intrepid heroes at Century West Engineering succeeded once again in laying the necessary loan application groundwork so that the Town could receive a highly coveted and absolutely necessary planning grant for a proposed "Community Services Building". This grant, actually issued by the unsung heroes at the newly renamed "Department of Commerce" is part of the absolutely fantastic "Community Development Block Grant" (CDBG) program that is all that stands between survival and utter and complete chaos for many small towns! These grant monies, managed and shepherded by caring professionals who really care about maintaining small town infrastructure, are like manna falling from Heaven for towns like Lamont - if glorious biblical references can somehow be merged with State-sponsored infrastructure funding.

"Good gravy, man!!! We are one of the smallest towns in the continental United States but Century West Engineering treats us like we are really something special!" stammered the red-faced mayor with hardly disguised glee. "That great core team over there, including the omnipresent "Renaissance Man" Dennis Fuller and that amazingly subdued yet shockingly effective Bryan Hicks (you always have to watch out for the quiet ones!), just keep plugging away on our behalf - year after year... (and let's don't forget about that 'parrot-loving', highly efficient 'dynamo' Erika!)" he gushed. "I mean come on! Most engineering firms would have 'called it good' after getting Lamont that big water grant, and certainly would have eased back some after paving about 1/2 the town last year - but those 'Engineering Energizer Bunnies" at Century West just keep slogging away on our behalf - regardless of how dazed and confused we appear at all the modern conveniences they bring our way!" he effused... "In the last 5 years, Century West has almost single-handedly rebuilt this town's infrastructure from the ground up. We used to be known as 'that town with no houseplants' - because our drinking water was so bad - but now we have some of the best water in the State. And every summer our town looked like a mini 'Depression-era Kansas dust-bowl' when all we had were gravel roads (the fine folks at the TIB and Greg Partch are still at the pinnacle of the "Lamont Hall of Fame) - and now our 50+ year-old community building (with no bathroom!) is in the early planning stages of being torn down and replaced! (we hope!) Yikes... When will this madness stop?" he stammered, feverishly trying to figure out a 'less-than-obvious' way to somehow take all the credit for this wonderful work done by others, mainly Bryan Hicks, so that false praise and undeserved accolades will fall on him like so many flowers in a victory parade or something!

This wonderful planning grant will allow the Town to bring in professional architectural (and other yet unknown!) talent to develop a proposal to revamp the very way public services are supplied in the Town. Lamont, which currently does not have a library, will use these precious monies to successfully integrate new library facilities, a Town-sponsored sheriff's workspace, community meeting/training facilities and fire department resources into a cost effective and workable package that will serve the entire town and the surrounding area for the next 50+ years. And on top of all that, the Town of Lamont, for the first time, (if subsequent financing is received!) will have actual running water and restroom facilities in the public buildings of the Town. "Bathrooms, too??? Oh, you have got to be kidding me!!!" shouted the Mayor while reeling from the possibilities. "You mean we will be able to go to work for the Town AND use the restroom??? I must be dreaming!!!" he stammered... "I guess we will be able to drink coffee again - now that we won't have to leave the office and venture all the way across town every 15 minutes!!! Oh, will the wonders of Century West Engineering and the Department of Commerce (and CDBG) never cease???" (Note: Although almost unbelievable, the Lamont Town Hall does not now nor have they ever had a bathroom or running water. (What were our previous Town leaders thinking, for Pete's sake? I mean come on! What a 'no-brainer'! See what we have to overcome! Its mind-boggling!) With this new situation, should all the pieces fall together, we will have a handicapped-friendly work environment with all the modern facilities. That one addition (a bathroom), in and of itself, will do more to make the "Lamont experience" all the more enjoyable than any single thing we can imagine!)

Lamont Mayor Sparks Constitutional Crisis After Appointing New "Mini-Mayor"

In a shocking move that has constitutional scholars in Olympia running to the liquor store to buy huge bottles of cheap whisky and cartons of smokes (although smoking is supposedly not allowed in State buildings!), the lowly Mayor of Lamont turned the legal world on its head by introducing a new 'un-elected officer' within the town governing structure that is at best only vaguely referred to in the RCW's that govern the state - although most scholars agree that the Founders of the State never intended for towns to have genetic clones of their elected officials serving in any capacity whatsoever. "Good heavens, man!!!! Ain't one mayor like him enough?" said Wilber Bodine, a local farmer/rancher. "What sort of sin does this town carry that we should be cursed like this? Oh, this town has some serious repenting to do, that is for sure!! The Day of Judgment is at hand!!! Repent, you sinners... REPENT!!! " he bellowed before hysterically cowering after a brief thunderclap caused by a late fall weather front rumbled thru!

"Well, I just don't see what all the fuss is about" said the contrite yet determined Mayor. "With all those new reports that the Town has to do, it only makes sense to expand the workforce while still limiting the payroll!" said the shamelessly outrageous cheapskate! "Sure, a vast majority of the 'malcontents' and 'scoff-laws' in the Town refer to me as Hitler or Saddam or "Dr. Evil" and all of that, but name calling never helped get the work done, now did it?" he said annoyingly. "Having a genetic duplicate of myself can only help smooth matters over - plus he is smaller so he takes up less space and we can save on heating and cooling costs!" said the Mayor with only a hint of madness in his glazed, slightly out-of-focus eyes!!! "Plus, I can sneak him into the bushes to spy on informal council discussions to gather information vital to the Town!!! Heck, already I have thwarted an attempt that somehow involved State Mental Health professionals and a 'straight-jacket". With success like that, how can having a 'Mini-Mayor' be a bad thing?" he rambled disjointedly. "Plus, with all those grants that Century West Engineering keeps getting for the Town, someone has to oversee and manage the details of those projects, don't they? Why can't anyone besides me see the wisdom of my actions?" he concluded, as if responding to a voice that no one else could hear. When asked for comment, the Association of Washington Cities (AWC) spokesperson was reduced to mumbling something about the unfortunate irony of Lamont being in Washington and not in Oregon or Idaho and talking about bad luck and a "constant stone in their shoe" and how 'every parent has at least one bad child' or something like that - before she resorted to laying her head down on her desk to ward off a crushing migraine that looms right behind her eyes every time she hears the latest 'goings-on' in Lamont, WA - the 2nd smallest and least humble town in the Great State of Washington!!!!

Local Cat Plans Elaborate, Military-Style Ambush On That New Neighbor Cat

In a bold and provocative stratagem worthy of a West Point professor or experienced battlefield commander, a local cat, Roberta, age 4, placed the finishing touches on a diabolical plan that is almost guaranteed to solidify the neighborhood cat 'pecking order' and will certainly put that new 'upstart' cat in its place once and for all. The new cat, (which has 6 toes - making it more of a local oddity and source of suspicion!), a recent arrival to Lamont after her humans thankfully moved here from the county, is still getting used to the new smells and is learning the 'lay of the land' - so is thus unusually distracted and vulnerable to a surprise attack from an unknown quarter. "Well, I was going to check the mailbox when I saw Roberta pacing back and forth, measuring 'lines of sight' and distances and angles of the sun and that sort of thing" said a local man who asked to remain anonymous for his own personal safety. "At first I just assumed that she was hunting for an overfed, summer-fattened mole or ground squirrel or something, but it was not hard to recognize the systematic nature of her efforts and the almost scientific precision of her movements. I knew right then that the cat was up to no good! I just felt in my bones that there was going to be trouble!" he said wearily while glancing around nervously to make sure no prying ears (particularly pointy ones) were listening. Although no evidence exists that the actual ambush has taken place to date, area neighbors are bracing themselves and waiting pensively for all 'hell to break loose' at any moment and to see what sort of mettle this new cat will demonstrate once a battle-hardened Lamont cat springs out of the bushes to scare the 'living daylights' out of the thing and thus initiate the 'neophyte' to the "winner take all' world of local cat life!

Local Bad Speller Bags Limit On Opening Day of 2009 'Elf' Hunting Season

In one of those stories that can only happen in a small town in the Palouse, a local farmer/rancher, Tyrone 'Tubby' Festoon, age 51, set back man/elf relations by several decades after bagging his limit of the unfortunately colorful, boisterous, whimsical, light-hearted (not to mention fleet footed!) yet supposedly mythical, lore-inspired creatures, late Tuesday. "What??? You mean it ain't actually 'elf' season? Dang it, man!! I knew I should have stayed in school past the 8th grade! How was I to know that it wasn't legal to go blasting away at that colony of the 'little beggars' over in that fanciful little nook by the Bodine place? Sure, they ain't good eating or nothing - they are kind of stringy and rangy-tasting with way too many bones (although rumor has it that they taste considerably better when served with 'sugar-plums' and/or other mythical foods that no modern person has ever actually eaten!) - but the crafty critters are darn hard to get a good bead on - what with all that fairy dust and those lucky charms and all of that sort of nonsense flying thru the air once they get spooked" he expounded. "How was I to know that it wasn't legal to hunt them things? And what am I supposed to do with that new "Elf dog" I paid $450 for to that smooth-talking guy over there in Idaho? It ain't like you can retrain a specialized animal like that to retrieve a pheasant or whatever. Man, this just stinks...! And now I am sure I will have any number of elfin curses or pointy-eared hexes or whatever on me now, too! Like I need more of those!"

"Dang it, the doggone hunting laws in the State of Washington are just so dadburn confusing that they can't help but make honest citizens like myself into wanton criminals and virtual 'scoff-laws'! That just ain't right. I'm an American! And on top of all of that, I guess I can't count on that new '4-wheeler' from Santa this Christmas, either. I wonder if those pesky Palouse elves are related to them 'North Pole' ones. That's all I need - a blood feud with the global cabal of elves, with that renowned brawler and 'kung-fu master' Santa Claus thrown into the mix, too! I knew I should have listened to the wife and called that Kynda Browning from Tekoa before I went out this morning. She seems to know everything about everything when it comes to the Law - and she has a good, positive, helpful attitude, unlike some people I could mention!" he said, glaring regrettably at his physically menacing mother-in-law and her significantly younger (not to mention shockingly smaller) and decidedly subservient 'new boyfriend' (man-friend seems too much of a stretch, even in the most generous of moods!) who were looming/cowering, respectively, close by.

Feathers Fly At "Parrots For Peace" Headquarters After 'Did Nothing' Obama Shamelessly Wins Nobel Peace Prize

In what future historians will so ominously refer to as the "Caw heard round the world", the local headquarters of the prestigious "Parrots For Peace" activist group erupted into a melee of ear-splitting, tropical-sounding hysteria and a blizzard of shockingly vibrant and amazingly multi-hued feathers when it was announced, in spite of their many highly successful peace initiatives designed to heal the longstanding rifts between ranchers and their largely misunderstood and somewhat meddlesome coyote brothers, that the now discredited and totally bogus (dare one say 'bird-brained' given the topic?) Nobel Prize Committee insanely (and quite stupidly) gave their most coveted award to a new President who has done little for the 'cause of peace' other than disarm America and strive to be the 'National Nanny'.

"Oh, my ears! My ears!!! I'm deaf, I say!! What? I can't hear you! Speak up, you young whippersnapper!!!" said Festus Festoon, 63, a local rancher, who just so happened to be walking past the "Parrots For Peace" international headquarters on his way to borrow some chewing tobacco when the news was announced. "And what in tarnation are all these dadburn feathers doing all over me. I look like I am all set to go waltzing thru one of them 'ungodly' Mardi Gras parades down in New Orleans or something" he stammered, speaking about twice as loud as would normally be necessary. "I never did trust that Obama myself, but just because he got some rigged award that he never deserved in the first place doesn't mean that the whole dern town needs to go getting its feathers all ruffled and our beaks out of joint! he said blaringly. "What? Speak up, doggone it!! What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue, or something? All I can hear is this loud, drum-like "Cawing" ringing inside my head. Oh mercy! This just ain't right! Them birds need to show a little self-control. Nobody ever said that this world would be the proverbial 'tropical paradise'.. We all need to learn to take the good with the bad - the fair with the unfair. This life just ain't one big feeding dish of sunflower seeds hanging inside a roomy, solid gold cage with plenty of cool parrot toys and parrot-perches strewn all over the place, for Pete's sake!" he concluded with his usual level of profound understatement while shuffling his way to get a pinch of 'Chew", trailing amazingly brilliant feathers in his wake.

When asked for comment, the astoundingly efficient "Erika" of Century West Engineering fame could only shake her head and wander away, ominously mumbling something about "Tomorrow is another day" and "Hell hath no fury like a parrot scorned' or something to that effect.

Town Coffers Swell As Halloween-Related Noise Fines Come Pouring In

Plunging bravely into the cold unknown of one of the worst recessions in living memory, the lowly Town of Lamont is playing 'catch as catch can' and padding their already somewhat dubious financial reserves while so caringly increasing the overall quality of life within the Town itself. "Well, it isn't even Halloween yet and we have already noticed a dramatic spike in bizarre, frightening and decidedly 'other-worldly' noise complaints - pretty much when the moon began to get close to full, I guess" said the Mayor, shakily clutching his bottle of 'holy water' while adjusting his protective necklace of garlic cloves. "First, 'Old Man Snopes' called in babbling something about those ghastly, blood-curdling screams coming from the old apple orchard up on the hill. And then Thelma Festoon reported those guys in musty monk cowls with a bunch of black candles (and glowing red eyes!) making creepy chanting noises from the basement of the old, abandoned church (the back door lock is supposedly broken so any old satanic group or pagan rabble can just mosey on in there and do as they please, I guess, with the innocent town folk being none the wiser!) as they called up their so-called 'dark lord' or whatever it is that people like that are always 'summoning up' or 'calling forth' or whatever. (Post Publication Editorial Note: This is a parody on Halloween and not on any known church in the Continental United States, Hawaii or Alaska - so please don't call, write or flood the town with petitions and/or unholy grumblings and gossip. (as is the temptation, or so it would seem!) If you think this (or any article) applies to you and/or your organization, you just might have bigger problems than the lowly Lamont Blog - so it would appear to be prudent to devote your considerable energies there instead! (or go help widows and orphans which is its own reward!) Thank you!) And just last night we got three calls about that incessant wailing and grunting from the walking undead over by 6th and Spokane Streets. Man, at $50 a pop, things are looking rosy, indeed!! You should have seen the sheepish looks on the crumbling, decomposing faces of those inconsiderate and totally self-centered zombies when I so boldly leaped out of the bushes, ticket pad in hand, and put a sweet little $50 fine slip in their gray, sticky, almost fingerless hands! That took the wind right out of their undead sails, I can tell you!!!" said the jubilant Mayor with just a tad too much 'after-the-fact' bravado!

"Sure, we had a good year last year with all that late night chain rattling, the sickening, almost unbearable moaning from the Town's long dead mayors (and many that are still alive!) lamenting and gnashing teeth over my management style and generally progressive orientation; and we also made a 'pretty penny' from those guys from Arkansas or Missouri or wherever it was in 'skin masks' running around with chainsaws at all hours of the day or night trying to get ready for some 'sausage feed' or something. So, we are still several weeks away from the 31st and we have already had numerous reports of mortifying mummy mumblings, gruesome goblin gurgling, sadistic spirit shrieking, and the blood chilling howls of those ever-pesky man-beasts - those annoyingly obnoxious Palouse werewolves! (a distinct breed of werewolf unique to this region!) This noise situation is every Mayor's dream, for Pete's sake!!" he gushed! "And with 2 weeks left, we are certain to get a devil-inspired, gut-wrenching human sacrifice or two, have at least one graveyard pour forth its writhing, angry, 'envious-of-the-living' undead and we will almost certainly get a few complaints about this coven or that coven (Heaven knows we have more than a few - although most live outside town and ironically they all seem to hate the town Mayor with a devilish passion!) making too much noise as they haggle and bicker over their big, flame-licked iron pot, making the devil's gumbo or goulash or whatever it is that those people make when they are feeling naughty! And this is on top of all the noise fines we normally get from the farmers and ranchers because of their over-stressed digestive systems caused by a horrendously poor diet! That alone makes up almost 10% of our annual budget!" he said appreciatively. "Happy days are here again, at least in the 2nd smallest town in the State!!!! Lamont is just so blessed on so many levels. We have so much to be thankful for!" he concluded while 'crossing himself' and throwing salt over his shoulder while spitting three times to ward off the 'evil eye'.

Lamont's New Hero, Kynda Browning, Gets Big, Fancy Article In County Paper - Town Happy Although Somewhat Envious

One of the most capable and multi-faceted individuals ever to grace small town government in North America, Kynda Browning, the Clerk/Treasurer of Tekoa (and other fortunate towns!), got some big, elaborate, multi-dimensional 'write-up' in the Colfax paper last week - thus drawing attention to many of her other (obviously quite numerous and shockingly diverse!!) forms of excellence that, unfortunately for us, fall outside the scope of Lamont and thus diminish the reflected glory that the Town derives from our newly budding association with her. Kynda, known in Lamont circles as 'Every mosquito's worst nightmare!!', was instrumental in devising the mosquito busting solution that made Lamont largely enjoyable in the summertime - and many within the Town seem more comfortable with the concept of her tremendous energies and capabilities being only recognized as they pertain to the shockingly self-absorbed Lamont. Kynda, who works her magic in numerous small towns in the Palouse, also makes one mean chicken pie (according to the article - although no one in town has ever sat down to tear into an obscenely huge and piping hot portion of it! hint, hint!!!) and is well rounded in an annoyingly large number of areas.

"Well, it goes without saying that we are happy for her, I guess" said the Mayor while dejectedly kicking his toe in the dirt. "We have known for some time that Kynda was something special, and I guess everyone else knows that now, too" he pouted. "I mean, Lamont has so few really fantastic things that it can call its own - and I guess we just cherished our professional working relationship with her all the more because she was 'our little secret'. Now the whole dern county knows about her!" he fumed. "I know it seems small-minded and petty to want something just to ourselves - you know - something that we can hold up as being ours alone, (which is stunningly irrational in and of itself given that she works for other towns and that is how we met her in the first place!), but doggone it, it just hurts somehow" he sniffed. "It is like our special little bird (insert mental image of above referenced 'little bird'!) is flying from our humble little nest! We are happy and proud to see her soar in the heavens and all, but she will never be just 'our little secret' again!" he blathered melodramatically, while shaking his fist in the general direction of Colfax. "The whole darn county is in on the act now! I guess this was always destined to happen, but somehow that does not ease the sense of loss any!" he sniveled. "Why can't Lamont have just one good thing (besides our drinking water and great new roads, courtesy of the USDA-RD, CDBG, TIB, and Century West Engineering!) that is ours and ours alone?" he groused pathetically. "But at least we can pat ourselves on the back for our professional associations! No one can take that away from us, doggone it!" he whined optimistically!

Local Farmers Resort To Using Hillary Clinton In Last Ditch Effort To Win War On Noxious Weeds

In a shocking escalation in the ongoing war between man and the hoards of weeds that plague the Palouse, local agricultural professionals had no choice but to go 'nuclear' in an effort to end their seemingly hopeless struggle against their nemesis - those dadburn, dern-near-indestructible, good-for-nothing, (not-to-mention-pesky!) 'weeds'. "Well, I never thought I would willingly invite any Democrat, let alone the worst of the bunch, the Queen Bee herself, Hillary Clinton, onto my land - but desperate times require desperate measures, I guess" said Stumpy Snopes, 57, a local farmer/rancher. "Year after year we funneled untold millions into the coffers of the 'Herbicide Industrial Complex' and it seems like all we ever got was stronger, more surly weeds the following year. So we would up the dosage and/or go to the much touted 'new and improved' herbicides - and for what?" he said despairingly. "We have weeds now that my father would never have recognized - like they have been taking steroids and lifting weights or something. Half the time I am afraid to go out into my fields alone - and I have a pretty good idea what has been happening to all those cattle that have disappeared! It has just gotten out of control so we had to do something drastic. Lord knows we all hoped that it would never have had to come to this!!" said Snopes. "And my poor daddy is turning over in his grave right now because Hillary is coming to the 'Stinky R Ranch'! I just hope he understands!"

The farmers and ranchers in and around Lamont have pooled their resources and agreed to hire Mrs. Clinton in this desperate (some would say suicidally insane!) effort that could very well determine the actual survival of the farms and ranches in the area. Mrs. Clinton, a recent failure in the presidential primary contest (after being bitten on the hand by the media dog that she fed so lovingly for all those years!), has plenty of time on her hands - and does not seem to have been above taking money for her so-called 'expertise' (if scandalous rumors are to be believed!) outside of her role in Government (we won't even mention her husband!). Although contractual details are still fuzzy, it appears that Mrs. Clinton has agreed to be strapped to the back of a tractor and driven back and forth over the fields and pastures of the Palouse, screeching and making facial gestures at the weeds. "Well, I watched those presidential debates and I could not get out of bed for a week! It was like the very life itself was sucked right out of me!" said Festus Bodine, a local rancher. "Those weeds don't stand a chance! I almost feel sorry for them. Does any living thing deserve that kind of treatment? But it is an 'us versus them' thing now - survival of the fittest - and if we have the 'Clinton Option', it would be foolish not to use it, regardless of how 'off-putting' it is to our civilized natures." he said pathetically.

Although this will cost extra (details are in a secret contract addendum), in particularly tough weed areas, Mrs. Clinton will be paid a premium to recount how "She ain't going to be staying home baking no cookies for her man!!" which has been proven to be unusually effective against all known life forms. (farmers/ranchers were advised to wear protective 'Reagan Halloween masks' and '3-piece suits' to ward off the ill effects during (and for several hours after!) the Hillary treatment application - although no one is sure how effective these deterrent measures will actually be!!) "Well, I just don't know about tampering with nature like this" said Martin "Peanut' Festoon, 63, a local farmer. "This whole dern plan could very well backfire on us. Once those weeds are exposed to such an unpleasant stimulus, there is no telling what might happen. This whole thing might just spin out of control and we could end up in an even worse place than we are now. Is that a risk we want to take, for Pete's sake???" he mumbled gravely. "Good gravy, man! We could be orchestrating the very end of civilization as we know it!!!"

Local "Parrots For Peace" Activist Decries Annual "Slaughter Of The Wheat" Ritual As Barbaric

In a bold stand against man's callousness towards Nature in general and all living things within a 10 mile radius (as the crow flies, if you will) in particular, a local spokesman for an internationally famous 'voice for the underdog' threw caution to the wind late Tuesday by drawing attention to the long overlooked and decidedly barbaric practice of the slaughter of 'living things' that are just minding their own business, not hurting anybody - and just doing what wheat is supposed to do - grow in a semi-arid environment not suited for many other (non-weed) plants where obscenely cold weather and infrequent rainfall are actually positive growth factors. Although taking time out from his busy schedule of teaching young birds various unsavory and 'naughty' words (in several languages!) that he picked up during a brief trip to the Mexican border region several years ago, the parrot expressed the outrage of many at the wanton destruction of such a seemingly peaceful member of the ecosystem - a humble member of the grass family - wheat.

"Well, if the 20th century taught us anything, it is that if we look the other way while the highly subjective 'least desirable' or arbitrarily determined 'unworthy' of us are allowed to be mowed down by the cold efficiency of a technological juggernaut run amok, then eventually our turn will come around in due time" said a certain 'Erika', a local efficiency expert and Jewish bread maker of some renown. "I am not sure the "Parrots For Peace" folks would be as upset if people just wandered aimlessly thru the fields, gathering as much as they could carry like was the norm in biblical times, but the introduction of the 'machinery of mass destruction' somehow seems inhuman and all too 'industrial' to them, I guess" she said. "And as anyone who has ever been around a parrot with a 'bee in their bonnet' will attest, it is often just easier to acquiesce to their demands than having them shrilly blurt out their protests at all hours of the day or night, for Pete's sake!!!" she said pleadingly. "Plus, it is every parrot's fantasy to break free of their earthly confines and commune with nature - and what better place to do this than in 1000's of acres of a virtually endless food supply with few if any genuine predators that amount to anything, when you get right down to it! So, on some level, I guess it is selfish on their part - but try explaining that to an agitated, squawking, and absurdly self-righteous parrot! Believe me, it is just better to do as they say!! Plus, my regionally famous 'Jewish Bread' recipe calls for barley and oat flour (historical staples of the Holy Land)- so what is a little less wheat in the big scheme of things?" she mused resignedly.