Day One: The Decline Begins

As you all know, the alcohol vote was brought before Asheboro yesterday, and in a shocking turn of events, the people voted on the side of Satan. While I can't say that I'm surprised, I am disappointed with those that are choosing to ruin the purity of Asheboro, and for what? A few beers? For shame.

You see, many years ago, I saved the life of a baby. Ever since that point, I've been treated disrespectfully by the powers that be in this town. I've tried to bring morality back, but have been accused of being insane, a troublemaker, and many things quite worse. It is certainly fitting that Asheboro has now voted in alcohol, because the "people of power" in this town have operated as though they are in a drunken state for years now.

My mother, a fine woman and one of the people who adamantly opposed the sale of alcohol (both in the past and currently), once told me a story about a little boy named Joseph. Joseph was unlike the other little boys of the area, as he was born with a large horn on his head. The children loved to call him names like Unicorn-Boy, Horny, and Dr. Magichorn. Joseph wasn't bothered by this though, as he would routinely join in with the name calling, accepting his place within the group. One day though, Joseph just wanted to be alone in the cafeteria at school. He had a lovely tuna fish sandwich and a bag of potato chips. The chips, he later found out, were from the Thompson River Potato Chip company, of East Lansing, Michigan. Joseph ate with a sense of pride, as he had the best bag of potato chips in the school, the kind that everyone was envious of. As is generally the case though, Steve Schimdly didn't want to let little Joseph eat his potato chips in peace. He grabbed the bag and ripped them open with the horn on little Joseph's head. From that day on, Joseph never spoke another word.

Another win for Schmidly.