The story of the two children who died was heartbreakingly tragic, and the story, on the 2nd front page of the Borderland Section, about a truck being hit by a gold Nissan and then by a train made for an exciting double-whammy, but the remaining three stories I thought were interesting enough to share with you.
I hope you think so, too.
In a recent meeting, the El Paso Independent School District trustees have instructed administrators to find and hire a consultant to advise the scandal-ridden district on improving its image with the community it serves.
Their immediate recommendation was Dogbert from Dogbert Consultants, Inc. of the comic strip Dilbert, because "he has the right combination of greed and lack of ethics that would fit in so well around here," plus "he sure looks cute when he wags his little tail."
Unfortunately, the trustees had to withdraw their recommendation when they discovered that Dogbert was only a cartoon character, and was not, in fact, real.
"The fact that he was a talking dog should have been our first clue," they admitted.
During the same meeting, the trustees snuck away for a few hours to discuss the duties and responsibilities of interim Superintendent, Terri Jordan, in a special, super-duper, double-naught spy, closed door session, where it was unanimously agreed upon that, while she would be in charge of laundry and light housekeeping duties, she would be exempt from doing windows.
Meanwhile, in another part of town--mainly, the part your television sits on--U.S. Rep. Sylvestre "El Gato" Reyes released a devastating attack ad on his strongest opponent, Beto O'Rourke.
The ad accused O'Rourke of admitting to smoking "weed" (marijuana), snorting "blow" (cocaine), and, while living in Indonesia, eating dog ("It was tough."). When it was pointed out to the congressman that it was actually President Obama who admitted to all that, Silver (as he's affectionately called by his fellow congressmen, as in "thirty pieces of..."), allegedly said, "Oops!"
I went to his congressional office to ask him about the ad, and was greeted by his cousin, who handed me off to his nephew, who directed me to his uncle, who pointed to his daughter, who nodded in the direction of his 2nd cousin once removed, when finally...
"Does anybody here speak English?" I asked in frustration.
Reyes' sister was finally kind enough to get me in to see the congressman.
Reyes greeted me enthusiastically, that is, until he found out that I had already cast my vote in one of the early voting sites.
"Let's get this over with," he said, rather brusquely. "I have a family reunion to go to."
"In Mexico?" I asked him.
"In the next room," he answered. "It all comes down to this: You've got to know the kind of man you're voting for, and with me you know you're getting someone who's never done anything improper in his life."
"Yeah," his wife said, from their bedroom. "Lucky me."
"That's been my modus operandi from the first day I was elected into office. If you don't do anything, then you can't be accused of doing anything wrong."
Just then, another relative of his entered the room, and brought him a cup of coffee.
"Thanks, mija," he told her. "You're doing a good job. Give yourself a raise."
"Gracias," she said, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.
"Who was that?" I asked the congressman.
"That's my Deputy in Charge of Environmental Fabrications and the Transportation of Hot Liquids."
"Indeed," I said, because I've found saying the word "indeed" makes it seem like you understand what's just been said.
"And what kind of a name is 'Beto' for an Irishman?" Reyes asked. He was on a roll now. There was no stopping him. "The name 'Beto' is a Democratic name, while 'O'Rourke' is a Republican name. And El Pasoans don't vote for Republicans, ju'no?"
I hesitated.
"The city or the movie?" I asked.
"What?"
"The city or the movie?"
Now it was the congressman's turn to hesitate.
"Indeed," he finally answered, nodding his head with great gravitas. "Indeed."
Which leads me, finally, to the story about Aliviane, which coincidentally sounds a lot like my favorite album by Roxy Music, an El Paso non-profit that is under federal investigation (which is still better than being under Rosie O'Donnell). Aliviane paid suspended UTEP professor S. Fernando Rodriguez $344,000 in 2010, bringing his total compensation over ten years to $1.2 million, according to documents obtained by the El Paso Times under the Freedom of Being A Busybody Act. Rodriguez and his company, CER Analytics, were paid approximately 4% of Aliviane, Inc.'s total budget of $9 million for the fiscal year beginning September 1, 2010, which begs the question:
How do I become a non-profit?
Fifty Shades of Funny
jimduchene.blogspot.com
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
@JimDuchene
No comments:
Post a Comment