Yippie

That was the word expressed at Tonight's "Town Board Monthly Meeting Show" by outgoing Supernard- Peter DiSclafluffy, as he half-heartedly congratulated the winners of the recent election. Don't cry for him, Argentina. No, really, don't. Bitch has plans, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Helena sat in her finest season finale gown, sipping Crystal, and waxing nostalgic over the last two years. So much has happened, so little of it good. Ahh, like sands through the hourglass, yada yada yada.

Most of the meeting went without incident, due in part to the low attendance (none of the witches of Eastwick showed up, so the seventh circle of hell ritual could not be performed). Peter and the entire board were taken to task over the "memorialising resolution" to not let any bitches smoke in town parks. Vin Bernstein, voicing concern that this was just another "example of increasing government" voted against it, as did fellow board member, soon to be Supervisor, and current smoking fiend, Rob Stantastik (eh, stretching, I know). When asked how this would be enforced, Peter went on a ten minute grasping for words serenade, until someone pinched the bitch and the meeting continued on.

Words like "amorphous" and "esoteric" were not harmed during the making of this meeting, I'm happy to report. When all was said and done...well, he didn't say anything at all really, 'cept, 'this isn't a law." Someone asked then why do it? Insert cricket chirpping sound...here.

So, the next hot-button issue (a new ambulance) came up again. Rich Muellerlalalalalalalala was in attendance, dressed to the nines, or course, we expect nothing less (if taffeta didn't chafe so much, I would recommend the Ambulance have their uniforms made of it, and I would "roll" with them homies, fo sho!).

Anyway, Lala was once again trying to appeal to the common sense of the board, explaining that an ambulance purchase was needed before they are forced to buy either a regular gas engine model from Ford, or a Chevy vehicle run on pee-pee and the sweat of labor camp prisoners in Thailand. You think Helena's kidding my chirruns, read the minutes, "urea" powered vehicles. Yummy!

Well, long story short (keebler short), the board sadly voted NO. Oh hell, who needs a useful, fully functioning vehicle? Not us Shandakeninnies. Nah, we're tough, be don't need no estinking help!

On top of that, another bit of ambulance news, which came as a shock to everyone, was a resolution to hire...dadadaaaaaa...PETER DISCLAFANI as an ambulance driver.
Felt like Captain Morgan drop kicked me and slapped the bitch right outta my drink!

I wondered how Pete-ard would exact his revenge on the bitches that got rid of him, and now his evil plan is clear. A lot of bitches are gonna die now! Helena has decided that should I find myself falling out of a tree again (or being removed from the tree by force, police force that is) I will apply the principles of survival self medication, and I will reset my broken leg with two downed tree branches and my handy, ever present flask, rather than risk the wrath that will be "Peter D., ambulance driver. Kidding aside, kudos on wanting to serve the public in yet another capacity.

So, no new ambulance, and Peter behind the wheel, I just heard the sound of the Ambulance's coveted awards falling off the walls back at headquarters. Well, these new developments call for some new procedures when dealing with emergencies. Might I suggest the following.

-Since no new ambulance will be purchased, buy a rickshaw to transport patients.
This would benefit the town in that it would save on gas, and it would be a great workout for drivers. Since Peter is new, he can start off with local runs and work his way to the long hauls.
Hell, the town will save so much money, they will eventually be able to afford a whole fleet of rickshaws.

Never mind two or three ambulances, ambulances are for suckers and businessmen. Only corporate greed would prevent the town from following through with this idea. Are you listening, Supervisor Stanley? Rickshaw.

My next suggestion would be, if you're a town resident and you require the offerings of a local emergency services department, but you can't have them, do the following:
-Put a band aid on whatever it is that ails you ( I don't care if you stabbed yourself in the eye or accidentally sat on a light bulb, the band aid isn't going to kill you), drink a bottle of drambuie, and drunk-drive yourself to the horsepital, because you'll have a better chance of making it that way then you will waiting for the ambulance that just blew a tie-rod and didn't have a back up because the town wanted to conserve money for more important things like signs to prevent people from smoking in the Shandaken park system. Not the prevent forest fires, mind you, but to prevent children from idolizing Gerry Setchko.

The funniest part of this subject matter, was that immediately after they turned down Lala's request for a new ambulance, Peter moves to vote on Police Cheif McGrath's request for a new car. The comic tension could probably be cut with a knife in that room. I'm sure that had they even entertained that motion, Mr. Lalalalala would have jumped out of his seat, and cut some bitches a new one. Helena would have paid extra to see that. But alas, always the gentleman, class and elegance prevailed(as it does with all of us well dressed bitches) and Mr .Lala thanked them for considering it anyway. I think Pete's gonna get the shitty shifts on the ambulance for a while.

The meeting came to a close without incident (I had hoped for at least that streaker lady to come running in and try to hug Peter or Rob) and Peter thanked everyone for "putting up with me for the last two years" and as he exited, a small group of stalwart supporters started clapping (it began as the dramatic slow clap, and escalated to a rush of thunderous claps....Just kidding, I gotta stop joking like that, sorry)

Helena has to use this last paragraph to give props to the man who made all of this possible. To Mr DiSclafani, who made us laugh, cry, scream, hyperventilate, squirm, laugh some more, and sneeze once or twice, thanks for the memories. I have fought the feeling that I would not be able to do this without you...

...but then Snoris spoke once or twice tonight, and I knew I would be okay.