You would never guess that this girls name is Erika. She works as a librarian at the Supreme Central Library of Mitchieville. I caught up with her when she was having a break outside in the wonderful Global Warming weather we are having in Ontario right now. She loves her job in the library. She was a ghost writer for Ph.D papers before she came to us here in Mitchieville. Apparently, the market for ghost writers in academia is drying up now that most universities hire tutors, mentors, and life skills coaches for our diversity Ph.D candidates. Erika is studying chemistry out of personal interest, and is active in the Peenemunde club at the Library. If you are interested in Hypergolic fuels, come to the library and participate, learn, and explore. Welcome, Erika!

Another red head, but from a different bottle. Can you ever be really sure this day. Only Set, the Snake God knows for sure, let us face it. I never even think to ask, I only accept things at face, er, hair color, value. But you must ask yourself: does that affect the color of the hair on the voodoo doll you are using of your girlfriend? Answer: use some of her own dyed hair on the voodoo doll. Be a doll and if you have access to their bathroom, you have access to their heart.

What is this? Can anybody out there tell me? They sell them at the Library Services desk. Are they bookmarks? Maybe a great gift? You can get them at flea markets too. Go figure.

Milk awareness month begins as soon as the incompetent bureaucrats in Ottawa, Toronto, and whatever rats nest they call home; sends us the check. If you are one of those politically correct types with a lactose intolerance issue, come into Doctor Rasputin’s clinic for some stem cell therapy to clear up that little problem. The good doctor uses cat stem cells: they like milk. Maybe you should too. Having a lactose intolerance makes you vulnerable to genetically keyed weapons that are being developed, or so we hear. You want to be a winner in the Age of Latex. No need to be tied up with repression.

Cannot wait to get that new family of secret weapons out of the bunker and into action? Centralized governments are no match for those adapted weapons you looted off a crashed UFO? You have your minons decked out in spiffy minon outfits, a cross between Sons of Anarchy and, uh, Mormon Missionary? Indeed, time to unleash the face melting weapons, the attack ants, and the rabies dispenser in the restaurant hand dryer. And lose the blondes; red heads make better attack cadre. Crimson sky is the code word to unleash Total War upon those that violate Property Rights. The cookies are nearly done. Have a toasty fresh plate by your computer console in the bunker when you toggle off the Weapons of Madness.

Die, Main Stream Media, Die.

I miss high school. After high school I retained my interest in science. I became a convert to environmental justice. I would get laid just for going to save the critter meetings. But I am a broad spectrum caring person. It is easy to be concerned about cute, cuddly critters. A real environmentalist, such as my self, cares about other species. Riparian reptile ecosystem protection can be found in the teachings associated with the followers of Set, the Snake God. When I started to spread the teachings, conduct rituals, and act as augur for the Etobicoke temple of Set, the Snake God, I found an inner circle of believers whose caring extended to the most vulnerable of our endangered species: insects and large amoebii.

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Denouncing capitalism is just one of those things you have to do to get and keep your job and lifestyle of tax payer subsidized privilege. An acquaintance of mine went into a rant about the evils of capitalism; which narrowed down to the evils of corporations. Corporations. Corporations are evil. Which leads to the question: what do you mean by Corporations. As in, how do you define Corporations. Being so hork spit in the granola evil, they must be identifiable, eh what?
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The Mayor isn’t sure if this is Photochopped or not, and truth be told I couldn’t care less. It’s awesome.

For those of you with bad eyesight, haha on you. Just kidding. For those of you that can’t see what it says on Hosni Mubarak’s pinstripes, well, the pinstripes spell out Hosni Mubarak.

You can say whatever you want about Hosni Mubarak, but you can never say he wasn’t fashionable.

BOOYA!

I return to my community in full measure the horse dung and spitting peasants that they force me to endure as I go about none of their business. And the best way to do that is community service, and I do mine in the for profit charity sector. I volunteer at a Suicide Distress Call-Center, of my own creation. I intervene, more efficiently, than does the clumsy, over supervised, state apparatus. And I have people of good character help me in this work. My friend Conrad helps me at the Suicide Distress Call-Center line I run as the methods seminar from intermediate fraud at the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence.

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**It certainly wouldbe nice if Fenris revisited this piece and finished it. The Mayor doesn’t like posts that end with the word “and”. It leaves too much up in the air. This post is from 2.14.2010. Woulda coulda shoulda won some sort of award, and…

I have been bothered at my leisure with demands for production about the soon to be non-existance of Israel.  Yeah, sure, it is a tasty subject for satire.  It is grim and there will be quite a few war movies, great war movies of the future, to be written, scripted, story-boarded, filmed, edited, and shown.  So I will write quick, as there are only a few more paragraphs to go before I am done with you.

Today is the first Saturday after the Persians went public with the Bomb. They have the Bomb.  They have stated quite clearly the conditions under which they will use their Bomb.  This is quite Queensberry rules, and every dead Statesman you talk to on the Ouija board will tell you that what they say is true enough to take heed of, and if you heed their boundary conditions, the Bomb will not go boom.  So what?  So what does this have to do with Israel?  Those Persian atomic bombs can only hit Los Angeles, maybe San Francisco, certainly Honolulu.  Utah is safe.  So who cares?

Sure, Israel has the Bomb. They have the Bomb too.  Big Deal.  This problem is not a big problem as far as Military problems go.  Israel does not fear the Bomb.  They are more likely to fire their broadside first, and it just might happen in this wonderful decade of 2010.  But before we get to how earthquakes and atomic bombs are like each other in effect, I want to talk about the ruthless self-interest of nation states.

This is a bad thing for Israel, but not in the way you would expect. History suggests that powers that pay tribute, pay tribute for appeasement, effect, or subterfuge.

Appeasement. The defeated in war end up paying tribute.  A certain amount of the trillions invested in Israel every year has a proportion, a percentage that is simple weregild, blood money for a ’sorry we shot your Grandpa’ that comes with a rather nice greeting card.

Appeasement, but. But the great power that was enforcing this payment is under a leader of Hope and Change. He has been bowing to these other, lesser, tribute paying powers. Today, Saturday, the Final Decision Makers are listening to Opera at their weekend retreats, sipping the best, and deciding. Maybe the Israel money does not have to be paid. Not now. The Americans are choosing retreat as their policy. So weregild for Israel can stop.

Effect. Sure, your tribute money buys you some peace and contentment over close there to where the oil fields are. But lately, last few years, those shipping lines, pipelines, refineries are

I guess from the look of the bat at the cab window, it can only mean one thing: the Rocky Horror Picture Show is back in town!

I give that girl about 10 seconds before she rips the cab window out with those talons she’s sporting, grabs Patel by the neck and sucks like an industrial Hoover on berber carpeting until there’s only some clothing and nasty facial hair attached to the drivers seat. She has that look of someone experiencing angst, anger, and “give me my child support before I shove your testicles in a meat grinder” all at the same time.

Words in this post that The Mayor really likes using:

• sucks
• bat
• meat
• testicles
• shove
• fangs
• berber

It just wouldn’t be I’m Going To Kill You Week without a picture of Carl’s sister, Jennifer. Not only is she killing the dance floor, her underwear and my vision, but now she has her sights set on her ex-lover Marty. Death by bear hug? You bet your cotton socks it’s going to work out that way. Later, Marty, we hardly knew ya.

And that ends I’m Going To Kill You Week. Go in peace.

Carl’s brother, Carl Jr (no relation to the owner of the popular American fast food establishments), is NOT an animal lover. However, even though Carl Jr HATES animals, and especially cats, he would never dream of harming a hair on their little kitty heads.

OTOH, the Cat Lady, pictured, will most certainly kill you. Sure, it might not be an immediate death, but being around her will kill you. You see, the cat lady has SARS. Cat SARS. Deadly cat SARS.

Run, Carl Jr. Run, you beautiful bastard. Run like the wind before the cat lady sneezes in your face.

Carl Jr has been warned. You have all been warned.

I thought President Obama’s best line tonight in his SOTU address was this: “America stands behind the man that lost his job due to the bad business practises of his boss in Guinea”.

On behalf my fellow Guineans, it pleases us to know the average American is on our side should any of us ever get fired due to our bosses’ bad business practises. If that does happen, and our boss fires us due to his bad business practises, can we get one of those cool *Instant Immigrant* passes your government is handing out; like the ones that are being given away to the 200,000 illegal Haitians in your country?

I love the picture above, I’m sure I’ll have a 6′ picture of this on my front door the first time some dude comes by to take Clare on a date. That may seem a little severe, but that’s how we rock in Guinea.

If I was going to guess what Carl’s daughter looks like, I’d have to say identical to this young lady. Actually, I’d say it was this young lady.

I suppose it goes saying that right about now you have a chill running up the rugged ladder of your spine. I suppose it goes without saying that you will have some awfully weird dreams tonight that involves you running away from zombie children carrying knives. Whether you will be clad only in your underwear is anyones guess.

Havea great sleep, I hope to see you tomorrow.