The Gadfly: Rant

I’ve been on strike as of late, because this damn liberal rag refuses to pay me for my witty commentary, even after I secured my place in Crested Butte history by walking away from the 2010 Best of the Butte with the Biggest Mouth title.  Just like Chuck Sheen, baby…winning.  You’d think these cheap bastards would want to capitalize on having such a notorious figure featured in their publication.  You’d think they would want to throw me a bone every now and then.  But no, I just can’t seem to elevate myself to the earning status of Norton or Hall, and I don’t get half as much hate mail as those guys.  At least Church isn’t getting paid, or so they tell me.  I know they only put him in here to piss me off. 
    It’s been tough to be quiet, what with the never ending shi**how circus that makes its home here.  The streets are unnavigable because we received our seasonal average of snow and it got warm in March.  Huh?  Apparently, the town didn’t have enough people on staff.  Here’s an idea: instead of giving out $40,000 in bonuses to town employees, HIRE ANOTHER ONE.  Hell, hire another two if you’re so flush.  And how about not waiting until we get half a foot of snow to plow?  Mount CB didn’t seem to have such a hard time with “the perfect storm.”
    Pass prices are going up yet again, but we’re all still broke.  The RTA doesn’t know how the hell it’s going to fund airline guarantees AND bus service.  And the mine makes the USFS its bitch with a ball gag and a leather thong.  Oh, that reminds me, happy gay ski week.  At least those guys know how to party.
    Speaking of gay ski week, a local business owner was reportedly accosted by a conservative touron for hanging a rainbow flag outside of her business this week.  He said he’d never set foot in her business again.  Too bad he didn’t say he’d never set foot in Crested Butte again.  Take your hatred elsewhere, as**ole.  
    People are freaking out over MMJ dispensaries, but the liquor continues to flow like contaminated mine water in this town.  Tell me, anti-pot heads, which sends a worse message to your kids, an MMJ ad on the bus, or the constant series of drunken events and endless watering holes that this town deems appropriate to advertise?  No one’s puking on the bus because they’re too stoned.  Don’t push your hypocrisy on me.  Drugs are drugs.
    A county employee was caught hucking a gas can into Coal Creek (the town water supply) at the Kebler trail head.  He received a summons for littering.  Are you kidding me?  A COUNTY EMPLOYEE THREW A GAS CAN INTO COAL CREEK.  Was it empty?  Full?  Who does this?  Why?  He should be fired immediately and run out of town.  Publish his name.
    We’re killing people in Iraq, we’re killing people in Afghanistan, and now we’re killing people in Libya, but somehow gas is still $4 a gallon.  How many people do we have to kill before we can get some cheap fucking gasoline?  How about instead of spending billions on our war machine, we spend billions on education, then maybe some smart American kid can figure out a way to power a car with something other than petroleum, a car that we would actually want to drive, and that would make it through the streets of CB during spring break?  Then we could all tell the middle east to f*** off once and for all.  Let them kill themselves.  They seem pretty good at it.
    And then, just when I’m ready to get to work on my Heemeyer Killdozer, I hear that our very own Crested Butte Blizzard pee wee hockey team won the state championship in Denver.  Amazing.  The kids from a town of 1,500 just beat the best kids in the state, kids from big cities with lots of rinks with lots of ice and lots of resources.  Well, now YOU’RE the best kids in the state.  I wish I could take you all out to lunch, because you make me proud.  Too bad your parents had to drive you to Gunny every day, using all that not-so-cheap blood gas, and emitting all those nasty pollutants, just to get you some ice time.  Too bad the town of Crested Butte couldn’t get their act together and build a real rink up here, like the highly paid consultants told them to do.  A roof don’t make ice in October.  Regardless, you kids should be proud of what you did for the rest of your lives.  Winning.  Not that you should be reading my column in the first place.  This is adult material.  
    Enjoy your off-season, ski bums.  Work on those tans.  Corn and sand await.