This is an image of Hurricane Earl, taken from the International Space Center, by astronaut Douglas H. Wheelock.

I don’t have an update on hurricane Earl at this moment, but if you look out your window and notice that your neighbours house is mysteriously flying down the street, then there’s a good chance Hurricane Earl has come-a-callin’ on your block.

Stay tuned to Mitchieville for more updates.

As my father use to say, “fool me once, shame on you; fool me 18 times, shame on me”.

It’s a little hard to read the article attached to the picture of Lady Goo Goo, but here’s what the explanation is for Lady Goo Goo’s sudden weight gain – “…a surprisingly flabby belly, likely caused “by stress hormones and too many carbs”, says Dr. Liu”.

In other words, she’s eating too much crap. Perhaps that’s a little technical, but if you need me to dummy that down a tad, email The Mayor and I’ll be happy to draw you a stick-person diagram.

Before the “stress hormones and too many carbs”, Lady Goo Goo was about 100lbs. Considering she’s only 5′1″, that’s a pretty small package (haha – “small package”), so even if Goo Goo gained 5-10lbs, that’s really going to show. Then again, I find it hard to concentrate on this post because I can hardly think of anyone more boring that this short, tubby, attention-seeking hobgoblin.

Here’s an interesting and true story about Carl Panzram and the 27thPresident of the United States, William Howard Taft. In 1907, Carl Panzram was spending time in Leavenworth’s Disciplinary Barracks for larceny. This was shortly after Panzram decided to join the US Army. At the time, William Taft was Secretary of War, and was the person responsible for approving Ponzram’s sentence. In 1920, Ponzram robbed Taft’s home, stealing his 45. caliber handgun, the same gun he used to kill 10 men.

Panzram was a real scumbag, here’s what he wrote in his autobiography:

In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and, last but not least, I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things I am not in the least bit sorry.

If you think the courts are lenient now, even after this admission, Ponzram only got 25 years in prison.

When he was in prison, he vowed to “kill the first person who bothers me”. He kept his promise, beating a prisoner to death with a tire iron.

For that crime, he was sentenced to death. After being sentenced, he threatened to kill human rights groups that attempted to appeal on his behalf.

He was hanged in 1920. As the executioner was putting the noose around Ponzram’s neck, Ponzram spat in his face and said, “I wish all mankind had one neck so I could choke it!”.

Sounds like someone was upset at the lack of funding for the arts, or the lack of access to midnight basketball courts. If only someone had given Ponzram a big hug, that would have definitely sorted him out.

If you woke up this morning and something like what you see in this picture is beside you in bed, then you have reached the pinnacle at your craft of abduction. The Mayor suggests to slowly slip the ether rag back over her face and get the hell out pronto.

I found out through seconds and seconds of research that this is Zaira Nara, an Argentinian born model. Of course. What did you think was going to come out of that last sentence, “this is Zaira Nara, an Argentinian born rocket scientist?”

Nope, she’s a model. From what I hear she might become one of the greatest models of all time, as she has mastered the art of standing very still while wearing a minimal amount of clothing.

Question – Rice Krispies and Rye – bad combination for The Mayor’s breakfast cereal?

Fenris will be the first to tell you, because he’s seen his fair share of charred and mutilated bodies while, well, let’s just say, “wiring things up” over the years, and Fenris always says this: pay your union dues. ALWAYS pay your union dues.

Ponder that. Meditate on those words. Tread carefully.

And so ends Safety Week. Mercifully.

That looked pretty impressive until The Mayor noticed that one mangled dog hanging from her maw. Somehow she managed to chew that one dog up, turn it around in her mouth and send it back out is anyones guess. But one thing is for sure: if she didn’t win America’s Got Talent, then The Mayor is swearing off TV for good.

At least there’s a 3 ton limit on that bridge, anything over that would be dangerous.

There’s a sign on that bridge that I’m having trouble reading, but I think the writing may be Russian…which would explain a lot. Russian engineers are miles ahead of western engineers. Imagine, we in the west stress ourselves over the mechanics of how a bridge is constructed, taking into account such frivolous things like how the forces of tension, bending, torsion, shear and compression are distributed through the structure, when really all we had to worry about is whether the 20lb or the 25lb cinder block is big enough to support an entire road sitting on the foundation.

Makes me feel kinda stoopid.

Oh right, this is Safety Week, there has to be a safety tip: Don’t throw banana peels on the ground, someone might slip on one and hurt their back.

Seems those cops really like the pants the chubby guy is wearing. Are they Calvin’s?

Having said that, the *pullers’* on both sides should be asking themselves one question and one question only: do we really want to win? I mean, it’s obvious from the picture, the guy being stretched like Elastic Man isn’t exactly the gold standard. You’ll probably have to feed him, too.

I think the non-sexual deviant, Peter Reid Graham - shown in this photo – would be better served if The Citizen put his picture on their front page and dedicated no less than a half cover spread to his innocence. Because let’s face it, Peter Reid Graham is not a sexual assualtist, never has been a sexual assaultist and most likely never will be a sexual assaultist. To put non-sexual assaultist Peter Reid Graham in the same category as the sexual assaultist Peter John Graham, well, that’s a grave injustice toward Peter Reid Graham. The non-sexual assaultist.

Where as Nancy knew Easy Rider was the correct Mystery Movie last week, everyone else seemed to be more interested in the aluminum pots Marc from Calgary was selling. Sure, they were some amazing aluminum pots, pretty much the best The Mayor has ever seen, but I found that treating Mitchieville like it was the poor man’s EBay, well, that kind of took some of the shine off of last week’s game. Not to diminish the correct guess Nancy came up with, that was sheer brilliance, but what I’m trying to do is put everything in context. There, that seems to have done it. 4   7   3.

The Mayor loves a good western. Truth be told, The Mayor even loves a terrible western. And I’m not talking about those delicious sandwiches you usually order at your neighbourhood greasy spoon. I’m talking about the American classic western movie. What a wonderful and pretty much dead genre.

The Mayor loves westerns because The Mayor believes westerns depict how I want the world to be. I’m not talking about the unwashed masses, the dirty streets or the terrible, harsh booze. I don’t want to live in Detroit. I’m talking about how good should always triumph over evil. How if you’re a nasty critter the chances of a bullet finding your skull are about 100%. How there is a code, and that code should never be broken. How a handshake is your word. How real men handle adversity and fight for what is right.

Westerns aren’t popular amoung the chatting classes for precisely the reasons The Mayor loves them. “What, the males aren’t discussing their feelings? They don’t seem to have any daddy issues? Whaaaaaaaa, where are the half crippled East Indian women with limps? Where is the diversity?”

I got your diversity right here (I’m pointing to my crotch, btw).

Having said that, here’s an Audrey Hepburn, Burt Lancaster, Audie Murphy, Lillian Gish western from 1960. This is a movie that actually touches upon racism against American Indians. For a movie produced in 1960, that’s pretty amazing. Not only that, but the movie was nearly not made because Audrey Hepburn broke her back during the filming and the entire movie had to be suspended until she recouped.

Anyway, enough about The Mayor and how I look in assless chaps.

Plot -  An old man, Abe Kelsey (Joseph Wiseman), claims that a member of a thriving frontier family, Rachel Zachary (Audrey Hepburn), is actually a Native American, secretly adopted as a child. Rachel’s true brother and a gang of Kiowas return to claim her, saying that she is one of their own, stolen in a raid. The dispute results in the rest of the whites turning their backs on the Zacharys when the truth is revealed by the matriarch, Mattilda Zachary (Lillian Gish). Ben Zachary (Burt Lancaster) (who is in love with Rachel, with Rachel feeling the same way) tries to defend the family, but Cash (Audie Murphy), his hotheaded brother, is unable to deal with his “sister” being a “red-hide Indian.” He leaves, but returns to help them fight off an Indian raid, during which Rachel commits a violent act, thus choosing sides once and for all.

What an interesting post, Mr Mayor, you have come a long way in your six years of blogging.

Why thank you, you are too kind.

Which mystery movie is this?

Barry isn’t as slick as Barry thinks he is. He should have eased into it a bit better than that. Rub some hay on her ass first, maybe get her to wear one of those 3/4 length horse blankets, or seductively lick a few apples in front of her. But going for the whole enchilada in one fell swoop? C’mon Barry, you aint Secretariat.