SUCKETH THE ASSETH

Suck Ass Poems is back.

If you're like me and had completely forgotten about the site ... let's move on.

Sorry folks ... but it's my favorite show on TV, bar none.

I guess there's something about taking normal people and putting them in abnormal situations, starving them, making them push their bodies to the limits and then watching the mental strain begin to crack them to the point that they go fucking nuts on television that appeals to me.

And it doesn't hurt that you have hot chicks in bikinis running around every week.

Anyway ... I'm sad today that I have to wait four months until the next "Survivor".

Not suicidal sad.

But sad nevertheless.

And yes people ... I know which hole a baby comes out of ... it's just scarier to tell an 11 year-old that it's through the pee hole.

Sheesh.

For a short time last year, I flirted with the idea of becoming the Homeowner's Association President of our little subdivision out here.

Now I really don't have the time to dedicate to such a position because it requires a lot of time answering the phone and working to remind residents that their neighbors aren't being assholes on purpose and basically babysitting a bunch of grown adults 24-7.

But everyone on our street still despises the current president and want her out.

So yesterday, the first scheduled Homeowner's meeting in almost two years was held.

This woman doesn't hold meetings because she knows the general feeling towards her is one of animosity and she avoids situations where she can be overthrown.

There aren't even meetings held to elect new presidents or even ASK if anyone would want a new president. She's got a stranglehold on the position.

So the meeting was yesterday at 4:00 and it turns out that we're not the only ones who showed up to ask for her resignation.

Hundreds of people were there, overflowing out of the clubhouse and standing outside getting messages relayed to them.

The president kicked off the session by saying this wasn't going to be a "complaint session" and that nobody was allowed to complain. We were all there to listen to our tiny little town's mayor talk about his dreams of making our tiny little town a major metropolis.

The town I live is ... it's got a funny name ... there's maybe a couple thousand people living here ... and the only businesses we have are a library (in a portable trailer), a hardware store, a post office and the water company.

That's it.

And our Mayor says he wants us to be the next Nashville.

Ummmmmmm ... sure, Mayor. Way to take that "community pride" shit and bastardize it into delusional psychobabble.

What are you going to do? Take the cows and magically turn them into limousines?

Push the library over onto its side and build a skyscraper there in its place?

We moved here because we LIKE the quietness of the country with the convenience of the city ten minutes away.

Don't screw it up Mayor.

Anyway ... once I found out we weren't going to be able to pick at the President until she cried and ran off and threw her precious gavel to the floor and I rushed to the stage to pick it up and declare myself God of the Homeowners' Association while lightning came down out of the sky to annoint me like the Mighty Thor .... I grabbed Andrew and we left Susie there to listen to the Mayor's psychotic bullshit.

The President DID say that we could grab a complaint sheet on our way out, fill it out and get it to her.

I've already scrawled "YOU FUCKING SUCK!!!" across our sheet in black Magic Marker.

Now I just need to get her mailing address.