I really appreciate the response and support that came in answer to my last post, but it was just a tad discouraging that so many of you think that I'm too soft-hearted for proper revenge.

So to prove I've got the minimals, here's a story from my college days, all the way back in 1998.

Skippy should appreciate this as it deals with my first foray into politics. Well, the first serious foray anyway. So without further ado, here's today’s edition of:

ADVENTURES IN BASTARDY!

I had a friend, we'll call her April, that was running for a seat on the school board of governors.

Problem was, there was a group of frat/sorority people running on a ticket and they had a person for every position. And they were going to win too. There was absolutely no doubt of that, because the head of the ticket got his rich family to throw a giant kegger every year for the other frats.

Without the frats, April didn't stand a Chinaman's chance in that election.

For some reason, I still don't know why, she made me her campaign manager. And it was on that very eve that I found our way in. The frat ticket had a person in every spot so we couldn't get in. Unless they were to lose someone from thier ticket...

I immediately began combing the school bylaws, Greek charters and student newspaper for any way I could get someone from the frat ticket disqualified from running for office. Well, not immediately, first we made a campaign sign for the student union building with tempra paint and an old bedsheet. That was also the night that April painted her titties blue and pressed them on our kitchen wall. As you can imagine, this quickly became our favorite party game and we soon had some 30 different prints in varying colors on that kitchen wall.

And one pair of testicles.

Fucking Pittman...

Anyways, I seem to have wandered off subject (gotta remember to find those kitchen pictures...), but one day I found my opening.

A girl running for the same position as April got pulled over for DUI. Well there was more to it than that, she got pulled over going the wrong way on High Street at 3 AM on a Saturday night. For those of you unfamiliar with the layout of Morgantown, High Street is the street that the majority of Morgantown's bars crowd around. Sure, there's a few in Sunnyside, but ick...

So, drunk, behind the wheel, wrong way on a one way street and right at LAST CALL, the very peak of High Street's pedestrian traffic, and she has the nerve to tell the reporter that she "wasn't endangering anyone".

Well that kinda rubbed me the wrong way. It's funny just how civic minded I can be when ulterior motives are involved. In any event, I had all I needed to set my plan in motion.

In the meantime, I had a debate to attend. A debate that was going to be broadcast live over the campus radio station. I watched as the frat party's supporters lobbed softball questions at their candidates and trashed on their opposition, all the while wearing t-shirts, I shit you not, with the names of the frat party candidates on them.

Finally it was my turn to ask a question. I don't recall my exact words, but I do remember two things, first I pointed out the T-shirt thing to the public listening to the radio and second I equated the frat party's tactics to the Rodney King beating because no matter what you're doing or trying to prove you WILL get quoted if you mention Rodney King.

And I did.

Twice.

Once in the Daily Athenaeum, the student newspaper, and once in the Mon County Register. I'm guessing it was a slow news day.

I made the papers three times that year. I once for the above incident in which I was dubbed 'unknown student in trenchcoat' once as 'unknown person or persons responsible for paintballing public buildings' and the last time I wasn't actually singled out but I started a minor riot at an anti-smoking rally.

Tear gas fucking sucks. Especially when you're puffing on a stogie.

Anyway, when the smoke cleared that certain student on the opposition ticket had dropped out of the race and completely out of school. Seems that somehow someone had clipped the articles about the DUI offense out of the newspapers and mailed them to the girl's parents.

Accidentally, I'm sure.

But her misfortune was our way into the student government. We redoubled our efforts now that a spot was open. We were determined and we kept our eyes on the prize.

Too bad we lost.

It wasn't even close either.

We lost heinously.

Serriously, not fucking close at all.

My point? Fuck, does that story really need one? I guess my point is that when I want to be I can be a world class prick (and a hypocrite, I admit). I don't like to be (most of the time), but when I have to be you better watch the fuck out.

That's it. See you in Hell.