THE TYGRRRR EXPRESS

Things have really gotten desperate for New Jersey Governor Jon Corzine. Politically, he is sinking.

I just wish he would stop trying to avoid his troubles by fleeing to Los Angeles and hiding in my swimming pool.

Look, if he wants to drive New Jersey into the ground, as a New Yorker living in California I could care less. Besides, I have never thought of New Jersey as an actual state. It is a province of New York, with some of it belonging to Philadelphia.

(Rangers rule, Devils suck, because I said so.)

A joke I heard as a kid was that the famous inscription written at the bottom of the Statue of Liberty read, “New Jersey sucks.”

Childish humor aside (until tomorrow at best), it is one thing to arrogantly treat your state like your own entire Six Flags Great Adventure amusement park. It is one thing to be a politician in Free Fall ( a great ride there) tying your words up like the Ultra-Twister (an even better ride).

Yet there is no excuse for Jon Corzine to seek refuge in my swimming pool.

Several months ago I went down for a jacuzzi soak before bedtime. As I prepared to relax, this middle aged white male with an incredibly sinister looking beard appeared lurking in the shadows. Perhaps he was plotting his next evil move, although he seemed harmless enough drying himself off with a towel. Besides, I should not have been staring anyway.

I knew he was a man of influence because of his lack of a crop on top. He was definitely a PBWG (Powerful, Bald, White Guy, similar to a character on any of the “Law and Order” franchises.)

I was going to let Governor Corzine know that he was the second coming of the wretched Jim Florio. I wanted to ask him how a guy could be the head of Goldman Sachs and end up a socialist? True, Goldman Sachs did fire him, but he must have learned something, anything.

I hoped he did not eat a big meal before getting in the pool. He does have a penchant for reckless behavior, including his 91 MPH car crash.

Yet I was still mostly curious as to why the leader of the garbage state was in my d@mn swimming pool.

I was about to ask him about it (and then criticize his budget policies), but a couple other people approached him first. The woman stood behind the man. The man then greeted Governor Corzine warmly. In fact, he greeted him a little too warmly. He kissed him on both cheeks.

What the heck? Is this a New Jersey thing or something? I knew Jim McGreevey was gay, but I was convinced that Jon Corzine was straight. In fact, I clearly remembered him getting caught putting his lover on the payroll, which did not cost him his job because the lover was female. I could not understand why this man was kissing Governor Corzine.

I had to eavesdrop at this point, as the man began to speak to the governor.

“Mr. Jamshidian, it is always good to see you my friend.”

“Likewise my friend.”

“Mr. Jamshidian, this is my wife. Honey, Mr. Jamshidian runs the local pharmacy where I buy my prescriptions.”

Now hold on. Is the governor a drug dealer? Also, why does this other man keep calling him Mr. Jamshidian?

Things got even more confusing when they started speaking in a foreign language. I thought that perhaps his tenure at Goldman Sachs caused him to learn Chinese for international business purposes, but it seemed that the language spoken  was similar to Hebrew and Spanish. It was Farci, which is spoken by Persians, who apparently are from Iran.

I am not sure why Governor Corzine is pretending to be some Persian pharmacist named Mr. Jamshidian, but if he has a condo in my building to hide his mistresses, I will find out about it.

I could have sworn I saw police then show up, perhaps to indict him. It turned out that they were security guards for the building. It was time to lock up the pool area for the night.

Mr. Jamshidian said goodnight to the man. “Good night Mr. Goldman.”

Mr. Goldman? Could Mr. Sachs be far behind? This was definitely a code.

So far neither LAPD or NJPD want to investigate this situation, especially since there was no crime. The gate was not forced open, and everybody left when they closed the gates for the night.

I am not sure what Mr. Jamshidian is trying to pull, but my building really needs to install more security cameras.

In the mean time, Governor Corzine, stop this nonsense and leave my swimming pool alone for good.

Now to get some rest. Well, not quite yet. A homeless guy seems to be by the barbecue area, and he should not be there. This is private property.

Oh no wait, it’s just Denver Pyle from Dukes of Hazard. For a guy who has been deceased since 1997, Uncle Jesse does not look half bad.

Now if only Catherine Bach would show up wearing her Daisy Dukes. Now that would be a poolside hallucination I could live with.

eric

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 6th, 2009 at 1:20 pm and is filed under POLITICS, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.