So is that all it takes to get three hots and a cot?!

Have you all heard the latest? Seems a new transient has made her way to Shandaken. Apparently, she took up residence in the town's Gazebo, or as I refer to it, every drunk's man-cave.

Well after receiving a call of complaint, the Police arrived to tell this newbie to "move along" and offered assistance in the form of either a trip to a shelter or a bus ticket to points elsewhere (that's Saint Elsewhere to those who remember), but no, that wasn't good enough for this obviously posh, ne'er do well woman. No sir, she required a hotel room.

So fine ,get a room, right?

But wait! Homeless Hanna (my name for her, not sure what her majesty's real name is, but I bet it's something like Tiffany or Cassandra or maybe Queffa-lee if her parents were southern) didn't have the money for a room. She had given all of her money to Bernie Madoff and lost her Park Avenue Penthouse, so one could certainly not expect her to rough it in a shelter.

Now comes the really interesting part. A call was made to our Supervisor from the Town's welfare officer. Seems that our new homeless royalty would not leave town until proper accommodations were procured for her. Well, Supervisor DiSclafunny decided to put her up in the Appletree Inn. Yummy. She resides there right now. And guess on who's dime, Kiddies? Yup, urine and mine! How long is this going to go on for? And what if she tells a friend and they tell two friends, and so on and so on (my tribute to Farrah, God rest her soul, remember that shampoo commercial?) Are we going to be putting up all transients who come our way, 'cause if we are, we're in trouble as we have more crazies migrate here on any given day than New Paltz and Woodstock combined.

So, great thinking, Petey! Good going, way to tighten the belt, now you're gonna answer to Vinny for this one Pal! AND THE REST OF US CITIZENS WHO ARE SICK OF YOUR SHIT!

Spread the word folks, Homeless live and eat free in SHANDAKEN courtesy of Peter DiSclafani and the broken backs of the residents!

Keep giving me these Gifts Petey, I love to spread the news!!!!!

What? what was that sound?

...ah yes. The sound of another nail in the coffin. I loves me that sound

An open Letter to DiSclafani

It was brought to my attention that Mr. DiSclafunny has joined the ranks of my fans, and is now a rabid reader of my posts. I'm so honored! So, to that matter, let me use this opportunity to address Petey directly:

Dear Peter,

Your term as Supervisor (or, as I like to refer to it, your "reign of terror") is coming to a close. While I'm sure you have enjoyed the perks of office (the sense of power, the inflated sense of self, etc.) I must believe you have learned at least a few things. Not really important things, but things none the less. I think you have probably learned them from this and the other site dedicated to your numerous foul-ups and snafu's, because you certainly have learned nothing from your experiences sitting in front of the masses, as you seem to not hear anyone or anything said at the monthly meetings. Let's go over how you've conducted yourself since you took office.

In the very beginning there was the "Jane Todd slander newsletter" that went out just days before election. You publicly denounced it, and even sent out your own newsletter saying so. Funny thing is, both newsletters were mailed from the same place. They had the same identifying location stamp posted to them. Oh, but weren't you the none too bright wolf in sheep's clothing, huh?

"I'm a nice guy" was the image you portrayed for the first fifteen minutes of your reign. After that, everything that came out of your mouth was a lie, and pity those that did not kowtow to you, because they were either harassed by your small faction of nuts, or they were threatened with law suits or attempts were made for their job loss. Anyone who speaks out publicly against you risks having their personal lives made public with added innuendo, courtesy of people like Mzzz. Herrmann, who enjoys the status as Shandaken's own David Blaine, making something out of nothing that just isn't there. Did you get that? Just checking. What's shakin' in Shandaken, indeed. And don't try to convince yourself that this is a party issue or republican attack. People from all political backgrounds are fed up with your incompetence.

You have not used your time wisely, nor have you improved the lives of the residents you swore to represent. Don't forget, you took this position to work for all of them, not to have them fear your next scatter-brained, idiotic move. Instead of listening to what the majority of residents want, you instead, listen to the small group that sit in front of you at each meeting, addressing their needs, and making their policies and agenda your utmost priority. But, have you noticed the dwindling numbers of supporters for you? Have you seen how the ranks have thinned out? I'm not sure you have, as you have been too busy focusing in on the small group that sits in front of you, smiling like Jim Jones followers, waiting for that dixie cup to be passed around (drink it, I beg you all, drink it).

You need to focus on them, because if you don't, you might actually see the reality. You might know that while you have that small group there for you, the majority of people do not like what you have done as Supervisor. They think your policies are horrible, your lies never-ending, and your over-all lack of professional conduct at meetings disturbing and an embarrassment to our community as those from the outside look in, and laugh at the joke that is your administration. Your ignorance will be the opposition's gain. I loved how you tried to convince Vin Bernstein that the people who complained about the Farm Stand law proposal were only a small number, and that those that actually approve of it stayed home. Where the hell were you the night that Town Hall was standing room only,supporters outweighing those for the law (Maureen Millar, I think)? I think you were trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him of that. A gleam of reality must has slipped into your brain, but you were feverishly pushing it right out.

I will continue this site, and dedicate each posting to your lack of intelligence and compassion for the people of Shandaken. I will remind them at every opportunity that you have ignored their calls for open and honest government. I will remind them that you have served the needs of your friends and a small interest group, and not the majority of the residents. I will remind them that you have used your position to give friends jobs, in addition to the numerous questionable decisions made.

Unlike some other people, Peter, I DO NOT FEAR YOU OR YOUR HANDLERS. I have no reason to. I am watching you closely Peter. I am closer than you think. I know many things, and as the veil thins ever so quickly, so will others. I will be sure of that.

So take this open letter as you wish, and do with it what you will. My impression is you will not use this opportunity to learn from your mistakes, instead you will use it to try to gain favor with those few who may remain on the fence about your administration of the town (or as I like to refer to them, the uninformed and under educated in local politics). However you take it, know that what will be best for the people of this town, is to let someone else who knows law (local and otherwise) and wants what is best for all the people, take the reigns. They will do a good job, you won't.
"Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's,"... and to the people of Shandaken, that which is theirs.

-Helena

Brenda Lee said it best

palliate

PRONUNCIATION:

(PAL-ee-ayt)

MEANING:

verb tr.:
1. To ease the symptoms of a problem without fixing its cause.
2. To make an offense appear less severe by excuses or apologies; extenuate.

So, I think this means that I must now Give our Supervisor a new nickname. Henceforth, he shall be known as

Palliatin' Pete.

He is so very sorry for the following:

His screw up with the repeat Ferrandino Report

His attempts to repeatedly pass laws illegally

His lack of knowledge of his own town's laws

His complete lack of professionalism when conducting town meetings

His inability to keep records of calls and e-mails made to anyone for anything

I honestly believe he is sorry, but mostly sorry that he is not getting away with the lies so easily.
I have a strong feeling Mr. DiSclanfunny is about to crack. He is scrambling to get things accomplished in the few months left before election day. So very amusing to watch. Sit back, pop the popcorn, crack open a cold one, and watch it unfold.

By the by...I miss Fanci Colon. Where are you? I can't do this alone. You're the original.

Disaster Recipes (a true tale of Snoris and "the other white meat")

Just as there are multiple recipes for meatloaf, so are there many recipes for disaster. In meatloaf, the most common ingredients are meat and eggs. Not so in Disaster.

The two most common ingredients in disaster are ambition and stupidity. When you mix those two ingredients when baking a supervisor or councilman candidate, and add a dash of indifference from the public, you have a recipe for the perfect disaster. Oddly enough however, both this recipe and the recipe for meatloaf will serve 8. Only 8.

Can anyone think of one contribution that Snoris Bartlett has offered up during her term as Councilman? Just one. I only asked for one...come on, anything? Oh, yeah, she did something for the dogs, right? Kinda. Yeah, she can count on the dog vote. How about the people? What has she done for you lately?

Has she done anything for your neighbors?

She saunters into every meeting, snug in her rumpled fuzzy sweater, carrying multiple canvas bags filled with God knows what (I imagine it's loose, half filled bags of friskies and parts to old fountain pens), looking like she just arose from an afternoon slumber with her cats and favorite book ('how to win friends and influence people'). Once in a blue moon, you might hear her muddle something like "I wasn't aware of that" or "we should be looking into that", that is when the members of the public remember that she is present at the meeting and actually address her. Otherwise, she is content to spend her time, hiding behind her fuzzy rumpled sweater, her head slunk down into her shoulders as low as human anatomy will allow. When the seldom question that is directed at her does happen, her head slowly rises from the shoulders, like a turtle checking to see if the coast is clear, her eyes widen with the anticipation that she might actually have an answer this time.

Peter D. The other Peter D. As in DiSclafani, not to be confused with PeterDimodica, who is the same person, but through advances in modern science, can be seen in the same room at the same time as the other Peter, much like Michael Jackson and LaToya can be seen at the same time too. For the purposes of this story, we will Call DiSclafani The other white meat, or "towm" as that is easier to type than his last name after multiple shots of Reserva 1800.

"Towm" bounds into the meeting hall each month, flannel shirt tucked tightly into his freshly pressed blue jeans, timberlands (sized men's four I believe) with lifts placed discreetly inside the soles. Sippy cup hidden carefully behind the note pad that doubles as his crayon paper when the coloring books are full. God as my witness, on more than one occasion I've seen a comb sticking out of his back pocket.

As he takes his place at the table, he looks upward, his dull, unimaginative eyes catch the glare of the fluorescent lights above, casting a twinkle that shines through the room like the bat signal calling out to Kathy Nolan to come to his rescue upfront (each meeting must start this way, otherwise Kathy is left sitting atop the tallest structure in Shandaken, which of course is the cell tower, which stands as vacant as Pete's head).

Anymidget, this bitch, I mean "Towm", then sits before all those who gather to watch the train wreck (sorry for the pun, so soon after the DC tragedy) that will be another monthly town board meeting, and smirks his way through a series of controversial subjects like laws regulating farm stands, laws regulating debris, laws regulating women's menstrual cycles...just seeing if your paying attention. Don't think that isn't next, though. Sometimes when he smirks, he slants his mouth up on the right. Sometimes he slants it to the left. Mostly though, he just wiggles his mustache and watches the crumbs from his lunch fall to pad below.

This my friends, is the first two ingredients in "Disaster". Ambition and Stupidity. You figure out which is which. As if it really mattered.

Now for the other important ingredient. The complacent/indifferent public. Add, and mix well.

DISASTER!

Stop worrying about hurting someone's feelings. Expose the lies. Expose the conflicts of interest. Expose the corruption. If you go to one agency and they don't listen, go to the next. And if they don't listen, you continue until SOMEONE DOES. Because eventually, someone WILL. Why? Because it is election time for someone somewhere, most of the time, and if they are ambitious enough, wishing to further their political career, they might just find our cries of corruption worth a look.

Our current regime has a plan for the masses (all 8 of 'em) that wish to stop all progress in the mountains. The cost will be our way of life threatened, our taxes skyrocketing, our questions blocked by politicians who have no answers,with only more laws to offer up and force down our throats. And do you know who is to blame?

We are.

"We" being those of us who sat back and watched the slander take place in the last election, and kept quiet. We didn't want to stoop to their level. We didn't want to harass their candidates, we wanted to appear civil during uncivil times.

What we failed to recognize is that we were at war, of some sorts. A war to protect our way of life. And as we all know, in war there is no civility. There is no room for it. Those that remain civil during war, get to wear the cleanest gloves in their caskets. The gloves must come off, kiddies.

On the lighter side, and just for laughs...

Supervisor Pete DiSclafunny has announced he applied for, and received, stimulus funds to help secure a new bridge for the town troll to live under. The above photos are a few of the choices for said troll to acquire with federal stimulus funds. We all wish the troll a lovely new life under the bridge of her new home in a new town.

As you can see, one or two need some work, but there are Grants available for trolls to have rehab work done to their bridges. She can apply at her friendly neighborhood Housing Agency (in which ever town or state she relocates to), if they are currently running a program, the troll is in luck!
One comes complete with a construction vehicle.

Good riddance Troll!

Wow, the bullshit runneth freely this week

So, if any of you have the pleasure of being in the Independent line, or Democratic one, you must have received the pleasure of having the latest doozie of a newsletter dropped into your mailbox.

Apparently, Peter has accomplished so much that the newsletter had to use THE SMALLEST FONT EVER to fit all of his bullshit in.

"We have done well," it starts, giving one the impression that something was actually accomplished. Look closely and you will see that some little goodies Petey is trying to take credit for are things accomplished before the imbecile took office. "Now is the time to get involved," it continues. Yeah, read between the lines, "now it's election time, so please vote for me, please please please!"
Let us dissect this one, just for shits and giggles.

SHANDAKEN IN BLOOM GARDEN TOUR:

Between the lines editions: Pete took away flowers on main street and elsewhere (remember, someone had to pay for that sign directing traffic to his business) so they are using someone's private property, that you can tour...FOR A PRICE. $20 bucks gets you a tour of some pretty flowers, and pays for Pete to have a job for two more years! These imbecilian are pretty crafty, huh?

BBQ:
Between the lines edition:

Eat our meat, then meet our candidates. Hmmmm, yummy. Hand shaking with sticky sauce fingers, sounds like a fun time. Let's keep the sticky theme going people.

PETE'S MESSAGE:

Between the lines edition:

"Hey guys, just checking in with my first ever newsletter. Yeah, I know what your thinking, it's election season, so here he is, mustache and all. But seriously, Kit and I wanted to...I mean Rose and I wanted to thank our supporters and let you know about some stuff that either happened before I took office or that Rob Stanley accomplished, that I wanna take credit for, so here goes...

Through no help from me, the ambulance surpassed mine and Jerry Perlman's expectations. We both huffed and puffed about their recent award (can't really remember what it was for, but it musta been good, 'cause I was supposed to do a presentation and everything, but I muffed it up on purpose as not to embarrass our former ambulance head guy, Jerry. Remember, he predicted their demise should he and Lisa leave) and I think that their success can be summed up in just a few words, "I had no involvement whatsoever!"

Next. I want to say the DEP has approved all of my attempts to thwart the new sewer system. They worked with me tirelessly in not getting the needed services to the residents of Phoenicia. Mike Ricciardella's will be done. Not to forget Paul Pettinatto. He worked diligently at smearing the reputations of good people, many who support his business, all to keep Phoenicia the shit hole that it is. I am proud of what I have not accomplished with the infrastructure of this town, and if re-elected, I will continue my streak of non-accomplishments for two more years, I promise!

The new seasonal produce law is a good law. Okay, I know what you're thinking, we didn't actually pass that law yet, but WE WILL, so I wanted to put it in anyway, never mind I'm jumping the gun. I plan on crushing the backbone of small business in our area, as long as they are foe, and will continue this if elected this November... I mean re-elected.

Let me throw in a message about Shandaken Day, as an after thought. I can take credit for this too, if I just mention it and ask you to participate. Doris and I will show up on that day, tell you about all the work we have done, and shake hands with people, even shake their babies too. I know how to handle kids, DON'T HAVE 'EM! HAHA, just kidding! Rose loves them, that's why she married me. We will also tell you about how Doris and I created the internet, with Al Gore's help, and how we are currently doing the work on the bridge in Mt. Tremper.

Lastly, I've changed my platform from "open and transparent government" to "accessible and responsive" as I was being lambasted by the public over my refusal to actually live up to those terms. Well, actually, I'm not living up to "responsive", but...we do have a handicapped ramp in town hall, soooooo...accessible is a go!

Anyway, please come to the caucus and let's smear Rob, Jack, and Pat. Let's smear 'em good! Let's throw in a Jane Todd reference or two, and let's say SHARP is the devil and get them do-gooders outta here, they make us look bad! They make ME look bad! Rob attended the Association of Towns classes, and actually knows our town law and uses big words. Jack is an edjumkated (not sure of the spelling, but he got good schooling in him) guy, and can use his words goodly. Pat, shit, Pat is a lawyer, and kinda classy, and she is one who uses big words too.

Kat would like you all to know that he is ready for a fight, he has been working out, lifting weights and studying big words. He will be ready! We also now have a new motto that will be going on our pins and will be distributed at the caucus:

Fear Kat...he will cut a bitch!

Thanks everybody, thanks for your time, i gotta take a nap, I just spilled my sippy-cup, shit, Rose will kill me.

Living in God's country

You know, I never thought much about moving to the mountains as a child. I remember the long rides up, passing cows and horses, nice homes and dilapidated ones. My parents would happily chat on about what they would do once we got to "God's Country".

Now, granted, much of my trepidation of coming to the heavenly kingdom had much to do with the fact that, since most prisoners found God in prison,where he apparently chose to reside in a 4x4 cell with toughened inmates, I wasn't sure what I would be in for in his "entire country". What would God's inmates look like in his country?

When my eventual forced transplantation took place, I thought of this place less and less of God's country, and more of just a mountain retreat. There were quirky neighbors, and you couldn't run out for milk late at night if you ran out, and the raccoons would ALWAYS try to abscond with your garbage, but it beat city living, right? You said hi to your neighbors, and you got along, and if you didn't you just ignored each other. You knew at least one person who owned a horse, or had chickens, and you always got fresh eggs if you wanted them.

Then something weird happened. Well ,something awful happened first. September 11 2001 marked the beginning of the end of the way we all lived. Not just here, but nationally. Internationally even. We didn't feel so safe anymore, and right before our eyes our little town changed.
First, panicked people from the city came up in droves, buying up all the real estate that they could. Prices went out of control. However, that did not discourage the escapees, and the mass exodus continued.

Changes were happening quickly and most seemed out of our control. Those of us who transplanted here nearly 30 years ago, adapted to the way of life up here, we didn't come running in like gang busters, we just changed to fit in. But there was a different kind of transplanted type that was coming now. People from far and wide made Shandaken their home, having either been kicked out of where they came from, or escaped for other reasons, like they couldn't hack it anywhere else, because as you know, all forms of dysfunction are encouraged here. Matter of fact, Shandaken has it's own motto, challenging the one from Ellis Island.

"Give us your medicated and confused, your psychotic and hungry, unwilling to work, and we will comfort and provide for them."

Droves of whiners and thieves, takers and snarky pricks, showed up, planted their asses firmly into the town, and have upset the apple cart ever since. They wanted to escape from 'whatever' yet, brought everything they were running from, with them. Then, slowly they began to dictate the way families (who lived here for generations), would now live. The NIMBY crowd had arrived. On a side note, I also blame them for the new breed of aggressive jersey bear that replaced our mildly annoying raccoons,as the garbage pirates.

The NIMBY (or, NIMBOSYLS/NIMBOSYLIAN) crowd doesn't like change. Unless they initiate it, of course. They got their piece of the pie, but now they want to stop everyone else from enjoying the very things they get to. NO development, and if you want a job, go to Kingston. No cell service, it might cause their kid's hamster to grow an ear on it's ass. Sexual predators and hardened criminals find a haven here, as the astonishing lack of communication, on every level, is virtually non existent, and the slickest criminals know that is the best place to reside. Backed by NIMBOSYL activists, offenders have more rights to privacy than the innocent people the NIMBOSYLIAN have decided to harass.

So, kiddies, is this what you want for your town? Do you want this shit to continue? Vote for Pete and Snoris (ha ha, get it?) if you crave this particular way of life. If you want your neighbor to have control over every decision you make about your yard landscaping. If you want your local town government to be more concerned with the possible proliferation of farm stands and not give two shits about the possible start up of porn shops and tit-tay bars (most likely because they will benefit from them).

Use your noodles, my peeps. And USE YOUR WORDS! Tell your friends. Oooo! Tell your friends that Pete is opening a tit-tay bar, he will either lose big, or win bigger! No, tell them Mary Herrmann will be doing the pole dancing... that will lose him the election FAST!!!

Just a thought

-Helena

Slight of hand

I like magic. I like smoke & mirrors. I wanna know where the rabbit is coming from.

I'm a magician's worst nightmare.

When everyone is watching the magician's right hand, Helena is looking at his left one. Helena is keeping track of where the magician's assistant is sticking things too. Where did she put that silk scarf? Helena watches everything.

It was not long ago that slight of hand was played out here in Phoenicia. Phoenicia's own David Copperfield, Mike Ricciardella, made an entire sewer project disappear before our very eyes. With a skill not seen in these parts for many years, a veil of deceit was carefully placed over the prospective project. A few swirls of his magic wand, some magic incantation was said ("$10,000 to hook up to laterals") and POOF! Gone.

Why is Mike so dead set against a sewer? Why would he be willing to give away a system that would only improve his business and the quality of life for residents? Does he really care about his neighbors?

There is more to come on this one soon kiddies, I promise you.

The rabbit will be out of the hat.

Sorry friends, Helena was held up and could not post for a couple of days. But I chewed through my ropes and broke free, and now I'm here to once again unleash all of my fury. Ha! I almost wrote 'furry', what a hoot. Helena is sipping wine, can you tell.

Anydrunk, as I was trapped in my prison, I decided to pen a poem (Poem a pen after a bottle of Robert Mondavi). I think you will enjoy it, and I want you lovelies to try to guess who the subject of the poem is, and send me the answers. The winner gets a prize (not really, Helena is drunk, don't listen to the promises she makes tonight).

'The witch that I know' By Helena Handbasket-Weaver
(don't judge me, I like to use my hyphenated name when being pretentious) .

There was a lonely pitiful woman who lived in Pine Hill
No one paid attention to her, she knew not what to do
a loneliness in her heart she knew not how to fill
Then one day out loud she spoke mean of a neighbor
and found in a horrid crowd of people she knew
though dubious in nature she was now in their favor

Her husband stayed gone for long periods of time
being around her filled him with apprehension
With this arrangement The witch was fine
for the object of her desire was only some attention.

One day she looked in the mirror and saw a strange reflection
A witch stared back from what was once a normal lady
From this awful strange site there was no protection
Her awful looks a result of her actions so shady

The hurt and pain she caused others now came back to haunt her
in contorting and disfiguring her looks so grotesque
That this might happen to her it did not occur
Did she think it would make her look statuesque?

The end

Paul unSmart interviews Candidates Stanley and DiSclafani

The Phoenicia Crap times is going to be running the following article in an upcoming issue. Paul Smart (yeah, I smirk each time I say it too) sat down with Rob Stanley, current councilman and Supervisor candidate, and Peter DiSClafani, current window licker incumbent. It was billed as an attempt to report openly and transparently. Something like that.

PS: So, Pete, let's start with you, as you won the coin Toss

Rob: Coin toss, there was a coin toss?

PS: Yeah, Rob, ahh, it was before you showed up, and Pete called heads, and that was what fell face up.

Rob: Uhm, okay Paul.

PS: So Pete, is it true that through your power of the supernatural, you once parted the waters of the Esopus creek to assist a troop of boy scouts in crossing it?

Pete: What? I don't remember that...(Paul kicks Pete in the leg forcefully)...Oh, that! Yeah, I remember that time.

PS: So, basically you're always helping people.

Pete: Umm,yeah yeah. I help people

PS: What else have you done to help people?

Pete: I help people.

Rob: I think he is looking for another example, Pete

Pete: Oh, uhh, I helped boy scouts by pushing them in the water of the creek an.....

PS:You parted the water, right?

Pete: Can I take a nap now? Kathy isn't here and I'm not sure what I'm allowed to say.

PS: Alright, let me move to Rob. Rob, isn't it true you abuse puppies and killed a man in a drunken bar fight, using a broken beer bottle and stick of gum?

Rob: Ah, NO, where the hell did you get that info?

PS: I'm just reported what was told to me via the 'grapevine' of Shandaken.

Rob: You mean Mary Herrmann and Kathy Nolan, right?

PS: Ahh, well, they are both very informed women. Neither has a job and has all the time in the world to come up with this stuff...it's gold, Rob, gold I tell ya!"

Rob: next question, halfwit.

Pete: Uhm, okay, how...

Rob: Not you, you're the moron, Paul's the halfwit.

Pete's mustache/KAT: Who you callin' moron?

PS: Okay, this is getting out of hand, Pete, Rob, Kat, calm down.

Kat: Paul, I'm thirsty, I want a drink.

Paul: I have to ask questions Kat, after this is over.

Kat: Paul

Kat: Paul

Paul: WHAT?!

Kat: I want a drink. I wanta Fanta.

Rob: Paul ,I have work to do, can we get on with this.

Pete: I think my mustache is writing something down.

Rob: Yeah, Pete, it is. The paper and the pen under your nose is a good indication of that.

Paul: Rob, what would you do to improve the economy of the town.

Rob: First, I would work on making the much needed improvements in our infrastructure, then..

Pete: That's a funny word. What does it mean?

Rob: Shhhh, shhh, little man, go back to sleep.

Pete: But I wanna know stuff, I wanna I wanna I wanna!!!

Rob: Shhhh, shhh there will be plenty of time to learn...like after you leave office.

Kat: Rob, here, hand this note to Paul.

Paul: What is this, Kat?

Kat: A list of my demands. If they are not met, I'll make hell fall upon you by calling out the three witches of Shandaken, Kathy, Mary, and Judith. They will work their black magic and bring about the downfall of the town.

PS: how will they do that?

Kat: By spreading lies and innuendo...much like the last election, only, only, meaner.

Rob: Can I go now? I have work to do.

Pete: Yeah, I gotta work too!

PS: Really?

Pete: Yup, Kathy drives me in, leads me into the office, makes sure I have my sippy cup in one hand, by coloring book in the other. The crayons are usually there already, Patti sets 'em out for me the night before.

Kat: Paul!

PS: WHAT KAT!!

Kat: Will you meet my demands?

PS: Yeah, okay, a fanta...do you want that in a sippy cup?

Kat: Of course you fool. Now go!

PS: Pete, what would you do to improve the economy in the town?

Pete: I think I might try to do stuff.

PS: Uh, like what Pete, I know you must have great ideas?

Pete: blank stare

PS: Come in, Pete, don't be shy, share your great ideas!

Pete: blank stare

Rob: Come on dude, say something...anything?

Paul: Aren't you working on getting stimulus money for....

Pete: Oo, oo, I know, I would give everyone in the town a job IN TOWN HALL. Yeah! Then I would lower taxes, but by telling people to only pay, like, thirty dollars each, and we could all go to Red Lobster for lunch on Fridays 'cause that would make us get along better an...

PS: alright, even I'm sorry for this stupid bastard now. Pete, go back to being Rose's 'beard' and be the short order cook in the restaurant. Leave the real thinking to the real men.

Pete: Uhm, do you mean Rob, Paul?

PS: Uhm, no, I actually meant your mustache.

Kat: That's right bitch, I been runnin' this town so far, I'll keep doin' it.

Rob: Yeah, okay, I'm outta here. That thing is starting to scare me.

Kat: You betta be scared! YOU ALL BETTA BE SCARED!

After submitting this interview, Paul Smart mysteriously disappeared. He was last seen arguing with Pete's mustache in the lot of the Catskill Thorn. Only God help him now.

Phoenicia Rag's headlines

The Phoenicia Ragstactic News Paper, you know, the one that reports their opinion professionally and in a libelous fashion, is now the ONLY newspaper reporting on issues we care about. Due to the fact that the average person can not decipher the code that is used in the newspaper, I have taken the liberty of showing some examples of real headline and story titles and translating the actual facts from a Town Board Meeting.

MONEY MONEY MONEY
Town Board pushes good feelings, cost savings, criticisms continue.
Translation:
Pete smirked a lot. Twice he shouted "So what"! Residents questioned Peter on procurement policies and procedures, his mustache shot back a snarky response and refused to answer any further questions. Pete then refused to consider allowing funds to be used to help with the purchase of a star climber for Phoenicia's park, dashing the hopes and dreams of small children everywhere. Savings to the town tax-paying residents? $2000-3000 (of funds that will sit there unused) The cost of losing an election due to crushing kids hearts? PRICELESS
THE END OF AN ERA The Townsman stops presses after 53 years served as local civic institution.
Translation:
Nanny nanny poo poo. OH, shit ,wait, we're next.

ZONING FOR FARM STANDS Public hearing on proposed law draws fire from local businessman.
Translation: Okay, it was more than one business man complaining, more like one hundred, but, who wants to hear that. Hey, did anybody notice Pete changed his mustache wax?

BACK IN THE LIMELIGHT- Gitter makes rare appearance before a neighboring municipality's board.
Translation:
Shit, we've been assuming he was dead and was now a head in a large jar of formaldehyde. No problem, we'll just resume the rumors he is paying off government officials to get the project up and running. Hey, lets force him to do a ten year carbon foot print study, he'll definitely be a head in a jar by then!

BUDGET WORRIES- Hit the town level.
Translation:
We is SCREWED. Three Ignorami are running the town, kiss your property values good bye.

On a more serious note...

The rain came down in buckets on the sleepy town of Shandaken today, like God washing the stink of Pete off the land. Things were strangely quiet. Not much action on Main Street Phoenicia, and the same could be said for the rest of the town. Any discussions of importance that took place, most likely took place in the safe confines of some back-lit, hidden den of iniquity (i.e., back part of Sportsman's) with carefully chosen participants. Any conversation overheard would have pertained to weather and sports, not politics and strategies.

Yes, they're being careful. would you like to know why? They have no game plan. Everything they have thrown out in the open, has come to backfire on them. Now they're down to the part where they get desperate and use dirty tricks. That is what they always do. Just wait for it. That is what they did to Jane and that is what they will do to Rob.

They have nothing to run on.

What will they claim as their accomplishments?

Pete has accomplished NOTHING. Zilch. Zippo. Well, actually, he has managed to lose services to the town. Took away any prospects for a sewer, free and clear. Took away the flowers, took away the fun for kids by NOT SUPPORTING THE STAR CLIMBER. Funny thing is, the only purchase this guy HAS approved of in his entire administration, was a sign that directed traffic to his restaurant, bought using (flower money?) funds, inappropriately. He claimed that was not for his business, but happened to be a coincidence that it directed traffic to his business

Honestly, his mustache swore on a razor and everything.

What did Pete do for the town?

Wait for it...

It's coming.

Tourism, 101

Helena is a basket case these days (okay, pun intended). The tourists are coming, the tourists are coming!

With the busy tourist season approaching, our ever competent economic development committee has been working feverishly at each and every meeting they have had since their inception (all three of them) on finding ways to promote our area to attract summer tourists to our little berg in the Mountains. Some of their original, but quickly abandoned campaigns to garner summer visitors were such treasures as, "Come visit Shandaken, but leave your carbon footprint at home" and "Come visit Shandaken, we got five restaurants and no public shitters".

Not to be outdone by Olive's recent accomplishments, they also tried such goodies as, "Shandaken, it's like Olive, but more wester" and "Shandaken is not a destination, but a State of mind (on massive doses of Halidal) and finally, "Shandaken is not a destination".

That last one was the winner.

So, with this new promotion securely put in place, I am preparing for the massive influx of city dwellers, foreign travelers, and college students with only forty-eight dollars to spend on vacation/pot this year. When all seventeen of these annoying tourists make their mass exodus from points elsewhere to here, I'm surely going to lose my temper. I can see it now, a Saturday in July and I'm trying to make my way on to route 28, waiting patiently as the stream of who knows how many cars drive by (seven) each one mocking me, taunting me with their fancy mall haircuts and that glazed look in their eyes that seems to say, nay, SCREAM, "What the fuck am I doing here, I coulda gone to the Hamptons."

When I try to purchase items in the local market, they will be there in front of me, trying to purchase items for their precious campsite, trying to put some money into the local economy. Sales of marshmallows and lighter fluid will skyrocket, the demand for these items will go up and then with that, the prices will rise! How will the locals be able to afford these items then? And what if these items can not be stocked quickly enough to fill the demand. What if the Budwieser guy doesn't deliver in time, or the Meister Brau dude gets stuck in traffic? How will all seventeen of these visitors, AND residents cope? All hell will break loose (but true to my name, I'll be prepared). Pandemonium will ensue. Riots will happen. Seventeen unhappy tourists will write letters!

Yes, I see it now, hell is coming, and it brings with it a bakers dozen plus, of needy demanding visitors. They will expect things. And not just things, STUFF. They will want things and stuff. Things and stuff to see, things and stuff to do. WTF?! Are we Disney world. No!

Howeverrrrrr... I have compiled a list of sites for guests to visit, you know just a little something off the beaten path.

1. Main Street, Phoenicia-The burned out rubble that was once the Phoenicia Hotel. Awe at the spectacle that has magical powers. One minute the rubble is being moved, and the next... it lays completely still. Then there is movement again, but AHHH, you missed it, it's still again! If you listen carefully, you can hear the ghost of Babe Ruth light his cigar (or is that the ghost of the arsonist setting the fire, we'll just never know)

2. Main Street Phoenicia- Sweet Sue's water ride. Wear your bathing suit folks, and frolic in the water park known as "Sweet Sue's Sludge-sled extravaganza" Disclaimer: The town of Shandaken, Sue Taylor, and residents who voted for a sewer can not be held responsible for frolicers who contract dysentery, cholera, hepatitis, etc. from the grey water and fecal matter that accompany the grey water. Frolic at your own risk. Some assembly required. All rights reserved.

3. Shandaken-The Town of Shandaken Cell Tower- Come one, come all! Not to be outdone by Dean Gitter and the world's largest kaleidoscope, Pete and Company bring you the world's largest coat rack! Stand and have your picture taken in front of it. See what thousands of tax payer dollars buys you in Shandaken. Tell your friends about it...but wait till you get closer to Olive, you can't actually make a call there, no service.

4. Pine Hill- The Shandaken Museum. Visit the museum and explore local history. You'll see things like... well, it's not usually open so I am not sure what they have in it, but I saw a picture once, it looked nice. Maybe call ahead and make reservations. But please exercise courtesy when doing so, and make sure not to wake the troll.

5. Phoenicia- Any dumpster hit by a bear the night before. This always seems to amuse tourist to no end. THANK GOD! Easily amused individuals are our bread and butter, apparently.
If anyone can think of other interesting places to see in Shandaken, send them this way or to theshandakentruth.blogspot.com


And...FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, BE PREPARED THIS TOURIST SEASON. Make sure you have plenty of batteries for the flashlights and bottled water, in case of power failure due to the overload on the grid from the seventeen extra people in town.

-Helena

The Mustache Speaks

So, Pete's mustache called me this morning, and wanted to know why I was giving its body host a hard time. I assured Pete's mustache (henceforth called "Kathmandu" or "Kat") that I was only trying to get the information out about its host's ill deeds.

Kathmandu informed me that both "it" and Pete can make my life a living hell. Kat told me a story about how a woman who works in town called Pete onto the carpet on several issues, including his lying about speaking with officials regarding infrastructure issues, implying he was just playing out the clock and not really intending to accomplish much or anything. Well, just hours after she did this, Pete, along with several of his friends, and two town restaurant owners, began calling this woman's bosses (yes, she has MANY, unlike Kathy Nolan who is a boss of many but answers to NO ONE) attempting to get her fired. This is pretty comical. Here, we residents sit, STILL no cell service, STILL no infrastructure to speak of, TAXES INCREASING GREATLY, and what is this guy doing with his time? The adult equivalent of "I'm gonna tell your mom!" What a twit...
Well, I thought those words, but I didn't DARE say them to the mustache. Kat will cut a bitch, if you know what I mean.

Anyjerk, I listened carefully as Kathmandu let loose a diatribe unlike anything I had ever heard. Finally I got sick of listening and went into the bathroom and returned with my electric shaver. I turned it on and held it to the phone. The sound of its little motor sent chills through Kat's hairy cells, forcing it to quickly hang up.

I've found his Achilles heel People. It's NORELCO.

This Election year is not about the Parties, it's about the mustache

You want to know why Rob Stanley, Jack Jordan, and Pat Ellison will be joining the ranks of Town officials this coming January? Because Common sense will prevail this election season. Gone are the easy- to- fall - for scare tactics, the trust in your current elected officials, and last but not least, no JANE TODD to kick around anymore.

First, let's address the trick used in the last Supervisor's election race. Does everyone remember the fear of God that was struck into the hearts and minds of the average, hard working but uninformed resident. "You're gonna pay $10,000.00 or more to hook up to the sewer" was the script that Mike Ricciardella (current real deputy-Super, and brother to Mayor Rick) and his many cronies used when making calls to residents to help defeat the sewer referendum. Mostly the "little elderly lady" types were targeted, with threats that they would lose their homes, finances, etc. and perhaps their cats would be molested by city workers while the construction of a needed resource was in progress. Now, never mind that the money was there for the lateral work (just take a look at Boiceville, that area is not paying a penny for laterals, YES, THAT WAS OUR MONEY PEOPLE), if we had that sewer, Mike might lose diners to a newer, BETTER restaurant. So ,score one for the boogey man (Mike), you did your homework and used little old ladies fears against the good cause. Good for you Mike, but what did it cost you? Does anyone know about the boycott from NYS Employees of the Town restaurants. I get it from a VERY RELIABLE source that State workers will not eat in the Town of Phoenicia as they fear sewage contamination in the water supply. Whether or not that is true, that is the word up in the capitol, and if they don't want to eat here, guess what, they are telling their family and friends not to as well, and they'll tell two friends, and so on and so on...

Next, it has become apparent that the once rabid supporters of Peter D. and the two idiots that sit next to his right, are not making the appearances that they used to. The other Peter D, Kathy Nolan, an occasional visit from Mary (Ms. Herrmann, if you're nasty) and the occasional witch cackling of Judith (I'm out of Prozac so here I am) Wyman are all that you see at these meetings. Oh, by the way, I apologize to the Wiccan community for throwing Judith in your lap, I recognize your religion and should not use such a terrible stereotype like Judith Wyman. Anybitch, Other than the usual suspects, it looks like the charm of Pete's mustache is wearing thin. Seems, "I'm sorry", "So what" and "I personally don't like the flower program" are not explaining all of the bullshit that is going on. Your taxes increasing, town hall employee positions growing (as is the cost of benefits) and, just coincidentally of course, most are Pete's friends or relatives. Hey, how much does Rose Dorn get paid for running the web site? Is it gratis? Great, thanks Rose. And speaking of benefits, do you all enjoy paying for full coverage of former employees AND their families? Yeah, didn't think so.

Lastly, the issue of Jane Todd. Well, it is actually not an issue this race, but I bet they (Pete and Co.) try to make it one. "Rob worked with Jane on the blah blah issue, he is just like her" or "Jack is a board member of SHARP so he will be like Jane", or "Pat is a woman, JUST LIKE JANE IS" will be filling the rumor mills of town. Thing is, Hey, Jane was a great gal. She brought butt loads of money into town. Helped out countless people. The best thing we could have done for her, was support her. But no, idiots, I mean idiots from both sides of the fence, crucified her. Certain Republicans turned their backs on her (won't name names, but their names sound like "felon Purelli", "Mob Boss", and " Bike and Mick Fickledella") because Pete's mustache told them to. And as everyone Knows, you always listen to the Mustache. What they were thinking is beyond me, but at least this season, they don't have Janie Todd to kick around anymore. She is having the best revenge. She doesn't have to attend town board meetings. She doesn't have to listen to people yell and scream at her. Bless Jane Todd and if you see her, thank her for everything she did for this town.

So yeah, this trio (Rob, Jack and Pat) is gonna win big this November. But someone will have to wake Doris out of her coma and inform her the day after election. I pity the fool who will have to break the news to Pete's mustache...that thing has a left hook like you wouldn't believe!

Local politician, member of Local harvest group- attempts to kill a farm stand

Now, is this hypocritical or what? Check out the link below:

http://www.localharvest.org/restaurants/M5027

Shandaken Supervisor DiSclafani is working hard to close down the Hanover Farms fresh farm stand, the closest source for fresh and organic vegetables to Herr Supervisor, yet the putz is a member of local harvest, which encourages the very thing he is trying to rid the town of.

If Pete allows a proliferation of farm stands in Shandaken, where will he put all the biker bars? And if we have no biker bars, where will his best friend, employee, and psychic consultant,Mary Herrmann, hang out?

Why would a non-profit in NY have their taxes prepared in NC?

Something is fishy...

Well, as we all know by now, the Town of Shandaken is essentially being run by Kathy Nolan, sneakily shoving her hand up Peter DiSclafani's rear, and working her puppet master magic. It is rather amusing to hear a town resident ask Pete a question, only to have Kathy jump in with an answer from the crowd, and you think, "gee, how did he throw his voice like that? And make it deeper?"

All of Pete's screw ups and lies aside, something else is much more frightening. The true Supervisor, Nolan, is the acting Executive Director of Tibet Aid in Woodstock, NY. After an in depth investigation, a series of questions have arisen regarding the filing of the non-profit's required 990 filing.

In 2004 and 2007, the organization used FJS Associates in Raleigh, NC to file their 990. Why?
Also noted is that the tax preparer, Fay Sanders, does not include her ssn or ptin number. This is somewhat unusual, yet I have not even gotten to the most disturbing part.

In the signature section, Tibet Aid President Stephen Drago's signature changes dramatically from 2004 to 2006. One might even go so far as to say that two different people signed for Mr. Drago. Perhaps one was him,but who knows. The following are links to both 990 filings. Compare the signatures and you will see what I mean:

http://www.guidestar.org/FinDocuments//2005/030/432/2005-030432960-0279a20a-Z.pdf


http://www.guidestar.org/FinDocuments//2007/030/432/2007-030432960-043dc19e-9.pdf

Now for the directors. Only three are listed. Mr .Drago, when googled, many show up, and one is in NC. Is it "the" Stephen Drago, Tibet Aid President? Who can say. None are listed locally, though there was a Stephen Drago in Southern NY.

Tibet Aid vice president Edmund Eng, is another mystery. Sure, do a search, and you'll find many Edmund Eng. But who is "the" Edmund Eng? None are listed in Upstate NY, so, you tell me.

Last but not least, Lynne Wiggins, Treasurer, was a bit easier to locate. She resides... yeah, you guessed it, NC. She travels the world, and is the owner of a posh spa (with a zen philosophy of course, keeping with the theme).

How fortunate for the director that she has no oversight. It would seem that all directors travel extensively, even though listed as contributing 10 hours a month to Tibet Aid, which is very possible I guess, as they may do it in some other capacity from a satellite office, say... in a spa. The address listed for each director is 34 Tinker Street, Woodstock, so maybe they are sitting there right now.

So the question is, who is watching over Kathy? Who does she answer to? SHe seems to concern herself with the things that others do, who is policing her?

Ida know, maybe I just have a very suspicious mind.

-Helena

Welcome to my nightmare

stay tuned