We can have that wall
Recently a woman witnessed a motor vehicle accident and called the police for help. (This is a true story. We only say true things in the Courier, mostly.) After several minutes of mutual puzzlement, the caller and the police dispatcher figured out they were 3,000 miles apart.
The woman was in North Devon, England, and thought she was talking to the Barnstaple police. The dispatcher was in Barnstable, Mass., and could not figure out why none of the information the caller was sharing made a scrap of sense.
However, this is not an isolated incident. My cousin Andy, who actually lives in the English Barnstaple, said this odd story was all over the news there. He also has a similar story about his attempt to bury his dad, my uncle, earlier this year.
Andy called the coroner in the county of Suffolk to persuade him to release my uncle for burial, and found that he had called some coroner in Suffolk, USA. I suppose it could have been Suffolk County in Anywhereville.
Apparently what happened is that Andy did an Internet search for the coroner’s phone number on his own web-connected cellphone, and then allowed the naughty phone to dial the call without paying too much attention. Naturally, the phone dialed the U.S.
So let this be a lesson to you, dear reader. Don’t let your phone make calls for you. You’ll probably end up speaking to Vlad the Imputin of Russia, or his American stooge, Lord Trumpleton.
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Speaking of Lord Reginald K. Trumpleton, presidential nominee for the Wiggy Oaf party, I understand he has been outed as probably not paying a penny of income tax for the last half-million years. No wonder he has refused to come clean about his tax returns.
However, I don’t suppose many of us are exactly shocked to hear that Trumpleton is a bit of a dodger when it comes to supporting his country the way the rest of us are required to. We would be more shocked to hear that he had paid taxes.
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The other day I heard some rustling in the scrubby little bushes that grow at the bottom of these concrete towers at the foot of Mechanic Street, where I am forced to live. I looked over the battlements and saw a political candidate running away in the shadows down below. This has happened several times this year. They can get only so close to my gothic hideaway, then their nerves fail and off they run.
Usually they manage to leave little bits of campaign literature jammed in between the loose cement and the rusty steel rebar that is sticking out in various places, hoping, no doubt, that I will take pity and vote for them.
So I swung down from the parapet on my ancient knotted rope and took a peek at the little political flyer, and was utterly fascinated to discover that this particular candidate has discovered the Philosopher’s Stone of politics. He says quite plainly that he has worked out how to increase public services and cut our taxes, all at the same time. So we can get more from the government while paying less than we paid before. This is absolutely brilliant!
Even Lord Trumpleton has not yet figured this out. Surely his lordship should enlist this local lad immediately, and ask him to figure out how he is going to build that wall along the U.S./Mexico border and have the Mexicans pay for it? Then we could have all the wall we want.
Actually, I am sure we can have that wall and neither the Mexicans nor the Americans need pay a penny for it. Trumpleton is quite familiar with the necessary methods. Most likely he would engage a contractor, then say he is not happy with the finished wall and refuse to pay for it, rather in the way he has stiffed all those other people who have been unwise enough to work for him over the years.
We don’t get to use the word “stiffed” very often in the Courier, so you can see why I am making the most of the opportunity. Stiffed, I say.
Indeed, there is some evidence to suggest that when Trumpleton made his absurd statement about the wall along the southern border, he was actually thinking about Mexico, Maine, which would be a far easier place to seal off with a wall. An aide from his Wiggy Oaf party probably had to explain to him with diagrams and simple words that Mexico is actually a large country somewhere south of here.
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Speaking of all the marvelous things Trumpleton has done and plans to do for us, I must count a certain friend’s decision to register to vote for the first time as one of the more significant of Trumpleton’s many achievements.
The fact that my friend plans to vote against Trumpleton as often as possible only goes to show how generous his lordship is as he dishes out the necessary inspiration.