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Thursday, October 14, 2004

Wigfield: The Can-Do Town That Just May Not 

This book from Amy Sedaris, Paul Dinello and Stephen Colbert, the triumverate who brought you Strangers with Candy, is definitely not for everybody. I thought it was brilliant, though, and not just because the subject matter - the Deep South, strippers, white trash, and the dismantling of environmentally destructive dams - is close to my heart. Here is an excerpt that I find particularly insightful about the relationships between the sexes and how they are formed in the family.

An interview with Fleet Hollinger, the Mayor of Wigfield.

I'm also a family man. I have a son, Fleet Jr., who is at the military academy up in Shell Knob, hopefully getting some of the pussy kicked out of him. And I have a beautiful daughter by the name of Carla. She is just the apple of my eye a la mode. I can't believe how fast she is growing up. Soon it will be time for her to meet a fella and settle down. Now, if this hypothetical fella knows what's good for him, he'll treat her right. 'Cause I'm gonna be lurking in the shadows, keeping watch every minute. And if he so much as sullies, or stains, or soils the innocence of that angel who came straight from God, I swear to Sweet Jesus hanging out on the cross, I will mount his goddamn head on the grill of my 4x4. I shit thee not.

It doesn't take much bad influence to ruin a woman. Case in point, that gargoyle who lives at the edge of the woods who I used to call my wife [Now a lesbian Wiccan named High Priestess Thea]. I never saw it coming. She had the perfect life here. All she was required to do was sit in the comfort of the home I built, keep an eye on the kids, have my dinner ready, and keep her yapper shut. I barely even forced her to perform her Wifely Obligation, seeing as how I was having it taken care of it over at the club. Now, I'd call that pretty light lifting. But what you gonna do? I never professed to try to understand women. They're like handguns. You try to keep 'em clean. You try to keep 'em oiled. You take 'em out to the range every so often, fire 'em off. Then one day you forget to put the safety on, and when you're swabbing out the barrel, blammo it goes off in your face. But I can't waste my energy thinking about women, I've got a town to run.

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