Friday, April 18, 2008

These Are Desperate Times

After a year of terrible publicity, being kicked around (and deserving every sweet minute of it), and Conway Twitty look-alike contests, it seems that a few people whose family were served at the Sanctuary Hospice House are...a little upset with Intrepid Attorney General and State Rube Samson.

Oh, Jimmy. You had to know better than this. Then again, desperate men will cling to any rope they can get ahold of when they're drowning. First it was the backdoor tort scheme, now this. Too little, too late: The shine has come off. Once the corruption genie is out of the bottle, all the indicting, posturing, and pouting in the world won't help.

But just to point it out: Can't make the DAs do anything about Scruggsquiddick, but you absolutely have to follow the edicts of a Lee County Grand Jury? Who exactly brings stuff before the Grand Jury? Do they go around solving crimes in a van? Do they play music? Does one wear an ascot? Do they have a talking dog?

How dumb do you think we are? Wait, don't answer that-we might actually get the truth.

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