Paper Towel Roll Saves Area Woman After Peeved Parrot Goes On Rampage Over Last Remaining Peanut (based on a true story!)

A mysterious and as yet unnamed area woman (whose demographic profile is shockingly similar to Erika of Century West Engineering fame!) was actually threatened with attack and literally chased into a corner of her spacious, semi-tropical, Spokane-area abode by a surly Moluccan Cockatoo (Cacatua moluccensis) early Saturday, after basic parrot protocols were not observed and the lone remaining peanut (still in the shell) was offered to another parrot with less social standing and prestige within the flock or gaggle or herd or whatever it is that parrots are called when they group together. Tensions, having simmered throughout the day, reached near boiling point several times, most notably after the unfortunate 'parrot patron' served the cranky cockatoo a combined dish of diced fruits and vegetables while every civilized person with 'half a lick of sense' knows that that discerning breed of bird prefers to be served those delicacies separately (on separate plates!) fruit first, if you please. "Well, when this all started brewing, I had become annoyed with him following me around, nipping at my heels and making one heck of a racket for no apparent reason!" said Erika - Ah, I mean 'the unnamed parrot owner'. (parrots, like elephants, are known to hold a grudge - and have very, very long memories - especially on matters of pride and social standing - and yes, ironically - both have a thing for peanuts)

"Sure, although I work with engineers all day long and should have built up a seemingly limitless tolerance by now, even my Herculean patience can come to an end at some point, so it was high time for him to go to his cage for a little 'time-out!' So away we went and up the door he climbed. (somewhat reluctantly, it must be noted!) Well, it was at this point that I made the unspeakable blunder and leaned over to give another parrot in the same cage the last peanut in the house. (Where is PETA when you need them! How awful!) Upon seeing this, the crazed cockatoo leaped off his door and attached himself firmly to my upper torso, wings flapping to beat all I ever saw! Well, after a spontaneous (and shockingly robust!) stream of decidedly salty words spewed forth from my somewhat reluctant and largely unaccustomed lips (being a family friendly blog, we dare not repeat them here - although rumor has it that every navy in the world stood up and took notice of this shockingly admirable display of 'oath-oriented' wordsmithery - the likes of which has not been seen since Blackbeard sailed the Seven Seas!), I gently smacked him on his little bird tushy (with the handy, above-referenced (and padded!) 'paper towel roll'!) and he promptly although somewhat reluctantly disengaged from the general area of my jugular and dropped gracefully to the floor, bellowing (in true mother-in-law-like fashion!) with righteous outrage and indignation" said the paramour of Parrotdom! "Well, being granted this seemingly Heaven-sent reprieve, I allowed my guard to drop for the briefest of instances - only to have the winged hellion leap up at me with eyes blazing and wings spread in order to herd me cowering into the corner of the room where he could hopefully finish me off! Thankfully, I was still feebly clutching at what was left of the roll of paper towels (always kept handy for cleaning up 'certain messes' - you know how those parrots are - no sense of aim or direction! Almost as bad as the average husband!) to defend my person with. I am not sure I ever felt so alone and vulnerable! I have always been loyal to Bounty Paper Towels, although, in moments of weakness, I have been known to buy an off-brand from time to time!" she admitted disjointedly, somehow losing the gist of the subject entirely!! (at least the interesting parts!)

So, after a brief self-examination to make sure that the hapless human victim of peanut-rage was still 'corpus-intactus' and disingenuously threatening the little devil with another 'half-hearted spanking' with the now-bent roll of paper towels, and croaking out any number of hoarse, feeble-sounding 'NO, NO, NO's!!', the "Maid-Marion-Like Damsel-in-Distress' was able to reassert her somewhat shaken (most would say decidedly tarnished!) 'alpha status' and was able to get the angry aviary back into his cage. (much to the horrified chagrin of the poor, innocent, minding-his-own-business parrot in the same cage that got handed the last, cursed peanut only several startling seconds before!) "Well, it was only after I got the brooding beast back in his cage that I then noticed his untouched food and realized why the berserk buzzard was so upset with me!" she said with genuine regret and guilt while wiping away a tear! "I mean, how could I try to give him veggies and fruits all mixed together? How did I forget that he likes his fruit and veggies separate and not just dumped 'any old way' in his pellet dish? (Editorial Note: I mean come on, what a rookie mistake! Even the average Lamont dog owner never known for their animal insights knows that much about the mercurial dietary preferences of the Moluccan Cockatoo!!) So, once I fixed the little food presentation problem all was well in Parrot-Land again and peace reigned in the house (for about 15 minutes, given that more than a dozen parrots reside there - and rumors about the 'last peanut incident' spread quickly amongst the shameless, feathered gossips!!) - although the unfortunate parrot who received (and eagerly ate!) the last peanut in the house had to endure the 'stink-eye' from the crazy and still brooding cockatoo, and was forced to walk on eggshells for several hours after the woman/bird altercation concluded! Thankfully for everyone involved, no further disturbances were reported at that address until right about dinnertime, that is - since no one bothered to drive in the snow to pick up more peanuts from Pets-Mart, for goodness sake! The lowly Lamont Blog once again proves that truth can indeed be stranger than fiction! (especially if there is a parrot in the mix, doggone it!) (Note: Any reference to 'salty language' or 'pirate-like parlance' was for dramatic literary effect and color only and is not necessarily representative of actual events! Plus, one has to be careful what one says around a parrot, for Pete's sake! The little monsters just love to repeat things, don't they just?)

Lamont Time Capsule: Remembering The Town Water System Before Century West Engineering

As we all know, change is hard for some people, and this is particularly true in small town America where the cherished traditions from our past are looked upon with the reverence and comfort that only the ages can convey. The old Lamont water system, built by a vanished cabal of enterprising 'go-getters' in our murky, distant past (any date before 1950!), was recently replaced by the taxpayers of this great nation (USDA-RD, CDBG, Dept of Commerce, etc!) under the stern and exacting eye of a new breed of enlightened and enterprising builders - an advanced breed of men and women known as "Century West Engineering" from the far-flung distant land of Spokane Valley. (Spokane and Spokane Valley - the Lamont equivalent of Babylon or whatever - is where myths and rumors abound regarding giants and wizards and highly efficient women who raise/rescue parrots and all of that and where people have never even raised a cow from a calf (yes, they do exist!) - although the stately Lamont Blog as a media outlet prefers to stick to the cold, hard facts and shies away from mindless superstition and primitive 'mumbo-jumbo', however, thank you very much - although we do tend to spit 3 times and throw salt over our shoulder anytime we get a nasty hate mail letter!) (which, sadly, is not that rare of an occurrence these days, especially from the locals!)

The old water system, built with stone tools out of the very bedrock of the earth itself, used gravity to funnel the fickle liquid from some far-off mountain redoubt where it could water the lawns and gardens of the 2nd smallest Town in the State. In contrast, the new water system relies on space age materials like 'metal' and 'PVC' and, although basically a gravity-fed system, incorporates the almost magical and somewhat suspect properties of a new-fangled invention (electricity!) to bring the water out of the very ground itself. (yes, that is hard to believe but true!) "Well, I don't understand any of it, that goes without saying, its all some strange 'voodoo' to me, but I am just thankful that we no longer have to declare war on Adams County (not to mention Sprague!) every couple of years in order to capture prisoners so that we can employ their somewhat forced labor to maintain the miles and miles of aqueduct just so I can get a sip of water, doggone it!" said the perplexed yet relieved Mayor to no one in particular. "Lamont is largely a peace loving town, so mindless conquest and martial prowess run counter to our peaceful (and lazy!) natures, as you know!"

"Sure, now we have to learn to read 'gauges' and 'read-outs' and all of that Star Trek sort of thing, but at least I no longer have to get up at the crack of dawn and drive my chariot to some far-off locale (fake plastic bullwhip in hand - wearing a fetching toga, of course!) to make sure those 'prisoners-of-war' are maintaining the doggone thing" he stammered. "I ain't sure how they did it, but let me tell you, Century West Engineering knows how to make a Mayor happy! Now if they could just help us figure out that whole "Solar calendar thing" so we could calculate the time and the date, then we could bring a whole new level of order and prosperity to Lamont. (And so that we could plant our wheat at the right time of the year, every year - and not just whenever the fancy strikes us!) (Note: The Bodine Clan prefers to plant in mid-winter when the soil is harder than concrete - yet the Snopes Clan only plant in mid-summer when it is over 100 degrees and won't rain until well into the Autumn! Somehow there has to be a happy medium if we could only figure it out, for Pete's sake!!) But one thing at a time. We don't like to rush into things here, as you know - and our current use of the somewhat clunky lunar calendar ain't that bad, really! I just wish 29.53 days divided evenly into 365.24 days, that's all!"

Town Streetlight Out For Over 2 Years But No One Bothered To Tell The Mayor

In a darkness-related metaphor that is shocking in its comprehensiveness, a critical streetlight at a key intersection in the Town has been 'non-operational' for over two years, yet no one bothered to tell the one individual who can get those sort of things repaired, doggone it! A majority of the townsfolk, obviously disconnected on almost every level from the bustling metropolis where they reside and own property, apparently feel that some 'all-knowing and all-seeing eye' exists to make their lives function smoothly and feel no compunction whatsoever to participate in the civic/infrastructure life of Lamont - even at the most rudimentary of levels. "Well, the offending streetlight is in a part of town that, thru form and practice, I just never get around to after nightfall, for some reason" said the puzzled Mayor who admits to a certain level of 'nyctophobia' - or 'fear of the dark'. (we won't even mention his crushing levels of bovine-o-phobia or the troubling and as yet unnamed fear of big burly women who once served in the Navy!) "So, when I heard that a certain stretch of road was 'particularly dark and scary", I ventured down there (in broad daylight, of course, the coward!) and realized that: A) It was potentially dark and scary. B) There was indeed an actual streetlight present. Given that this was during the day, I made a mental note to see if the light came on and to determine if this was indeed a real crisis or just some manufactured 'situation' that the citizens come up with from time to time to have someplace to hang their 'town-hating' hats on" he said wearily. "But in this case we did indeed have a problem so I threw the full weight and prestige of the "Office of Mayor" into getting the problem resolved - with all due dispatch, needless to say" he said.

"After contacting the proper authorities about the troublesome illumination device, and with my curiosity now being peaked, I made any number of discrete and clandestine neighborhood inquiries, of course - and much to my horror, a vast majority of the interviewees had never noticed that the Town even had a streetlight there - and the ones that did in fact know that a big, shiny, 30-foot-tall aluminum pole with an over-sized light protruding at right angles from the top of it (standing all by itself right by the sidewalk, plain as day, for goodness sake!) was situated at that intersection - these observant and eagle-eyed souls reported that it had been out for what consensus agreed was "several years, at least!" said the amazed and saddened public servant. (there was even a 'Lost Cat' flyer on the pole itself - placed there by one of the families that "didn't know the streetlight was even there"!) When asked why they did not report this outage, the universal responses (from the observant minority!) were to the effect of 'I thought someone else would call' or 'doesn't the Town have someone who checks that sort of thing?' (Lamont has one salaried part-time employee, for Pete's sake!) So, the Mayor, being at a loss as to how to get citizens involved in the basic functioning of the Town - at least as it pertains to their own personal safety and comfort, has vowed to make 'commando type' sorties under the cover of darkness (if some intrepid soul agrees to go with him! Preferably someone beefy and slow-of-foot yet manifestly skilled in the martial arts!) to see if there is indeed light shining into the darkness of the 2nd smallest (and one of the best lit - when our streetlights work!) towns in the Great State of Washington.

Town Of Lamont Hits 'The Big Time' After A Brief Yet Memorable "Wiener-Mobile" Visit

In what is a fulfillment of every small town's seemingly impossible dream, the Town of Lamont is bursting with pride after a 'mobile delivery vehicle' (MDV) for a famous hotdog manufacturer developed a flat tire and was forced to spend almost 27 minutes in the 2nd smallest town in the State, late Tuesday. The so-called 'wiener mobile', manned with a daring crew of 2 (one a 'Vehicle Operations Technician' and the other a "Hotdog Delivery Engineer") immediately piled out of the space-age-like vehicle and hurried to change the tire that had somehow run over a piece of barbed wire or something. "Well, when I looked out the window and saw that dern thing, I immediately assumed that those pesky aliens had invaded the earth again and I hollered to my husband Bert to run and get his squirrel gun so he could defend my honor as a fine example of one alluring 'Earth woman' at the peak of her charms" said Thelma Festoon, 62, a less-than-charming area farm wife and outrageous gossip/troublemaker. "By the time my good-for-nothing husband was finally able to drag his largely-worthless (and overly large!) carcass off the couch in order to face those space aliens 'mano-a-mano" or whatever that expression is when you are fighting a cantankerous space invader hellbent on global destruction - a rabble of citizens (including Flem Snopes, Festus Bodine, Prentiss Festoon, Rebecca Blat and Jeb Jarvish) had gathered around the 'other worldly craft' and were grunting and making feeble hand gestures at the dumb-founded 'astronauts' or whatever they were - like it was just an everyday thing! (that highly efficient Erika of Century West Engineering fame with that infernal, too-smart-by-half, know-it-all African Grey Parrot on her shoulder was also 'on scene' trying vainly to wrest order out of the chaos, but eventually just wandered away, despairing over cultural disunity in general - regardless of its worldly origins!) It was all very bizarre and kind of disappointing, really. I ain't seem my husband (whose nickname is 'Killer'!) in a good scrap since we were in high school - and even then he got his rear-end whooped but good - and by a girl, no-less!" she said gleefully and with only a tinge of residual shame.

After greeting the local lifeforms wearily (and enduring what to them had to seem like that 'bar scene' from the 1st Star Wars movie!) and quickly changing the tire (with no assistance from the 'work-shy' townsfolk whatsoever, needless to say) the 'visitors' made a brief yet doomed attempt to sell a few of the obviously enticing sausage-like delicacies from beyond the solar system, but given that Lamont is one of the cheapest towns in North America (and there was no small amount of confusion over currency conversion rates with a foreign world - given that that involves the use of math!) not a single hotdog was sold and the weary yet relieved travelers cheerfully drove off down the road to "destinations unknown' (no doubt mumbling numerous prayers to whatever pagan deities they worship in their far-flung galaxy!) and vowed to have the remaining tires checked after returning to their "Mother Ship" so that frightening and 'other-worldly' incidents like this do not occur again anytime soon - given that this 'hotdog gig' is just a temporary job to help pay for college, for Pete's sake, and is not worth this kind of culture shock! (Editorial Note: That so-called 'wiener mobile' was quite impressive looking on Lamont's new roads - courtesy of the TIB and Century West Engineering! Much better in fact than those flatbed pickup trucks that seem to be all the rage now - for whatever reason.)

Local Mayor Regrets Offering Surplus 'Hubba-Bubba" To Council Meeting Spectators

In an all too telling example of bad manners bearing a bitter harvest, a local Mayor was taught any number of valuable lessons (that he should have learned in the 3rd grade!!) about the importance of sharing and the inevitable pitfalls of having something that others do not have and about being thoughtless in one's own personal habits as they relate to those around us in an august, staid, and solemn setting like a classroom or a Lamont Town Council meeting. "Well, as I came sauntering into the Town Hall a few minutes before the meeting start time, I guess my mind was on the weighty burdens of leadership and the stark realities of our somewhat tattered democratic institutions so I must have forgotten to spit my gum out before sitting down to call the meeting to order" said the deeply moved and contrite Mayor. "Well, as luck would have it, in the audience was one of our overly 'school marmish' citizens who, I am sure, was a terror to young school children for any number of decades (at least 6 or 7!), and when she saw me so demurely smacking my gum, she immediately piped up with a "Well, Mr. Mayor. If it is okay for you to chew gum, then I presume that you have brought enough for the rest of the class!" (darn her beady little eyes!).

"So, feeling my oats (and sporting a new 30 pack of my favorite bubble gum), I immediately whipped it out of my pocket with a flourish (after a brief dramatic pause that had the audience panting with anticipation!) and said "Why yes, madam, indeed I did!" and proceeded to distribute the precious cargo amongst a segment of the obviously ravenous rabble that so often frequent our monthly Town meetings" he said smugly. (sadly, the Town meetings are the only 'blood sport' in Lamont - and the blood thirsty miscreants, of which Lamont is not lacking in number, flock to it in droves like it was a bare-knuckles prize fight or a cage match or something). "And before I could even get to the 'Mayor's Report' the whole room was filled with the festive aroma of that special 'Hubba-Bubba' watermelon flavor (at least that was somewhat of an improvement!) and my senses were being overloaded with the loud din of smacking and popping and my eyes were drawn to an endless sea of bubbles rising and falling with no identifiable pattern. It was all very disconcerting!" he whined despairingly. "So, I guess I learned my lesson, after all. In the future I will have to somehow misinform the school-marmish biddy on the date and time of future council meetings! (or try to get the battle ax interested in the school board or something!). Sure, this will take time and effort on my part, but come on, being a Mayor has to have some prerogatives, doggone it!!! he bellowed with somewhat overblown self-righteous indignation before sauntering off to stuff the last of the water meters for winter and to pick up any loose trash (including gum wrappers!) blowing around in the park.

The Expression "You're Preaching To The Choir" Causes Area Pastor To Rethink Basic Priorities

In a bold stand against the shocking laxness in the modern use of language, an area pastor (not from any church in Lamont, thank goodness!) Simeon 'Skeeter' Potash III (of the somewhat notorious Potash clan), laid the full force of his ecclesiastical powers in opposition to a too-often used and sometimes confusing expression that has crept into almost every segment of modern society - often to the detriment of all!! "Well, I was commenting on the offensive shortcomings of the Seattle Seahawks 3rd down conversion strategy to a football buddy of mine (yes, it would seem that even pastors do indeed have friends like other people do) when out of the blue he just blurted out "You're preaching to the choir, Skeeter, you're preaching to the choir'" said the perturbed paragon of purported pastoral piety. "When I heard him say that, my first thought was "Hey, you are not even in the choir" (or maybe he had just joined and didn't tell me - but no, I have heard him sing, unfortunately!) and then it dawned on me that not only does he not even go to my church (which suddenly struck him as odd - come to think of it), but he has not darkened the door of a church since his daughter got married for the 3rd time to that used car salesman from Northern Idaho. (and then it was under protest!) And what am I doing spending Sunday afternoon (usually from 12:30-ish until the 'little woman' finally gets a late dinner on the table - sometime around 6:00 PM, bless her sweet domestic heart) watching football (or baseball, hockey, golf, etc - depending on the season) with my friends when there are widows and orphans to help and human beings crying in the wilderness? I just lost track of my priorities somehow. That whole 'choir thing' was kind of a real eye-opener for me, I guess" said the prodigious pulpit-pounder before finally settling himself back down on the sofa and diving into the remains of the corn chip bag (sadly, the jalapeno bean dip was long gone at this point!) since the Seahawks were only down by 4 points and were driving at the opponents 34 yard line with 1:22 left in the game (with all 3 time-outs left, too!) and - besides, these 'spiritual/relationship' considerations can be dealt with during the post-game show - assuming no other really good sporting events were on another channel, that is. But this will be the last Sunday for frivolous, 'Roman Circus-like' entertainment for awhile, he vowed.

Shellie Courneya, Lamont's Good Luck Charm, Becomes Newest And Coolest Town Councilperson While Town Gets New Planning Grant!

In what only the overly-skeptical and/or ill-informed would term a coincidence (or to use the local parlance "co-winky-dink') or random occurrence, the Town of Lamont received a major boost this week when Shellie Courneya, one of the smartest and most capable citizens (in a Town not universally renowned for such traits - contrary to our own self-perception) was 'sworn in' on the Council and was thus able to participate in the new 'Community Services Grant' acceptance procedure that the Town was finally able to conduct - after more than a dozen years of trying by various outside individuals and organizations - although the Town (with Century West Engineering doing most of the heavy lifting!!) was successful in the first cycle, not that we are bragging or nothing! HA! It is sweet, though! (we all recognize that all good gifts come from the Lord and He has been unusually generous with this little Town in the Palouse!)

"Well, let's just say that Shellie is a very welcome addition to the Town's governing team" said the visibly relieved and obviously jubilant Mayor with outrageous levels of understatement and verbal 'down-play'. "The key to any town's success is having a Council that can grab their rear-ends with both hands (shockingly, 72% of town Councils in WA fail this simple test, however! - and the failure rate in Idaho and Oregon is (tragically) well over 90%!) - and Lamont has been blessed and continues to be blessed in this regard." (With only 100 people, if you subtract the kids, the felons, the non-voters and the ones universally understood to be electable only after 'hell freezes over' - then Lamont is truly blessed to have such a robust talent pool on the Council!) "Anyway!!" (Yes, that was another shameless plug from the Lamont blog!)

"We have had our eye on Shellie for many years and were finally able to convince her to serve (thru a rare mixture of impassioned pleading; shameless, tear-filled begging; shockingly complex and nuanced guilt mechanisms; and stalwart, passionate calls laced with patriotic fervor not seen since the start of WWII!) and the Town is now set to thrive and survive a little while longer. (Side note: In fact, none of these largely embarrassing, Mayor-inspired, emotional gyrations had the least effect on her - she just has a generous heart and 'can-do' spirit and is just the sort of person to step up when her neighbors need her!) We are just so darned tickled pink, and how!" he gushed, mangling the English language in general and basic sentence structure in particular! "The very fact that fine citizens like Shellie will step up to serve a cause greater than themselves, just for the good of it, with no desire for personal enrichment or fame, says volumes about this great nation in general and the 2nd smallest Town in the State in particular. Things just might work out okay in the 'Good Old USA', after all! We have to start somewhere, don't we?' he sniffed, wiping away a tear of hope and relief before blowing his nose in a red, white and blue hanky given to him by Ronald Reagan's brother-in-law or something - thus making it one of the Town's most cherished patriotic relics along with a 'big stick' once carried by Teddy Roosevelt (it is still unknown if he was 'walking softly' at the time he carried it, however!)

Shellie, when she is not saving small towns from the greedy clutches of chaos and mayhem, is also a much loved "Jack-of-all-trades' at the well-above average Lamont Middle School where she applies her quite considerable talents to preparing regionally renowned school meals (the shameless gluttons, I mean eager-to-learn students, cannot get enough of her quite remarkable cooking and often lament moving to the area High School because her food is so darn good!) (on several occasions the Town has had to put down fermenting, advancement-related rebellions by rampaging students - although, ironically, there has never been a hint of a protest hunger strike at the Lamont Middle School - which says volumes about how smart our kids are!)

BIAS Accounting Software Wins Lamont's Coveted "Even The Mayor Can Use It' Award

In a testament to user friendliness and excellent, streamlined and intuitive design and functionality, the Town's official accounting software package, BIAS of Spokane, drew gasps of surprise and stunned, awe-inspired head-shakes from a seasoned cabal of grizzled, jaded, decidedly-worldly 'software development insiders' (who have been around the block a few times and have seen it all, let me tell you!) when word leaked out that even the Mayor of Lamont was able to logon and produce a report without a Clerk/Treasurer being within earshot. "Well, we knew our software was good, we just didn't realize how good, I guess" said an unnamed BIAS spokesperson. "Sure, our software is designed specifically for municipal-type governments and is tailored to the unique requirements of the great State of Washington, but all that is just the form and function of the thing. The really hard part that challenges software design teams is not only putting in the functionality needed by our users - but also designing the workflow processes in such a way that a wide range of skill levels can utilize these capabilities. So, when word leaked out thru the Association of Software Design Engineers, our national guild, that even the Mayor of Lamont was able to print a report, we knew right then that we had pretty much expanded its functional range enough to include the broadest possible set of users!!" he gushed!. (Editorial Note: This last part is basically code wording for "Holy Guacamole!!! If that Mayor can use our software successfully, then we must have indeed done something really extraordinary here, for Pete's sake!") In fact, although a gaggle of old, crotchety, near-blind chimps has a much higher statistical probability of successfully using any given software package, the very fact that this self professed 'technological laggard' and 'pen and pencil man' was able to even get past the initial 'logon screen' that requires a password and then climb the 'Mount Everest' of all new software challenges - finding the report and then hitting the print button, is testament enough to the excellence of the BIAS Software product offering.

"Well, it was touch and go there for a while" said the Mayor, exhibiting the early signs of PTSD (Post Traumatic Software Disorder). "When I so casually yet boldly sauntered up to the computer (in fact, he circled his nemesis wearily like an aging bullfighter on the shady side of a less than distinguished career - taking the measure of a youthful and unusually cantankerous and spirited bull) and began the process of gathering the much needed data (after several dramatic moments of deep and pious reflection - or was it indeed prayer?), while buckets of sweat were pouring off of me and those voices in my head had reached a shrieking, feverish crescendo! But this information was so important (and the report it was needed for was so late, doggone it!) that I had no choice but to just 'soldier on' bravely, stiff upper lip and all of that. And before I knew it, and after only one support call to the very helpful (and patient!) BIAS Support Desk, (They are worth every cent!) I had that sweet little water usage report in my hot little hand and I was doing the "Rump Shaker" all over the office. (Editorial Note: The so-called 'Rump Shaker' is what one might call 'a dance' (if one uses the term loosely!) that is too horrific and potentially life damaging to discuss, (let alone witness!!) so is thus not supported, sanctioned or encouraged in the pages of the folksy, family-oriented and shockingly modest Lamont Blog). So, after this stunning success, the Mayor, flushed and pink-cheeked from his quite unexpected victory, has every intention of attempting another seemingly impossible and 'devil-may-care' feat next week - faxing a document to an actual fax machine - assuming fax machines are still in use outside the 2nd smallest town in the State - given that Lamont tends to be several generations (at least!) behind the times in terms of technology, except when it comes to our choice of a 'world-class', cutting-edge, totally-easy-to-use accounting software package, that is.

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.

Rancher Scientists & Theoreticians Contemplate Metaphysical Possibilities Of A "One Cow Herd"

Stretching the very social and philosophical fabric of the Palouse itself, an esoteric team of local researchers is exploring the farthest reaches of the time tested and often-overused concept of 'the herd' and is attempting to expand the very frontiers of ranching and ranch life as we now know it. With recent discoveries related to DNA and the unlimited possibilities, both past and future, contained within the genetic make-up of any given cow, the question arises - do you indeed need more than one cow to make up a group, or herd, if you will - or does the DNA coding potential inherent in all cows make this distinction meaningless and outdated - a figment of our past where 'more meant better' in an absolute sense. "Oh, for Pete's sake! What in 'tarnation' are they talking about and why am I being forced to listen to this drivel?" bellowed Jed Bodine, 56, a local rancher, while glaring menacingly at his wife who dragged him to the 'intellectual event' to 'broaden his horizons a little'. "If you have one cow - that is called 'a cow'. If you have 2 cows that is called a 'couple of cows'. If you have 3-7 cows - that can be called 'several cows' or maybe a 'starter herd'. Any grouping of more than 7 cows can safely be called a dadburn herd!" he said, making way too many hand gestures to prove his point. "Now, granted, some people will argue over the actual size of a 'real herd' - or a 'worthy herd' - and general agreement seems to indicate that you cannot get a reserved pew in the local cow church unless you have over 500 head of cattle, but any grouping of over 7 cows is, by definition, a herd. End of subject!" he stammered. "How much do you want to bet our tax dollars are funding this nonsense? That money would be much better spent on farm subsidies where farmers get paid for not growing crops. At least that would do some good for society - in these parts, anyway!" he concluded indignantly, drawing enthusiastic 'head nods' from a knot of assembled farmers gathered close by! Thankfully, local sheep farmers feel no compunction to 'redefine' the ancient concept of 'the flock', and just hope that this is a relatively warm winter so the upcoming lambing season is productive and enjoyable to work in without all that snow and ice that makes it no fun to go outside and tend the sheep.

Lamont Institutes 'First In The Nation' Neighborhood Watch Program Staffed Exclusively By Parrots

In a bold (and shockingly inexpensive!) move designed to tamp down on future potential crime and foster inter-species cooperation and understanding, the 2nd smallest Town in the state unveiled the latest in 'low-tech' security monitoring protocols - the 'Parrot on a Perch' program. Starting Friday, the parrots will be strategically placed throughout the town, mostly at key intersections (if Lamont has any of those!) but they also have the flexibility to be placed right outside troublesome residences, if necessary. "Well, Lamont is a sleepy place for the most part, but we have our moments!" said the ever-resourceful (and outrageously penny-pinching!) mayor. "We have that segment of the population that cries out for attention by driving back and forth while glaring at their neighbors for no particular reason - we have the angry malcontents who just like being unhappy and, of course, we have the occasional speeder and/or rabble-rouser prowling the darkness with selfish, unhealthy motivations and mischief in their hearts. All of these behaviors, we feel, can be effectively dealt with by witty, sardonic quips and clever rejoinders from a cadre of parrots placed throughout the town. I mean, who wants to be 'dissed' for bad behavior by a bird, for Pete's sake? How humiliating!!! Plus, the cost of the whole darn thing is just slightly more than mere 'chicken feed" he gushed, once again demonstrating a shocking degree of callousness or ignorance in regard to the feathered members of the animal kingdom!

The parrots, supplied to the Town by the highly efficient and forward-looking 'Erika' of Century West Engineering fame, are a highly trained and professional covey or flock or whatever it is that parrots are called when they group together (since this is cow country, we feel most comfortable with the term 'herd') - are currently going thru extensive language training and are being taught the essentials of personal (hand-to-hand just doesn't seem right!!!) combat (mostly to ward off overly curious housecats and the occasional wayward coyote) and are being drilled in the latest crowd control expressions. These expressions, tested by the nation's mother-in-laws and the U.S. Army's Psychological Warfare units on the battlefields of Afghanistan, are carefully crafted to inflict maximum personal humiliation and reproach. They include "Hey, cheer up, prune face", "Slow it down there, bird brain", and of course the all purpose "Hey buddy, I can see that your mom dresses you, but are you sure she let's you out this late at night?". The parrots are also being extensively trained to never remember any statement that includes the word "Mayor" - since that endless stream of invective from the citizenry would obviously fill up their somewhat limited memory banks in a matter of days - thus driving out the expressions necessary for crowd control and public safety. When asked, the "American Association of Parrots" expressed guarded optimism and gratitude for the role that these largely misunderstood birds will play in protecting the town, and only hope that these heroic crime-fighters will be given heated perches when the weather dips down to -20 degrees, as it seems to do each year. They were also kind enough to send 'parrot parkas' and dinosaur-like, claw-shaped gloves for the bird's comfort and protection. (at no charge, thank goodness!)