Town Passes Resolution Condemning France After Metric System Snafu Causes Major Town 'Brouhaha'

As if they needed another reason, the Town of Lamont declared that they officially hate one of the major countries in Europe because, many decades ago, they created an integrated system of unit measurement (that cleverly meshed length, weight, temperature and volume in a way that only a country that loves socialism and lays around all day long drinking wine and eating stinky cheese could ever do!) that is different from the one used in America and that is also not used by every country with a lick of sense in the whole doggone world! The issue arose after a simple comparison was made between the amount of water billed out to customers and the electronic reading at the pump itself. "Well, there was a pretty big difference between what we were billing for and the total water we assumed was being pumped from the ground - and being that this is the State of Washington, a whole lot of people got very excited about it" said the Mayor who just recently figured out that there were actually 16 ounces in a pound and not just 12. "We had every local 'Chicken Little' and hand wringing ninny within a 5 mile radius screaming to bring in a plumber and dig until we found the leak. The hysteria was really quite overwhelming" he said. "So, as is my nature, I did the only thing I could think to do - call Century West Engineering and pathetically plead (okay, it was much more like full-blown begging last seen when 'walking the plank' was all the rage in some circles) for some sort of miraculous delivery from a vexing problem that could bankrupt the town while the only proposed solution (from the 'Chicken Littles') could still not solve the actual riddle of the 'missing water'!!" he said contritely. "So, when all hope is gone, we know we can call Century West and things just seem to work out right! It happens all the time." he said.

"Well, as it turned out, somehow the actual computerized output display was capturing 'liters' (whatever they are!) and not gallons - a perfectly fine measurement unit that made this country great!" said an unnamed official loosely associated with the Town's water delivery system. "Someone must have been up there pushing buttons like a drunken madman or deranged 3-year-old on a sugar high or something and got the thing on the dadburn metric system or some such nonsense! And as the wicked banshee of Fate would have it, the symbol for the 'liter' (or as the stupid French spell it - 'litre') is the lower case 'L' - which looks amazingly like the number 'one' (#1) - so this whole time we have been carrying the actual water delivery amount to a level of precision that is not only incorrect (example 10.9 versus 10.91) and missed out on the fact that we were actually measuring liters and not gallons - and as any snail-eating, beret-wearing 'Frenchman' will tell you (if he is not too busy retreating from the Germans at the time!)- there are 4.54609 liters in the proven, trusted, tried-and-true, All-American gallon - so we thought we were pumping a lot more water than we actually were."

For his part, the (heroic?) Mayor is still frantically thrashing around in search of a 'saboteur' ('This had to be an inside job - someone I once trusted with the blind faith of the innocent has betrayed me! - I can just feel it!' he said with staggering levels of largely justified although painful-to-watch paranoia - although the list of people with a key to the pump house is actually quite small - given that there are in fact only 2 keys)- (Plus, the word 'saboteur' is of French origin too, which makes the task all the more ironic), but as of this writing no suitable culprit has been located. Century West, for their part, sent out a technician who made the adjustment to the display screen (and he had grace enough not to comment on the embarrassing - to say nothing of the less-than-worldly (dare we say ignorant?) origins of the problem!) and now everything is hunky-dory, happy-ever-after and all of that - and the Town did not bankrupt itself by digging dry holes all over the place in the fine tradition of Don Quixote with his windmills (Don Quixote was a Spaniard, by the way, and not a Frenchman - which somehow makes this literary reference even more satisfying!) and the Town of Lamont lives to fight another day in spite of themselves! Thanks Century West!

World-Class Area Hypochondriac Vindicated After Contracting Rare Summer Cold

Erma Snopes, 74, matron of the only slightly tarnished and disreputable Snopes farm/ranch cabal and an outrageous worry-wart, martyr and aficionado of imaginary illnesses called every person she knew (and several she didn't - given that she is a notoriously bad phone dialer) after visiting the emergency room for the 3rd time this month (and the 26th time this year alone!!) and receiving the sobering news that there was every possibility that she has contracted what is known in the 'non-medical community' as 'the common cold'. Although doubtful of the limited and less-than horrific diagnosis, (it could at least have been the Swine Flu!) Erma is just thankful that she can report that there is every possibility that she has an actual virus and that her sniffles and scratchy throat are not the enthusiastic imaginings of an over-active narcissist with an all-consuming persecution complex. Given that what is so casually referred to as the 'sniffles' and a 'scratchy throat' are common symptoms of almost every hideous tropical disease known to man and that this set of symptoms is the perfect cover for a new 'killer virus' designed by the government to reduce the number of Republican voters in an increasingly liberal nation, Erma was never one to 'look a gift horse in the mouth' and is happy to milk the under-diagnosed affliction for all it is worth.

"Well, although I feel certain that this latest setback is the onset of lymphatic cancer or at least a new strain of the Ebola virus, just the mere fact that a man with an actual medical degree confirmed my worst fears and that my body is being attacked by disgusting, life threatening viruses is just wonderful and that 'medical ruling' will allow me to silence my future critics so that everyone will take me seriously the next time I demand sympathy for a future case of 'Yellow Fever' or a mutated version of the '1918 Spanish flu' - assuming my body can summon the strength to fight off this latest scourge, that is. No one took me seriously when I caught the Bubonic plague in 2007 or when I worked in the garden for too long and was certain that I had contracted spinal meningitis, given that my back was so sore the next day - but now I have actual medical proof! But first I have to summon the inner strength to subdue this unknown and menacing virus - which is all the more difficult given that that mosquito truck comes around once a week, our town water is not distilled, Chinese pollution rains down on us from the 'jet stream' and the television emits radio waves that kill white blood cells. I would stock up on orange juice, but most of that comes from Brazil now and all that smoke from the burning rain forests has even rendered that remedy a potential poison. Oh, what will I do?" she bellowed.

Erma's husband, 'Skeeter' Snopes, 74, who has successfully feigned deafness for the last 14 years, nodded sympathetically as he took his wife's hand and lead her to her sick bed where there is a better than even chance that she will fall asleep so that he can get some peace and quiet for a change. Ironically, 'Skeeter' finds himself fantasizing all too frequently about contracting one of the almost limitless number of diseases and afflictions that his wife lays claim to on a weekly basis just so that someone would pay attention to him for a change, although his wife would not be there to provide his care given her unnatural fear of contracting whatever it is that he had - thus giving him some small reprieve from the daily grind of new crises and/or life shattering calamities that have so profoundly marked his married years and giving him the freedom to actually watch a TV show that is not medical in nature and/or allow him to actually read a book that has nothing to do with rare contagions, home cures and/or folk remedies from a bygone era, for Pete's sake!

Survey Results Show Town's Favorite Female Name Is "Nettie"

After sorting thru literally 1000's of names in over a dozen languages, the Town of Lamont concluded unanimously that the best overall female name, regardless of culture or age bracket, is that respected (yet highly under-utilized!) American classic "Nettie". Although no one is quite sure if the name 'Nettie' is a stand alone name, as is the case with a 'Richard' or a 'Betty' or if it is a nickname for some other even more impressive and regal sounding name - like 'Peggy' is a substitute for 'Margaret' - but this uncertainty and confusion didn't seem to dampen enthusiasm for what was, by all accounts, the odds on favorite from the start.

"Well, believe you me, names are important and if you are saddled with a bad one it can haunt you your whole life - like the looming threat that starving coyotes pose to a fat, lazy, three-legged rabbit! You learn to live with impending doom around every corner" said Gertrude Stinglehoffer, an unfortunate victim of the rare but doubly devastating 'first and last name' curse that affects almost 12% of the population at large. "I am not sure I will ever forgive my mother for insisting, after 46 hours of labor (and against the better council of my father who was later driven to the bottle!), in naming me something that was even clunky and awkward back in its prime - the late 1800's. She was so angry and deranged after suffering for so long (or that is the story she told years later - usually with a knowing wink) that the only way she felt she could pay me back with 'equal coin' was to name me something horrid and outdated. I mean, come on - a measly 46 hours of motherly discomfort versus a lifetime of anxiety and dread every time I have to make reservations or introduce myself to someone new. That's just not right!" Gertrude said with more than her fair share of righteous indignation. "When I have to introduce myself to someone new and I say that my name is Gertrude, you can just see them shrink back - as if some disease or something from the 1890's will go leaping off of me and send them to the emergency room in convulsions! It's just a name. I am not a bad person!" she said despairingly.

"Oh, growing up I would have killed for the name 'Nettie'! Well, come to think of it, I can think of 1000 names I would have killed for, but 'Nettie' is so nice and gracious sounding. A person with the name 'Nettie' is the type of friend you would want to have over once a week for tea. It is a serious name - but not formal or stuffy. You can imagine a 'Nettie' being a great gardener and being able to fly-fish for salmon with a baby lodged on her hip or something. Ninety-six percent (96%) of people who wake up from a 7-10 year coma open there eyes and see a person named 'Nettie' sitting patiently by their bedside, bible in hand (usually turned to the Old Testament), praying for such an event. It is a wholesome name yet one that allows room for fun and mischief. When you think of Gertrude - you think of mothballs and antiques that the children are not allowed to play with - and long black dresses and having to have perfect posture or else your bitter shrew of a grandmother would confine you to your room in a vast Victorian (think dark, dank and drafty) mansion until you learned to walk like a proper lady" she droned on frightfully - providing a classic Webster's Dictionary definition of TMI (too much information!!).

"Nettie is a great name. I am so glad it won. But I am really glad that we did not have to decide on the worst name. That is when you find out who your real friends are" she whispered wearily while motioning for her daughter 'Eleanor Louise' to stand up straight and bring her a glass of water - and not ice-cold water like last time since any caring daughter would surely know that ice water, if consumed too quickly, can lead to heart palpitations and death. "And anyway, half the fun of being a mother is passing down decades of neuroses and cultural abominations to your daughter(s)!" she said gleefully. "Its a mother-daughter thing that stretches back to when Eve, right after getting booted out from the garden of Eden for not following the most basic of instructions, named her 2nd daughter 'Tyrannosaur' (a fact thankfully not recorded in the bible for obvious reasons!)", she concluded sweetly if somewhat disingenuously. (Note to readers: The Town of Lamont has nothing against the name 'Gertrude' - and all statements pertaining to that name in this article reflect the views of Gertrude herself (and she should know!!) and do not necessarily represent the views of the Town or the collective citizenry at large. We apologize if any 'Gertrudes' were offended in any way)

Local Star Athlete Sidelined After Tragic Injury

The Town of Lamont's dreams of reflected glory and world-wide recognition were dashed on the cruel rocks of Fate late Tuesday when their chosen champion, "Sweet Pea", a 2 year old area heifer, had to withdraw from the much anticipated "Cow Olympics" after bruising a hoof or straining a tendon or something while in training for the highly competitive and ruthlessly cutthroat '200 meter dash to the saltlick" that is considered by many to be the premier event of bovine prowess and athleticism. "Well, I had her training out by the creek (pronounced crick) and she was giving it all she had - just straining to beat all I ever seen, (udders were flying everywhere!) when out of no where some dadburn badger came boiling out of the rocks and spooked her!" said Festus Martin, an area rancher and professional bovine trainer. "Well, it ain't like badgers and cows are good friends or nothing, so Sweet Pea just assumed that a charging badger had less than honorable intentions and attempted to run off the trail in a blind panic where she must have struck her dern hoof on a rock or something. When she came limping back onto the trail that leads back to the barn, we both knew that our dreams for a gold medal and world-wide fame were gone. She just looked up at me with those sad, cow-brown eyes as if to say 'Sorry coach. I let down the team'" he said, wiping away a tear. "Oh, the agony of defeat! If we could have just caught that on film, however, we could have run that on all those commercials for the "Cow Olympics" like that skier guy who fell off that big ski jump and just tumbled like a rag-doll or whatever. I must have seen that 1000 times if I seen it once" he said reflectively after gaining a hold of himself. "With the royalties from that clip alone I could afford that dream house right next to 'Dollywood', for Pete's sake!"

The Town, well-versed in almost every conceivable form of failure and rejection, is taking this latest twist of the world's cruel knife very badly. "Well, I have always said that we were cursed" said the deflated, now-spiritless Mayor. "I just wonder if the whole doggone town is built on some sort of voodoo burial ground or something" he said dejectedly while lowering the flag to half-mast (for the 7th time this year alone!). "Just once you would think that we could succeed at something, for Pete's sake! Is that too much to ask? It would appear that even our cows are jinxed now! Oh, when will we be delivered from this vortex of failure? When will the fickle finger of Fate quit thumping us on the forehead? Oh, when will all this madness stop and sheer random chance allow us to succeed even in some small way??" he concluded pathetically while curling himself into the fetal position in the center of the Town Hall office (which allowed him to notice that the carpet hadn't been vacuumed in quite a while - thus increasing his rising feelings of hopelessness, despair and a complete and total lack of control over any aspect of the town).

Plans Unveiled For New "Light Rail" Mass Transit System In State's 2nd Smallest Town

After spending almost 48 hours in the unnaturally alluring yet shockingly liberal bastion of Portland, Oregon - a local mayor returned to the Palouse with vigor, vitality, renewed zeal and no shortage of hair-brained schemes for bettering all of mankind and setting the scales of social justice right once again - one small, struggling, battered town at a time - with Lamont (pop 101) as the test bed for this global transformation. "Well, when I went there for a conference I had a few free hours before it started to just mill around and breathe in the fetid breath of liberalism, so I figured 'when in Rome', you know?" said the now starry-eyed mayor with a 'Yes We Can' button pinned to his brand new multi-colored (llama hair) poncho hand-made in South America by an indigenous tribe struggling against the evils of globalization (made from all natural 'earth friendly' materials and dyes, of course). "The place I was staying at was right by a major highway that just so happened to have a light rail component built adjacent to it. When I saw the rail cars lumber by, almost all empty except for some guys in conductor uniforms, I began to see the wisdom of huge governmental programs that provide no practical value whatsoever and address problems that are manufactured by a government/media mafia-like cabal that is primarily devoted to sustaining itself at the expense of the country as a whole and realized that Lamont was largely missing the boat in this regard" he gushed enthusiastically. "I saw that I was dropping the ball and I felt shame."

"Sure, cramming outrageous government-sponsored 'boondoggles' down the throats of a semi-informed citizenry has its challenges, especially in towns like Lamont that are not made of money (and that doesn't even have its own grocery store!!). And given that Lamont is so decidedly rural and that the cows outnumber people by about 100-to-1, just the sheer weight of numbers pointed me to the funding solution. (that decision was eased by the fact that cows don't vote!) By combining several themes so popular these days - global warming, destruction of the environment and people's natural aversion to things that smell really bad, we hit upon the novel idea of taxing the natural methane (a suspected greenhouse gas) output of the local cattle population (cattle 'emissions', although a less than glamorous conversation topic in some polite circles, is indeed deemed a major problem by some in the environmental movement - usually among hardcore vegetarians!) - and if push comes to shove (given the decrease in normal tax revenues due to the recession), we can strap those 'new-fangled' monitoring devices on the farmers/ranchers themselves - which will solve another of the Town's major problems!" said the mayor while fussing with his 'worry beads' he bought from a Portland hippie who said they were once blessed in a mountain temple in Tibet by the Dalai Lama himself. "So, if the Town mandates that all cows (and selected citizens?) wear the 'tried-and-true' monitoring device - the 'Methane-O-Meter 2000', Lamont would be able to monitor actual greenhouse emissions right at the source and tax them accordingly - thus providing a geyser of ready cash so the town could fund the 'light rail' project! It's just beautiful in its simplicity!" he stammered. "And I always thought those 'carbon credits' were stupid!!! Who looks stupid now?? Al Gore is a genius!" (On a serious note, taxing greenhouse gas emissions from livestock is currently being considered in DC - so this story is not completely off in left field. At the Lamont blog we pride ourselves on reporting the facts, regardless of how 'off-putting' or uncomfortable they may appear to the uninitiated. So, when you need the cold, hard, often shocking facts about life in the 21st century (to say nothing of the 19th!)- you can trust the Lamont blog to give it to you straight without all the fluff and nonsense you get from the other big news sources that so jealously covet our cutting-edge, well-above-average readership!) (yes, that was a shameless plug!!)

"Well, we are farmers/ranchers and this 'cow tax' would directly affect our 'bottom line', but if it could in some way help my husband with his 'little problem', then I am all for it" said Judy Brister, 39, a local farm wife with an unfortunately overly sensitive nose. "I don't care how often I alter the dinner menu or work over-the-counter products like "Bean-O" into his food, nothing seems to help! (rumor has it that her 'Bean-O Brownies" are well above the norm). So if we have to get the full power of the government behind this effort in order to be successful, then that is just one sacrifice that I am willing to make!! I mean, we have not had company in our house that stayed for more than 5 minutes in the last 16 years. That is really cramping my social life and the lives of the kids. Is it too much to ask for them to have school friends over once in a while? Who cares about the cows, we have a national emergency right here in my own home!!!" she bellowed while grabbing handfuls of her own hair with both hands and jerking her head back and forth violently as a sign of no small amount of cumulative frustration and angst. "Oh please! Someone help us! Please!" she begged pathetically.

For their part, the cows appear to not care 'one wit' about any of the larger global implications, given that they have an average IQ someplace between a cabbage and a chipmunk, but are only hoping that the "Methane-O-Meters" come in bright, neon colors that, when strapped to their nether regions, will allow for the proper expression of their respective personalities and only ask (or was it a demand?) that the boxes themselves not be made out of actual leather. (which seems reasonable, all things considered!) As for Lamont's 'Light Rail' system, this project may yet prove to be a smashing success (repeat travelers as a percentage of total population), given that the angry, bitter, 'mad-at-the-world' types that currently drive up and down the streets of Lamont trying to draw attention to themselves are by their very nature quite lazy, so the train might allow them to still tour the town (back and forth endlessly!!) while giving their fellow citizens the 'stink eye' without actually going to the trouble of getting behind the wheel of a vehicle that is on its last leg anyway and needs to be sent to the junk heap along with all those appliances and furniture they have so lovingly stored in their yards.

Local Wiener Dog Basks In Glory After Chasing Reprobate Deer From Unprotected And Vulnerable Front Yard

A local wiener dog, alternately known as 'Honey Bear', 'Bear-Bear' or more often than not "You Little #$@%" was seen strolling the grounds of her domain late Tuesday - walking a little taller than normal (if that descriptor can be used for a wiener dog - somehow that seems like an oxymoron to me) and with an air of confidence and bravado not seen in Lamont since Jebediah Lamontowitz first settled the territory after his last mule went lame and the poor, broken, defeated man just gave up and laid down on the side of the trail to die (thankfully for us he was even unsuccessful at that - along with being unsuccessful at love, wealth, happiness, gambling, genetics and, of course, personal hygiene) thus beginning the long, slow, almost sadistic decline into what is now known as the second smallest town in the state - the humble berg of Lamont, WA - 99017. (A TV show called '99017' would be just about as far as you could get from the hit TV show '90210' - unless I missed those episodes about poaching deer and driving around in a big circle all night long, hoping someone would come outside so you could drive past them and give them the 'stink-eye' while not waving - thus exerting dominance over them in some sort of primitive, passive-aggressive sort of way!)

"Well, I was out in my yard at dusk in my "Daisy Duke' shorts and 'Bippy-top' in order to see if the mosquitoes would attack me so I would have a pretense to go storming down to the Mayor's house to complain about the sorry state of his 'so-called' administration when all of a sudden I saw several does and a small buck go darting across Garfield Street in the direction of our fine Middle School" said Erma Blancher - a local para-educator and town curmudgeon (editorial note: Can a woman be a curmudgeon or is that strictly a 'male thing'?) "Anyway, as I watched those graceful creatures bound away with obvious ease, my eye was drawn to a subtle movement in the grass just about ankle high - and when this unknown force of nature broke free of its earthly confines and darted into the neighbor's driveway, I saw what looked like some kind of Subway sandwich on legs or something moving at what was, by all accounts, a less than impressive speed. (it was obviously sacrificing speed in order to keep up that ear splitting yapping that would have emptied the cemetery if Lamont had one) said the gloomy grouch who has a hand in our children's education and who, sadly for her, did not receive a single mosquito bite due to the fine work of John Sypher and Kynda Browning and the rest of the Tekoa 'mosquito-busting' team.

The dog (actually half Chihuahua and half wiener dog - thus proving once again that Chihuahua genes, thankfully, are by and large recessive in nature and easily stamped out of any self-respecting 'gene pool'), after breaking all known 'wiener dog world records' for continuous running (the distance was measured at slightly less than 11 meters - breaking the previous record by 9 inches!), slowly sauntered back to the house where it immediately collapsed on the couch and slept for the next 14 hours - as if trying to minimize its obvious feat of bravery and physical endurance. (wiener dogs are by nature a humble breed and shun the spotlight). The deer, for their part, were only passing thru on their way to the Mayor's apple trees where his first good crop in four years is coming along nicely and is hanging low for ease of access. No injuries were reported by either party - but neither antagonist appears eager to renew the altercation at this point.

Crazy 'Whole Bible' Following 'Israelites' Descend On Town For Pentecost - Area 'Pick-And-Choose' Bible Followers Up In Arms!

In a scene straight out of the religious wars in Europe in the 1500's (or, given that it is Lamont - the Hatfields and McCoys a few centuries later) - the tenuous 'religious' balance of the Town was laid on its head after a group of devout believers came to town to celebrate one of the festivals laid down in a part of the bible that a vast majority of modern Christians show little regard for - the misleadingly named and often completely ignored 'Old Testament'. "Well, half the fun of being a modern Christian is picking and choosing what part of the bible you have to follow" said an unnamed regional 'church-goer' who has been darkening the door of a church for the last 57 years but has very little knowledge of the scriptures that Jesus and all the disciples used - given that the so called "New Testament" had not been written at the time. "Sure, we like to say that we believe in the 'whole bible', and really like the parts where we get to say 'tisk tisk' at people for behaviors that we have not been caught doing yet, but as far as following the whole thing - that is just a little too much to expect, really" he said piously. "Sure, we meet on Sunday although the 4th Commandment clearly states that the "Sabbath" is the 7th day of the week and starts at sundown Friday and goes until sundown Saturday - but that would really cut down on our weekend personal 'fun' time - and plus, that is something that only those crazy groups do. If the Lord wanted us to keep the Sabbath holy, He would not have put college football on that day. I mean, come on - use your head" he said reprovingly.

"So, any part of the bible that we do not like, we can just say that that part was 'nailed to the Cross' and it is like some sort of 'get out of Hell free' card or something. It is really kind of nifty if you think about it. Sure, we like those parts of the Old Testament about tithing (that is one of our favorites) - and not stealing because we are comparatively rich - oh yea, and that part about 'smiting one's enemies' is a good one - but when it comes to most of the other parts of the 'Old Testament' - well, we can pretty much make up our own minds on those on a case-by-case basis and do what we want to do anyway. Who would want to belong to a religion where you didn't make up your own rules as you went along? That would be silly!" he concluded with a wily, knowing chuckle.

These troublemaking, apple-cart overturning, gravy-boat spilling Israelites or Hebrews or whatever they are eagerly accept Ephraimites, Jews, Christians, and Gentiles that are all seeking to find a body of end time disciples of Messiah that are following His Word and not man's traditions. "What? I didn't understand a word you just said" said the traditional church-goer who loves nothing more than watching college football all day long with a big bag of pork rinds and a quart of lukewarm buttermilk. These so-called 'Israelites" embrace the whole bible (no picking and choosing) and preach out of the Torah (first 5 books of the bible) each week and tie it into the Prophets, Wisdom Literature and the 'New Testament' - thus weaving the entire bible together into its intended coherent whole. Even more shocking, they also observe Yahweh's Appointed Times (Holy Days) (where the word 'holiday' comes from) and do not follow the Roman Sun Calendar or Satan's holidays (what do the pagan fertility symbols of rabbits and eggs really have to do with Jesus rising from the dead, anyway?). "Well, I just have no idea what any of that means - but if I did I can assure you I would be dead set against it!" said the devout Huskies fan/church elder. "This is America and in America we gather Easter eggs and eat chocolate rabbits to celebrate Jesus rising from the dead!! And sure, 'Sunday' was the traditional day for worshiping the pagan "Sun God" of Rome - but what does that matter?? What do these people have against the sun, for Pete's sake? We just don't need a bunch of whole bible believers running around stirring up that sweet deal we carved out for ourselves where we are the pious ones and everyone else is below us where they belong. Can't they just go away and leave us to our bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwiches and our smug self-satisfaction? And it just ain't American to try to ruin college football, either. That's all I got to say on the matter!" he said before storming off in a huff, waving his bible (the first two-thirds appeared to be brand new) in the air like a war club or something.

As of this writing, no violence has been reported (although several 'Whole Bible Types' report getting the 'stink-eye' on more than one occasion) and none of the Israelites or Hebrews or whatever they are have been excommunicated, burned at the stake, placed on the rack or secured to the public stocks (the stocks are often conveniently located within tomato throwing distance from the typical church door) - but there has been a marked increase in tongue clicking and hand wringing in some traditional church circles (and a whole lot less hand waving as they glumly drive home after leaving church on Sunday) as the 'pick-and-choosers' just hope that this whole inconvenient reality check will just go away so they can go back to mowing their yards and watching football on the Sabbath, ignoring 2/3rds of the bible and eating pork chops wrapped in bacon 3-4 times a week.

When asked for comment, the "Israelite" spokesperson just said to look at the last verse in Judges. Sadly, (or thankfully, depending on which side you are on) this verse is also in the often neglected 'Old Testament' so it is largely unknown to a vast majority of modern Christians and can thus be 'nailed to the Cross', too, if the need arises.

Local "Loner" Cow Feels Oppressed, Smothered By That Whole "Herd Concept"

A local cow, tag number 2146, just wants to be left the heck alone and to be able to 'do her own thing' in spite of belonging to a species that traditionally enjoys grouping together for protection as well as for the obvious social advantages of having dozens of similar creatures within mooing distance, insiders report. The cow, rejected by its mother as the 'weaker twin' several years ago, was bottle fed as a calf and thus developed behaviors and internal response patterns vastly different from the more "herd oriented' members of its social group. "Well, I guess we just spoiled the darn thing rotten" said Zeb Pinkerton, 63, a local rancher. "I remember going out by where the fence crosses the creek (pronounced 'crick') and hearing that little critter just bellowing to beat all. Her mother, tag number 1139, was lavishing attention on the stronger, healthier twin and could not be induced, under any circumstances, to care for the weaker, more sickly - and let's be honest, less-than-handsome calf - so I had to bundle the poor, still-wet thing up in my wife's new coat, threw it in the front seat of the truck and took it into the downstairs bathroom that my deadbeat brother-in-law uses where it would be warm and the kids could take turns bottle feeding it" he said. "How was I to know that this special treatment would go to the cow's head and that it would reject the very ingrained behavior patterns that make cattle so easy to control and manage?" he said despairingly. "I feel that if that darn cow would just give the herd a chance that she would see that hanging out, eating endlessly and just wandering around in a daze with the other cows can indeed be satisfying and really helps pass the time before she's shipped off to the meat processing plant down in Oregon. All we want is for her to be happy - but bucking the whole herd is just a recipe for misery and loneliness" he concluded sadly. "How do I get that thru her thick skull?"

"I think our big mistake was trying to be surrogate parents to the poor thing" said Mabel Pinkerton, 57 - the rancher's wife and notorious busybody/gossip/blabber-mouth of near biblical proportions. "When we put it in that downstairs bathroom, we figured that would be significantly similar to the 'barn concept' - given my live-in kid brother's almost shockingly bad bathroom habits, so we can't really blame it's rebellious nature on its environment, I don't think. She should have felt right at home!" she said sympathetically. "And for the first several months, the whole family ceased talking in the calf's presence and would just moo at each other - although we often had to accompany this 'cow friendly' communication protocol with a whole lot of arm and hand gesturing to get anything done - so its not like we humanized the calf in that way (sadly, during this stage actual intelligible family communication increased by 46% - husband-wife communication soared a whopping 126%!). Oh, I just don't know where we went wrong." she bellowed.

"That cow just has a mind of her own - which is less than advantageous when your entire existence hangs on the whims of a profession that values docility and ease of control above all other personality variables (in cows as well as in humans) " she sighed. "Thankfully, with beef prices (on the hoof) soaring and the payment coming due on that big family trip to "Dollywood" last year, it is only natural to downsize the herd somewhat and create a more homogeneous grouping without those troublesome outliers that can take up so much 'one-on-one' time and reduce the time available to watch 'Gunsmoke' reruns and set up elaborate 'cat-and-mouse' scenarios in order to reduce those pesky coyotes that are an unfortunate fixture of modern ranch life" she said sweetly. "But I do miss Tag Number 2146 laying on the rug at my feet, watching "Big Valley' with the family - those big cow-brown eyes glued to the screen - and those cute little ears perking up anytime some cow-related background noise came on the TV. And she was always so proud when one of those milk commercials came on - her rope-like tail would just thump on the floor to beat all I ever seen!. That doggone heifer was better than any dog we ever thought of having" she sobbed, storming out of the room before anyone saw her showing actual human emotion. "Oh, why is life so unfair? Why can't all living things be exactly the way we want them to be, when we want them to be? Why, why, why???" she ranted insanely, spittle flying haphazardly from her wildly undulating yet eerily bloodless lips.

Mayor Visits Century West Engineering's 'Dream Factory' For The First Time (Ever!!)

Although they have been working wonders in Lamont for over 5 years, a local Mayor finally got off of his lazy duff and made an appearance at the offices of one of the premier engineering firms in the Pacific Northwest - Century West Engineering (Lamont's official engineering firm). While attending the AWC Annual Conference in Spokane, (an enormous megalopolis almost 50 miles from Lamont and thus filled with mystery, uncertainty and no small amount of inexplicable terror) - the Mayor, in typical 'Lewis and Clark' fashion, threw caution to the wind and suggested that the "Lamont Team" break thru even more outrageous psychological barriers and drive all the way to Spokane Valley to say hello to the caring professionals who have done so much to make Lamont livable, safe and someplace to be proud of.

"Well, I was just ready to boldly go where no Lamont Mayor had gone before, I guess" said the intrepid, brazen, foolhardy, devil-may-care Mayor with reckless abandon. "I mean, after living in Lamont, one cannot help but view the world as a foreign, frightening and all-too-fast-paced roller-coaster ride of strange ideas, foreign concepts and people who are just waiting to taint you with their 'big city ways'. So, as a rule, we tend to stay pretty close to home," said the Mayor. "As you know, a large part of Lamont's 'down home' mystique is the thin façade of 'good neighborliness' - so not visiting such a key player in the Town's success would at some point be considered rude on our part, I guess" he stammered (this realization came about 4 years too late!!) "Of course, as Mayor, I have seen the almost unbelievable output from what to me was always a magical place - the new roads and pure water (and who can forget the huge base of the new flagpole that the Century West Engineers did the math on), but to actually visit the epicenter of this dynamic, techno-savvy engineering paradise was just a little overwhelming. I just didn't know what to expect, really" he said wearily.

"Being the second smallest town in the state, Lamont is not accustomed to being represented by such first-rate talent as the Century West team. When I visit the typical Lamont partner/vendor that, of their own free will, does business with the Town, it is not unusual to see any number of chickens running loose in their lobby or to have some old, weather-beaten guy with a cigarette dangling from his parched, yellowed lips trying to sell me a watch as I would attempt to weave my way past the grain sacks and goat droppings into the inner offices where I could do the Town's business - all the while trying not to get any feathers on me, for Pete's sake!" said the Mayor who is really creeped out by barn fowl in general and those disgusting chickens in particular. "So, when I finally worked up the courage to go thru the shiny outer doors at Century West last week, one can only guess at my surprise when I saw a neat, clean, business professional décor that didn't smell like a barn and that even had that new-fangled (and completely unnecessary and ostentatious - by Lamonst standards, anyway) contraption - central air conditioning."

So, after pressing the elevator button and being whisked at break-neck speed to the second floor (the stairs were right there but, being lazy and out of shape, the elevator just seemed that much more 'hip' and 'sophisticated' to him, given the circumstances) and having the elevator doors open on the "Century West Engineering Floor" the Mayor immediately came face-to-face with the world famous and outrageously efficient Erika who sparkled with that pure, refined energy of the American 'can-do' spirit that has made this country great and allowed engineering firms in a previous era to so brazenly land a man on the moon and return him safely to the Earth. After exchanging a few words with that uber-goddess of efficiency, Erika, about her parrot rescue program that she does in her home with her husband, the giddy and decidedly emotionally punch-drunk Mayor was whisked, like an 'over-sugared' kid at Disneyland's 'Space Mountain', into the engineering "holy of holies" - the office of the President of Century West Engineering, Dennis Fuller - where, after taking in the scene of brisk, bustling activity in support of other towns like Lamont, the Mayor immediately passed out cold from sensory overload (any rumors to the effect that it was more of 'a swoon' are outrageous!) and was sadly carted back to the car in a surplus office chair with wheels (thankfully, the elevator was employed yet again although the Lamont team lobbied enthusiastically for taking the stairs - citing a new-found desire for increased fitness or something) before he could utter a word of thanks to the team that has been so wonderful to the Town and who the Mayor attributes his crushing landslide victory to in the last election (the mayor was unopposed and got a grand total of 28 votes!) (that last part is true, believe it or not!!) (not that the other parts of the story aren't true - but the part about the 28 votes was really, really true!) (and the part about the chickens! That was true!!) (okay, the part about 'the swoon' was not true, but the visit was so exciting that it could have happened that way, doggone it!!!)

Local Man Suspected Of Weaving 'Latinisms' Into Casual Conversation - Suspicious Townsfolk Vow To 'Keep An Eye On Him'

Jeb Snopes, a local fixture in the long established yet only slightly tarnished Snopes ranching dynasty (some would say cabal or rabble) has been heard on several occasions weaving Latin expressions into his otherwise dull and lifeless conversational style - causing his listeners to suspect that some form of foreign influence is beginning to manifest itself into his otherwise muddled thinking and highly erratic (historically speaking) behavior. "Well, I was sitting back, griping about that dern coyote that has been vexing me for the last several years and voiced my frustrations and desire to end this unsatisfactory relationship (between the coyote and the man's calf population) in more or less salty terms when all of a sudden Jeb just piped up and said "we need to get an 'ad hoc' hunting party out there, I guess"" said the stunned Purvis Plum, 59, an area farmer/rancher, with hardly disguised mistrust and vexation. "Ad hoc? What in tarnation is that supposed to mean? Sounds like some sort of 'Commie" talk to me!" he stammered indignantly. "Then later on that day, as we were discussing the relative population density patterns of the highly industrious yet decidedly cantankerous badger population in north Whitman County, I am pretty sure he used the expression "ex post facto", although he could have been saying "I don't think so" - it was hard to tell because he had stuffed an enormous handful of my homemade 'deer jerky' into his mouth and it took him almost 5 minutes to swallow the mess, for Pete's sake. That boy eats like a dadburn badger, if you ask me! And that was my last bag of jerky from that deer I 'accidentally' hit with the truck last year on that lonely County road late at night when the game warden was tucked safely in bed!" said rancher Plum with a knowing wink. (coincidentally, his deer rifle was present in the gun rack at the time of the supposed altercation and the truck, thankfully, bore no lasting signs of the unfortunate collision - and either did the deer, come to think of it)

Although unconfirmed, rumors abound that Jeb, upon returning home after a day's work with the cows, frequently turns on PBS and watches those 'fancy educational shows" that so frequently pollute the local airwaves - as opposed to doing what any self-respecting rancher would do - leaf thru various gun magazines and whittle. (thankfully, rumor has it that he is particularly fond of those shows from England dealing with hotels and veterinarians or what not - so, at least he is not drawing his inspiration from one of those suspect countries like France or Belgium) "Well, he is getting those 'high fluting' ideas from someplace." said the aptly named Mabel Twitter, an area farm wife, the Town's premier gossip and renowned busy-body with regional aspirations. "It just ain't right to go weaving in some foreign language into normal American speech!! Not in the 'Good Old USA'!!! I wonder if we should call 'Homeland Security' or something? I know for a fact that all them terrorists on '911' spoke Latin or one of them unnatural languages with weird letters and punctuation and all of that! That whole dern mess over there is a bunch of Latin speakers, from what I heard!! And to think that PBS, paid for with our tax dollars, would be pumping that poison into our homes every night. Oh, mercy!!! What's next - the Cookie Monster trying to get us to buy foreign cars? Oh, this country is in a really bad way!!!" she bellowed while gazing at the Town's outrageously huge and impressive new flagpole recently erected in the park (along with a bunch of new trees!!) as if to draw strength from our cherished national symbol.

Mayor Sinks Even Further Into Depression After Seeing Aerial Photo Of Town

Although seemingly impossible, a local Mayor was laid even more low by a casual glance at a seemingly innocent and highly informative visual representation of the Town that he currently serves. The Mayor, freshly returned from the AWC annual conference in Spokane where he learned that the smallest designation for towns in the State is the dreaded and highly humiliating "Under 5000 Population" category, was still coming to grips with this obviously insurmountable hurdle that the Town of Lamont (pop. 101)(note to reader: This 101 figure is not an official census count - but is based off of various 'straw polls' that the town conducts, usually on weekends when someone is having an unusually large BBQ or something) has to leap in order to have at least a modicum of self-respect and positive self-image. Sadly, as the Mayor was milling around listlessly, pondering the obvious disadvantages of unleashing 50 times as many "Lamonters" (some would call them Lamontazoids) on the world just to get out of that most shameful of population categories, he happened to glance at a piece of paper that displayed an aerial photo of Lamont and this single event sent him over the edge into even more outrageous levels of smoldering self-pity, biting organizational inferiority, and that most undesirable of feelings for a mayor - 'population envy'.

"Well, I thought we were doing pretty well until I realized we were at the bottom end of the bottom end category for cities and towns in Washington" said the dispirited and now lifeless Mayor. "I mean, if the lowest of the low is 50 times bigger than we are - what the heck does that say about us? It is almost too mind-boggling to come to grips with in a state of complete sobriety, for Pete's sake!' he sniveled. "I am not sure what "city slicker' came up with those arbitrary and totally random categories, but I would love to march right up to them and just thank them politely for destroying any vestige of organizational self-worth that I had left - and believe you me I was running on fumes as it was!! You would think that they would throw towns like Lamont a bone and create a special category like "Pathetic Loser Towns With A Population Of 50 Or Fewer" just so we could have someone to tease and make fun of. But NOOOO! They had to make the lowest rung of the ladder 50 times as big as we are. Where do we go from here?" he moaned. "Oh, mercy!! Where do we go from here?"

Mike McCarty, Lamont's Favorite Tall Person, Is Selected To Head The AWC (Assoc. of WA Cities)

Amidst the roaring applause and knowing glances at the Lamont table at the "Speaker's Lunch" held at the Annual AWC Meeting in Spokane this week, years of preparation and planning were finally realized as the obviously qualified and extremely capable individual, Mike McCarty, was rocketed into the upper echelons of power within that organization - and finally Lamont's "Manchurian Candidate' was in a position where the town's plans for State domination could be realized at last. Although largely unknown or forgotten by most people with actual lives, Mr. McCarty, in an all-too-common gesture of grace and pity for the underdog, visited Lamont earlier this year to see for himself if a town so small and without obvious resources and management talent could indeed exist in the modern world - and because he felt that it was too easy for organizations like the AWC to focus on the larger entities at the expense of the smaller ones. So, Mike decided to pay Lamont a visit (which was, by the way, the biggest, most exciting event in Lamont since that unfortunate Mt. St. Helen's volcano eruption buried the town under tons of ash in the 1980's!!) to see what was what, after all. (cut and paste link to see previous story on Mike's visit to Lamont - http://lamont-wa.blogspot.com/2009/02/local-mayor-faces-own-worst-fears-in.html?showComment=1234226760000 )

Soon after Mike entered the Lamont Town Hall last February (and determined that the building doesn't even have a bathroom - which was unfortunate indeed after that long drive from Olympia!), Mike was lulled into a false sense of security with coffee and freshly baked "muffins" provided by Betty Stone (AKA - Comrade Betty) - a long time Councilperson and fellow counter-revolutionary. "Well, as soon as his defenses were down and we managed to give the impression that we were normal, our brainwashing techniques began in earnest" said an unnamed official close to the plot. "Before he knew it, he was surrounded by 5-6 heifers that were trained to moo constantly and breathe that warm, sweet breath into his face for hours on end. The noise (and humidity!!) can be overwhelming and serves to disorient 'City Folk" and thus make them putty in the hands of a skilled brainwasher! Nine times out of ten the average man will suffer a psychological breakdown at this point and will do and/or believe whatever we say - but Mike, unfortunately, was made of sterner stuff, so we had to resort to the unthinkable - farm/ranch aroma therapy. Needless to say, after several hours of this unsettling concoction of barn floor, chicken coop, and cattle shoot - to say nothing of the distinct odor of the ranch hands themselves, Mike's defenses were reduced to rubble and our indoctrination program could proceed unimpeded."

Once a person is properly prepared for brainwashing, the standard practice is to start off slow, so the Mayor began by repeating "Lamont has a larger population than Sprague" until Mike numbly repeated the phrase - although without any obvious conviction. As the hours progressed, increasingly more far-fetched concepts were slipped into Mike's subconscious like "Lamont has high-speed internet connectivity" and "Lamont citizens often shower more than once per week". These obvious falsehoods were harder to digest - but at this point the constant mooing (to say nothing of the warm, moist breath in his face) - coupled with the typical smells that the average farmer faces every day were so unsettling that Mike would agree to just about anything in order to breathe fresh air again and return to someplace where banjo music isn't always playing in the background. (no one has ever figured out where this creepy banjo music originates from, but it is present at almost every bizarre and inexplicable event in the town - kind of like the London fog in a Sherlock Holmes novel or something) "That is when I knew that all we had to do was bide our time (of which Lamont has an abundance) and Mike's obvious talents and professionalism would catapult him (and thus Lamont) into the very bosom of power within the State itself" said the Mayor, fiendishly rubbing his hands together like a demented sorcerer over some crystal ball or something. "Ahh, I just love it when a plan comes together!!" he said triumphantly while gazing fondly at the framed picture of Chairman Mao (the father of cattle-based brainwashing techniques) that so proudly hangs over the computer in the Town Hall.

Disasterous Stampede Averted By Rancher's 'Just-In-Time' Delivery Of Fresh Alfalfa

A massive herd backlash over decreased grain supplement portions and the outrageous amounts of manure left so thoughtlessly around the salt lick was narrowly averted this week when local rancher, Elmer Festoon, age 62, managed to get his tractor started (which some would say is an obvious indication of Divine intervention!) and delivered a huge alfalfa bale to the back pasture known as 'Grumbler's Glen", instantly quelling months of simmering anger and resentment on behalf of the herd.

The alfalfa, freshly harvested down by Steptoe and delivered to the Festoon spread just the day before as part of some 'feed for beef" barter transaction - effectively pacified the angry mob that had, by some accounts', begun to show the ominous signs of 'pre-stampede' behavior. "Well, I was retracing my steps looking for where I dropped my pouch of "Redman" chewing tobacco when I happened to glance up and saw a sight no rancher in his right mind ever wants to see" said 'Stinky' Snopes, the ranch's newest cow poke. "All I could think to do was run to the barn, bellowing to beat all, and warn the men that trouble was a'brewin'" said the brave yet decidedly malodorous ranch hand. "I just bought that pouch of chew and that is the last thing I needed was to have it trampled in the dust in some hellish 'mad dash to nowhere' by a bunch of disgruntled cows who don't appreciate a thing we do for them. All we ever do is slave, day in and day out, to make sure they are fat and happy - and this is our reward? Not many things in this world are as demanding and less appreciative as a dadburn cow! And hey, that tobacco cost me almost 4 bucks, with them new taxes and all!"

"Well, the herd has been fed up and ready to explode for weeks," said Sue Martin, an area animal behaviorist. "Cows are touchy and can hold a grudge, but when all that fresh, aromatic, utterly irresistible alfalfa showed up, it just no longer seemed so urgent to go galloping off in a blind panic, trampling down fences and getting farther away from the ranch - which suddenly didn't seem so bad, after all" she said. "Cows may be quick to anger and can fight dirty when provoked, but little gestures go a long way towards soothing their volatile emotions. All they ever really need to know is that someone, somewhere, really loves and cares about them. They are really quite sentimental when you get right down to it" she concluded tearfully.

Besides suppressing the overwhelming desire to cause uncontrollable chaos and mayhem, the alfalfa also served to placate the herd on a physical level - leaving many if not most of the bovines full and slightly drowsy. Insiders report that many heifer/calf pairs wandered off into the tall grass to take a nap - or at least to lay down for a while. Other herd members were heard cheerfully bellowing randomly or were seen frolicking and chasing each other for no apparent reason. "It was really kind of cute the way they forgot about their anger and just became cows again" said Stinky Snopes - before trudging off to get the shovel to clean the manure from around the salt lick like Mr. Festoon asked him to do last week. "I always love a good ending" he said, casually dabbing his suddenly moist eyes.

Ranch owner Elmer Festoon, who never wanted to be a rancher but was the dumbest of the 4 sons so, of course, was chosen to stay on the ranch and take over from his dad, "Old Man Festoon", said delivering the alfalfa was the right thing to do. "After 'hearing tale' that the herd was so unhappy, I wanted to make it clear to each and every cow how much they mean to us - especially with the price of beef going thru the roof and all," Festoon said. "Also, those cows I traded for the alfalfa were all on the cull list anyway, so it didn't cost me a dime, really" concluded the smug cheapskate - making a mental note to 'dress down' that 'no-good' Snopes kid for not following instructions in a timely manner and to remind him of the value of personal hygiene.

Town Braces For Worst As Local Man Sets Off To Become "The Elvis Of The Palouse"

Although seemingly impossible at this point, the Town of Lamont was actually genuinely shocked by the antics of one of its citizens after a local man, Jed Bodine, future heir of the Bodine farm/ranch concern, has thrown caution to the wind, good taste out the window, and has heaved all forms of self-respect and personal modesty onto the burning pyre of fleeting fame as he devotes his obviously abundant personal energy and largely depleted family fortune towards the quest to become the most popular Elvis impersonator in the Palouse. "Well, this is a free country - and with that freedom comes an inevitable level of bizarre and inexplicable behavior, I guess" said the down-trodden and jaded town Mayor. "Just when I thought we had stamped out that whole "hootenanny" craze that has periodically paralyzed the town, another even more insidious and menacing fad rises up like some sort of cheesy phoenix or something to take its place. Can't I go thru one week as mayor without some kooky behavior or crazy cultural manifestation threatening the very social fabric of the Town, for Pete's sake?" he said mournfully. "Every mayor's worst nightmare is to open up the front door and see a seething mob of dazzling, shiny, pastel-colored Elvis impersonators (the capes, belts and scarves are particularly frightening) all lined up with a song on their lips and town mischief in their hearts" he said. "And he doesn't look a thing like Elvis, even with those glued-on mutton chops! Oh, and that voice! Every time he greases back his hair, unbuttons his cape and begins singing "You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog" in the park, the coyotes for miles around just go wild! I don't know if they like it or want to scratch their own ears out or what, but it sure causes them to make an awful racket" he said. "And since when did Elvis play the ukulele? The whole thing is just so wrong!" he concluded stoically.

"Well, it puts a whole new and unfortunate slant on that classic song "Hunk-a Hunk-a Burning Love"" said an unnamed housewife/neighbor and good friend to "Mrs. Elvis", Gertrude Bodine. "I don't know about you, but when I remember Elvis, I remember the slim and trim one from the early years. I know my husband could stand to lose a few pounds too and that shiny polyester with sequins and glitter does stretch a great deal, but is that really a risk we, as a town, want to take? Even man-made fibers have their breaking point! Plus, I just can't help but think that Jed is trying too hard to capitalize on that whole late-1970's weight gain thing. That is just not a good memory!" she said thru pursed lips as if trying to dispel a really bad taste in her mouth. "Oh, and his poor wife. Sure, Gertrude went thru that whole "Coal Miner's Daughter" phase a few years back, but I thought we moved past that. But at least she could sing!" she concluded, furrowing her brow in obvious concern.

As of this writing, Mr. Bodine was sitting in the park, eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich (with mayo, of course) and practicing curling up the corner of his lip and perfecting the phrase "Thank you. Thank you very much". Jed, thankfully, declined comment for this article.

Local Mayor Gets All "Weak In The Knees" When Time Comes For Annual Inspection Of Top Of Water Tank

In what appears to be one sorry episode from start to finish, a local mayor made any number of excuses and prevarications when the time actually came to climb to the top of the 6-story high water tank on the highest hill in Lamont. Although these lame excuses ranged from "someone needs to make sure the ladder doesn't fall" to "hey, is that my phone ringing? (1/4 mile away!!)", insiders suspect that the aging mayor is developing a middle aged fear of heights and just can't come to grips with this natural (although unflattering) part of the aging process. "Well, we needed to go up to the top of the water tank to make sure the water access hatch was secure and that everything was in working order and 'ship-shape'" said an unnamed man who did not succumb to the panicky whims of fancy and bravely climbed the caged ladder to the top like some two-legged 'mountain goat' or something. "As we all got ready to climb up there, the mayor suddenly wandered off, mumbling something about some WSU weed control website and the need to check for noxious weeds growing up on the hill in order to protect the farmers from a devastating infestation or something" said the intrepid climber (actually a town councilman who likes to chip in) who, against all reason and the natural, innate desire for self-preservation at any cost, stayed up on top of the tower for over an hour taking publicity pictures after the work was done.

The water tank, planned and built by Century West Engineering (the Town's wonderful engineering firm) as part of the fantastic improvements they have made to the Town of Lamont, is a soaring structure of concrete and steel that looms above the town like some modern day "Tower of Babel" (or Dracula's Castle, depending on your point of view and comfort level with high, exposed places where any sudden gust of wind or slippery spot could theoretically send you plummeting to an inglorious, humiliating, arm-flapping demise!!) and provides breath-taking views of the beautiful countryside (to say nothing of the 82 psi of water pressure that the town enjoys - all courtesy of that mixed blessing - gravity) - although the mayor would not know this because his feet remained firmly planted on "terra firma" as he paced around the base of the giant structure, wringing his sweaty hands together and coming up with excuses for why he could not go up there under any circumstances - all for the greater good of the Town, of course.

"Stupid gravity! Why do things need to be so high for it to work?" moaned the Mayor. "Sure, we love our outrageous water pressure and we do have some of the purest drinking water in the State (it is worth a trip to Lamont just to see the beautiful, amazingly clever design of our new water system - all courtesy of Century West Engineering and the USDA, CDBG and other wonderful funding sources), but if those darn engineers at Century West were so smart, I just don't see why they could not have figured out a way to harness this wonderful power of nature in a less frightening, closer-to-the-ground sort of way! Sure, they are the best engineers anyone ever heard of, but the next time they do a project like this they should factor in a whole slew of intangible variables like human frailty, unnatural, unwarranted and often bizarre phobias and, of course, the preponderance of outrageously irrational human fear based on no actual, tangible threat at all into their otherwise excellent design plans" whined the Mayor.

Local Cat 'Less Than Pleased' At Recent Cat Litter Brand Change

A local feline, 'Spuds McKenzie", has been decidedly unsettled and moody after his owner, Purvis Bodine, age 32, decided to buy scented cat litter as opposed to the traditional, manly, 'no-fuss, no-muss', All-American brand of pure clay cat litter that any self-respecting relative of the lion and cheetah would be proud to relieve himself in. The cat, who now spends almost 20 hours per day outside, just sits on the back porch and either stares at his owner with hardly disguised disgust or actually walks over to an exposed grassless earth patch and begins digging (whether the cat actually has to go to the bathroom or not) when the owner wants to have some quality time together. "What the heck has gotten into that stupid cat?" bemoaned Purvis. "I got a raise at work and thought I would do something nice for my little buddy. The store had 'Wild Flower Potpourri' scented cat litter and I figured he would just love it - like he was in some big field filled with flowers like in the movie "The Sound of Music" or whatever" said the painfully misinformed, outrageously naive man who needs to have his head examined (after receiving a swift kick in the pants).

"Well, first off, naming a cat after a famous TV dog violates almost every known rule of cat ownership" said Dr. Susan Pinkerton, an area animal psychologist. "To begin a relationship with that sort of insult is the equivalent of getting a new wife and calling her "Lassie" or "Rin-Tin-Tin" or whatever. That alone is outrageously insensitive and I am sure goes a long way towards fueling that cat's natural feelings of isolation and betrayal" said the huffy, indignant, absolutely correct Animal Psychologist a bit too peevishly. "And when I heard that he subjected that poor cat to a cat litter change that basically altered the overall scent experience from one that is reminiscent of the game-filled Serengeti plains in Africa to one that is more in tune with a cheap brothel in some low rent district of Paris, it was all I could do to hold myself back from just smacking him upside the head a couple of times!! How could he be so stupid?" said Dr. Pinkerton.

Luckily, the poor judgment shown by Purvis in this case means that in all likelihood the poor man will bring this bad decision-making and lack of overall awareness of others to his job, thus forcing his boss to either remove him from his current position or at least reduce his pay back to a level where, historically, he actually did less damage to himself, his co-workers and to the firm - and thus Purvis will be forced to go back to the cheaper, less flamboyant, totally natural all-clay cat litter and never again be able to afford that astoundingly bad "scented freak show" cat litter that appealed to him so strongly during the 4 second decision-making process while in "Pets-Mart" several weeks ago.

Mayor Forced To Relive Terrors Of High School After Brief Phone Call To Town Engineering Firm

The Mayor of Lamont was thrown back in time to that awkward, gawky stage of life where the opposite sex was a perplexing, unsolvable mystery (like that has changed!), acne outbreaks were the perpetual source of angst and worry and the looming specter of high school algebra was the ever present guillotine blade poised above his head, just waiting for some creepy dude in a black mask to give the signal to drop it and end his meaningless and wayward existence before he even had a chance to grow out of that most uncomfortable of stages. The Town, seeking a solution to a challenging question related to the water delivery system, had the Mayor call Dennis Fuller, President of Century West Engineering and good friend to the Town. "Well, I got him on the phone and explained the situation as we understand it" said the Mayor with big blobs of Clearasil dabbed in his acne prone areas. "Once he got a good picture of the situation, he began talking about flow rates and constant variables and 'if A = B and B = C then A must = C" and that sort of thing" he said with a definite 'deer in the headlights', chalky-faced look of dread and impending doom. "Dennis is the best, but when he got into the part about the pump rate being constant if the tank level is constant and that if we just calculate pump run time and factor in the pumps' average output we could arrive at the actual water delivery amount (assuming our sample time is long enough to avoid the distorting effect of outliers and natural variations in water usage based on sudden changes in the weather), I immediately felt the pimples literally sprout from my face, I began biting my nails again, my pants became about 3 inches too short (it would appear that 'high-waters' were all the rage back then amongst the more discerning 'nerd set' of which the Mayor was a founding member) and I immediately became obsessed about why none of the girls in school like me when that Buster Bodine is so popular - and he doesn't even have all of his teeth, for Pete's sake! Oh, it was horrible" whined the Mayor in a high, squeaky voice that he hasn't used since his voice changed at age 16.

"Well, we have to hand it to that whole Century West crew" said an unnamed Councilperson. "First off, we feel bad that we have to use that math laggard Mayor of ours to be the one to ask the questions on our behalf, but they are all so smart and adept at separating the "wheat from the chaff" when it comes to diagnosing problems of an obscure nature that sorting thru the Mayor's long, rambling, largely incoherent explanations and descriptions is like child's play for them. Plus, once we finally found the Mayor hiding in his closet, mumbling something about "not being a math person" and got him to tell us what Dennis said, it all made really good sense. I am not sure what we would do as a town without Dennis Fuller and Bryan Hicks and that whole Century West Engineering team. Having them on our team is proof positive that you really don't have to learn math in High School as long as you have the really smart people on your side when you are an adult" he concluded smugly.

Local Man Relives Painful Childhood Trauma At Recent Town Dinner Party

A local farmer/rancher, Festus Bodine, age 59, suddenly began hyperventilating and stammering incoherently at a recent gathering when cooked carrots were placed on the table just as the chicken Parmesan was being pulled from the oven. This vegetable-related trigger event unleashed decades of pent up frustration and anger long suppressed under the steely façade of an otherwise seemingly normal and solid citizen of good standing (by Lamont standards, that is). "Well, needless to say, we were all a little shocked at the sudden outburst!!" said an attendee at the dinner function. "The minute the baby carrots were placed on the table, a long stream of invective just spewed forth - and once the whole story came out, it really had nothing to do with carrots at all" he said. "I did not catch all of it since the suddenness caught me off guard and I was just trying to figure out what the heck was going on, but I guess the poor man has harbored deep seated resentment for his mom who, during his childhood some 40-odd years ago, tended to, like most Americans, cook vegetables until they were soft and mushy - thus destroying all food value and rendering one of the 4 major food groups "a living hell" for 10-year-olds across this great land" he said sympathetically. "Although details are still fuzzy, I guess a family staple was that somewhat dubious frozen concoction of peas, diced carrots and lima beans that were so popular at the time. He just kept droning on about hating carrots and peas his whole life because his mom's cooking technique rendered these two items limp and lifeless while this same 'over cooking" tended to make the lima beans hard, dry and chalky - and thus totally unsuitable for human consumption. I just think that the discontinuity of cooking several vegetables in the same pot for the same amount of time - and two of them turning to mush and the third becoming a dry, chalky nightmare just overwhelmed his formative understanding of how things worked. The poor man/child was confused - and this confusion led to anger and resentment that has lasted for all these decades. It was really very painful to watch, to be sure. Let's just hope he got it all out of his system!" concluded the diner who could go on for days about the moral unsoundness of Brussels sprouts.

"Oh, the anger I still feel at the thought of those horrid lima beans breaking apart in my mouth and draining every last bit of moisture (and thus making it darn near impossible to swallow) is oftentimes overpowering" said Festus. "First off, why anyone would mix two perfectly good vegetables with something so dissimilar and disgusting as the lima bean is beyond me - but they did. I think my family ate them more than most, but I still remember eating at my best friend's house and dreading the arrival of that evil medley of vegetables - because in order to be polite I had to eat them there without complaint. Even their dog would spit them out - leaving a pile of lima beans under the table right by my chair. They never said anything to me, but I am pretty sure his mom had to know what was going on at some point. The dang dog wouldn't even eat them!!! That says volumes, if you ask me! How can something become harder and chalkier the more it is cooked? That is just so wrong!" he bellowed, placing his hand over his racing heart in an attempt to calm himself and avoid some sort of stroke or seizure or whatever. "I know I have been unfair in my continued hatred of cooked carrots and peas, but once a person associates one thing with another, separating them into individual components and appreciating the relative value of each and judging them on their own merits is easier said than done. I have wasted a large portion of my life living in fear of the common lima bean - and thus missed out on many satisfying meals that included peas and carrots. It is really quite tragic if you think about it - but that childhood memory was so painful that there was really no other option for me, I guess." he concluded.

Whitman County Strikes AGAIN!!!

The Town of Lamont, nestled in a beautiful corner of Whitman County, WA, was once again given a reason to be thankful that, thru sheer chance and happenstance, they were blessed to be under the umbrella of such an outstanding, caring, professional county government that is really a model for how counties should operate. This latest example of Whitman County exceeding all known expectations involves an almost unbelievable program where a County employee arrives on site with a wood chipper and obliterates outrageous piles of branches and twigs that otherwise, over time, would cover the entire town and render travel of any kind darn near impossible. Tim Moran, one of the sharpest young men any of us have met in a while (our experience tells us that the overall quality of the Whitman County employees, especially that unbelievable Sheriff's Department, are well above the norm) was the point person for the operation and demonstrated a professional 'safety first' attitude, showed a strong and measured work ethic (working with old, fat guys always needs to be taken into consideration when you are a young 'whippersnapper' like Tim) and a positive, happy, solution-oriented attitude that just made the whole enterprise a whole lot of fun. (especially for the Mayor who seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time at or near the garden hose while the chips were actually flying)

"Whoa... If I had a dollar for every night I woke up in a cold sweat contemplating the possibility that our fair town was situated just a few miles over and in another county, I could afford to quit cutting my own hair, for Pete's sake!" said the obviously contrite and thankful Mayor. "We are so blessed to be under the thoughtful management of the Whitman County government, and cannot say enough about the services they provide and the common-sense, can-do attitude they bring to the table. Take this wood chipper program for example. In small towns like Lamont, little problems can become 'show-stoppers' in a hurry. Without the wood chipper program, the town would have had to resort to raising herds of beavers to just gnaw away at the unsightly stuff day in and day out, all year round. But anyone who has ever been downwind from a herd of beavers will quickly realize that that can be downright unpleasant, to say the least. Plus, we have several citizens with wooden legs, and that is just a recipe for disaster." he shuddered. "So, once again we are thankful for that whole Whitman County team and are just glad that our Town founding fathers, when they collapsed in an exhausted heap all those years ago, just didn't have the energy to stagger a few more miles to the north or west - and when they founded the Town, they did it in Whitman County. We owe them a lot" he sniffed, furtively wiping away a tear.

Town Unveils Plans For New "Century West Pavilion" To Be Built In Park

In a bold attempt to capture the very essence of the "Lamont Experience", the intrepid Town of Lamont unveiled their plans for putting a cover over the fire pit in the park so that it can enjoy year round use and provide even more outrageous levels of satisfaction to our discerning park visitors. "Well, when you think of Lamont, you think of class, sophistication and the cutting edge of the cultural experience, so we could not just build any old cover over our aging and often neglected fire pit" said the Mayor. "And given our outstanding relationship with Dennis Fuller and our town engineering firm, Century West Engineering, we just felt that something special was in order, especially since the Council decided to name the new structure the "Century West Pavilion" in honor of the fantastic improvements they have spearheaded in the Town" he said.

"So, needless to say, our design review committee had a huge job of sorting thru our options - which was no easy task given that architecture is a physical, multi-dimensional representation intended to capture the essence of the very culture that produces it. That rare blend of form and function, dovetailed in with the verve and spunk that Lamont has in such abundance was no easy task, indeed" said the Mayor, once again blathering incoherently as is his unfortunate custom. "And given that we became deadlocked between the current design and one that was an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower (that design had obvious advantages given the need to remove smoke from the population at large while still allowing room to grill burgers), I, as Mayor, had to make the tough call and serve as the tie breaker. I know there are any number of "second-guessers" and "Francophiles" who will grumble for a while - especially since Lamont is known as the "Paris of the Palouse" - but that is why they pay me the big bucks, I guess" he said. "Leadership has its rewards - but also its burdens" he stammered before venturing over to the park to move the sprinklers before the park becomes brown like last year. "And, now that we will have a covered structure in the park, maybe our dream of competing with "The Gorge" for the big name entertainment talent will finally be within our grasp. Plus, the 'Lamont Ballet Company' will now have a new place to perform, assuming the mosquitoes are not too bad, that is" he concluded introspectively.

Entire Town In Therapy After Local Handyman Offers "Help Your Neighbors For Free" Day

Although only the 2nd smallest town in the State and usually immune to such unspeakable horrors, the Town of Lamont came face to face with a scourge that has rendered many communities across this great nation completely devoid of all hope and spirit - leaving a path of desolation everywhere that belts and suspenders are in short supply and general 'handyman' type tasks need to get done. "Well, I love this great nation and wanted to honor our brave soldiers who made our way of life our way of life" said the 'handyman' in a rather circular and confusing manner . "So, although I normally charge the princely sum of $9 per hour, I figured it was high time I gave a little bit back to this community that has done so much for me - like forgetting about that unfortunate perm I had in high school and the time I decided to breed wolves with dogs and caused such a fuss" said Flem Snopes - a part-time ranch hand and general "Mr. Fix-It". "So, I passed word around that I was willing to work for free on Memorial Day. Well, needless to say every cheapskate and freeloader in town suddenly developed a water leak or creaking hinge or something. Oddly, almost the whole dern town took me up on it. I was really shocked at the overwhelmingly positive response!" said Flem. "I never knew I was so well respected in town. They must really admire and value my work product and professionalism!"

"Oh, the humanity! Oh, that was just wrong" said Mabel Bodine - a local farm wife - while wringing her poor dish rag like it was the neck of an unusually burdensome chicken or something. There is nothing in the world I love more than getting something for free, especially if that puts me in a dominant position over another human being - so when he came by and said he would work for nothing, I agreed immediately, naturally" she said. "So, I made up some story about hearing a weird noise under the sink and mentioned some strange odors that were coming from that general direction - even when my husband was not in the room - so he agreed to check it out for me. How was I to know that I would be exposed to a scene so horrible and inhumane that it would even turn 'me' from the path of wanting something for nothing. Do you realize what a powerful motivator that must have been? she said. "That was just so wrong. There needs to be a law against that sort of thing" she said indignantly. "I mean, how hard is it to keep your pants all the way up, for Pete's sake? Some views of the human body are just not meant to be shared with others - even in the confines of a sanctified marriage - let alone having them forced on you by some local guy you suckered into doing free work!"

"Well, it is not unusual for entire town's to participate in the same psychological event, but this is the first time a whole community commandeered a school bus fleet and showed up at my office all at the same time!" said Dr. Jessup Macintosh - and area psychoanalyst. "I mean, I have treated numerous people from the same small town in the Palouse, but this is the first time an entire town arrived for some serious psychological intervention" he said. "When I finally managed to squeeze myself into the overburdened waiting room - at first I had no idea what the heck was going on. All I heard were the mingled cries of "Oh, that was horrible" and "Ahh, I am blind, I'm blind, I say!" and, of course, the ever popular "I wish my husband looked that good from that angle" - but once I managed to sort it all out, I was able to get to the root of the problem. We often think that small towns are immune from the routine horrors that face much larger towns and cities, but this is proof that the whole 'crack epidemic" is truly national in scope - and obviously psychologically devastating in nature - even in little towns like Lamont" said Dr. Macintosh.