Monday Night Live, Starring Ace Reporter Paul Ryan

original print date, September 24 2002

.....

...................Paul Ryan

Shh. Shhhhh! Be quiet. I'm writing today's column from the city council meeting. As a journalist, I'm required to cover each meeting. We can't let them know that the column is being written, reader. We can't let them know that you're listening in.

You ended up with $21,000 in the general fund last year, which is broken down on page 10 . . .

Good God. They're only on page 10 of the 86-page audit of last year's budget. Did I graduate from college? Are you sure I didn't get hit by a car and die the day before graduation? Because this simply can't be real. This has to be hell. That, or really, really bad karma.

. . . these funds seem to lack documentation of the bonding issue. Could we include the bonding issue from 2000 in the discussion along with last year's? I just like to be thorough . . .

What if hell isn't really fire and brimstone? What if it's just a simulated reality where you're forced to not only attend city council meetings, but write about every single one of them in some small town? What if hell starts immediately after death, and you don't even get the satisfaction of knowing that you're in hell? I could very well be in hell right now, while the heaven people are leading other simulated realities that involve having hot, dirty sex while eating chocolate dip cones from Dairy Queen that won't make them fat.

. . . we spent a lot on sealcoating and grading for our roads last year. Do we have any more FEMA money for the other roads flooded in . . .

Should I test the theory? Should I scream "YOU PEOPLE BORE ME TO BLOODY HIGH HELL!" and run out of the room, and then take my credit cards and max them out on cash advances as I head to Vegas for a drunken night of absolute perfection?

Hiring our own engineer for the city, instead of using our current firm, would cost more. But it would come in handy if we have more big projects like the ones . . .

Maybe I'll just let out a little "yawlp" first, and go from there. Yeah, that's cool. I'll try that.

We can't just give up a ten-foot easement so the businesses can have more land. (Paul slinks down in his chair) "Yawlp." (Paul covers his eyes) What if we need to put more utilities in there when the polluted land is made safe and redeveloped for . . .

Oh God! The mayor's looking at me! Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man. Don't look at me. Please stop looking at me. I'm sorry I "yawlped." I'll never . . . whew! That was a close one.

Mayor, I think you'll find, if you take out your calculator, that the city's public golf course made roughly 1.7% less than last year. Now, last year was indeed a rainy year, but . . .

Maybe if I strangle myself with my own belt, I can leave without getting in trouble. I'll have to pull lightly enough so I don't kill myself, but hard enough so I knock myself unconscious and collapse on the floor. Damn! The old guy across the room is staring at me. I can't do it if someone sees me doing it. Why does he come to these meetings? He's always at these meetings. He's probably homeless. He probably sleeps under the bridge, and comes in here to get warm and steal folding chairs after everyone else leaves. I bet he'll go nuts and lunge on this coin if I roll it towards him.

If you use cement, you'll be wasting a lot of hard-earned taxpayer dollars. (Sound of nickel bouncing across floor) Use a plastic water pipe, or maybe a . . .

Crap! Now he's just looking at me funny. Guess I was wrong. Hmmm. No, I doubt I was wrong. I think he just has good self-control. He'll probably go get it when everyone else isn't looking. Man! Will this meeting EVER end?!?

The culvert was installed near the former VPIC site on Highway 7, but we're still going to have to put in some other items before the road will actually be safe during heavy . . .

Can't someone just shoot me? Just shoot me anywhere. Just a flesh wound. Even in the groin. Even twice in the groin. I would rather be shot in the groin two times than listen to another minute of this meeting.