An Open Letter From Speaker Gerald Polley
God's Candidate For The Presidency Of 2,012
To The World
27-08-02AJ
People were a little surprised at my comments yesterday about those
that insulted my name when I was young. Some have asked for an
example. O.k., we'll talk about Bob.
Now, Bob,
when I was young, thought he was the greatest criminal in the area,
smarter than anybody. I often found myself making visits to his
home. Either to retrieve stolen items, or, to warn his mother if
he didn't stay away from certain young ladies who were under age his
butt was going to be in jail.
One
afternoon I went up there with a friend, knocked on his mother's door,
and informed her that her son had John Cobb's boat, motor and trailer
in her garage, that she could either let us have it now, or I could
summon the sheriff who was actually parked just around the corner in
case we needed him, and he could have us take it down to the impound
lot while he took Bob to jail. Don't tell us he bought it from
someone, because we know better!
Bob's mother sighed and said "Go and take it! It isn't right, but take it!"
We'd just about had everything hooked up when Bob showed up,
complaining we had no right to take the boat, it was his. I
demanded a bill of sale. He said he didn't have one, he'd have to
get one from the previous owner. "Fat chance!" I remarked.
Bob looked really angry and snapped "You know, if Polley Want A Cracker
doesn't start minding his own business, something unfortunate might
happen to him, or that darling mother of his!"
My
friend thought there was going to be bloodshed right there, but I
calmly got in the car and drove off. Of course no one in town was
surprised at all when a few days later Bob appeared with his face all
smashed up, and walking funny. He told everyone he'd had an
accident.
A few months later I was
guarding a house for a man who was having problems with his brother so
he could go to Bangor and get cancer treatments, a city about an hour's
drive from where we lived, when a truck pulled in the yard. Who
got out of it but Bob and the man's brother. I hollered out
"Whoa! Get right back in the truck, you've got no business here!"
Bob screamed "You're the one who has no business here! This is this man's property."
"Not as far as his brother's concerned," I answered, "now if you've got
a problem go get the sheriff. Don't bother with the PD, we're out
of their jurisdiction."
They climbed back in the
truck and took off. A few minutes later the sheriff pulled in the yard
all amused. "Gerald," he asked "you got anything saying you're
supposed to be here?"
I produced the letter the
owner of the property had given me. The sheriff looked at it, said
"Thanks! See you later. And by the way, Bob
asks if there's anything I can do about Polley Want A Cracker being
such a pain in the ass and interfering in everybody else's business. I
told him no, not as long as he's in the employment of the people who's
property he's on!"
We exchanged smiles and the
sheriff headed off to do other things. Nothwithstanding,
Bob and I did not get along, and everybody knew it.
Now, Bob married one of the most beautiful girls in the area. Everybody
tried to make her understand that he was a total and complete loser,
but she would not listen. Bob didn't drink, I don't think he even
smoked, but he had one problem. He couldn't keep his foot off the
accelerator. He was a speed freak. One day he wrecked his car,
killing his wife and their three children. Somehow he
survived. As he was driving on a suspended license he was hauled
into court. His mother thought it was terrible where he'd just lost his
family, that officialdom was tormenting him. The judge asked him
if he had remorse for the loss of his wife and children. Bob told
him "Who cares? I'll get another bitch, I'll have more children.
Doesn't matter!" The judge gave him two years. He served
sixteen months. He got out and married the sister of his dead
wife, whose family immediately disowned her. The police went up
to her mother's house several times telling her she couldn't beat her
with a broom when she came in the yard, until she started beating them
with a broom, then, they gave up.
They had two
children. The son died of alcohol poisoning when he was 32.
The daughter committed suicide when she was 16 over a failed love
affair with a married man. Bob's wife ate herself to death.
She died in a nursing home weighing over 400 pounds, of heart failure.
Finally Bob had another accident. This time he didn't
survive. A lot of people think it wasn't an accident. But
Bob removed his family from the gene pool. He didn't pass his
sickness on to future generations. People say "You can't be
vindictive to people that make fun of your name. You can't wish
them ill." I don't see why not when they're totally and
completely useless and make others around them totally and completely
useless. If they are so kind as to not reproduce, I think it's
best for the world!
Bob thought he was
something really hot, something really special that everyone should
look up to. As our friend Elgard says I think he was a total
waste of oxygen! And anyone that says "Oh, that's terrible!" they
have every right to their opinion, as I have every right to mine.
There were only six people like this. Other people had the common sense
not to insult me. One of them became a fairly decent human being
and did a lot of good for people. I sat aside my grievances towards
him. But the others in one way or another, they ended up like
Bob. Their genes were not passed on to future generations, and
that was a blessing to the world! And of course it doesn't need
to be said but I'll say it anyway, Bob died forever. Didn't even
fully make it into The Afterlife! All the pain that he caused
others devoured him.
I might be boasting,
but I think when it's all said and done I was far smarter than Bob,
far, far smarter!
By the way, the only one at Bob's funeral was his mother.
A Servant Of Him
That Dwells In
The Holiest Of All
Now, And, Forever
P.O. Box 392
Ellsworth, ME 04605
(207) 812-1621
spiritist@yahoo.com