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Speak Your Piece

Tell us what's on your mind. No need to give your name.

E-m@il address

In addition to the telephone and the U.S. Mail, The Mountain Eagle accepts comments to Speak Your Piece by electronic mail. Our address is: mteagle@tgtel.com

NOTE: Once again the Speak Your Piece answering machine has malfunctioned, meaning that several comments that were phoned in could not be used. We hope we have that finally taken care of. Please call back if your comment didn’t appear in this week’s edition.

Ladies and gentlemen, where has the Tom Cat gone? Probably back to that old ugly. What about his other woman (boy, she is smoking for an old one)? Isn’t she getting any loving anymore?

The first thing I’d like to say is to a little man who runs his business up on a hill in Jenkins. It’s pretty sad that you would take 75 percent of a person’s check. We have worked our tails off in this place, doing things the hard way when there is another way that is less time consuming and just as effective. You think that just because of what your last name is you are king of Jenkins. Boy, are you wrong. We are going to enjoy watching you fall from that high horse of yours, knowing that we had nothing to do with your downfall because you did it all on your own.

Local lawyers bully, threaten, attempt to intimidate, and take advantage of opposing witnesses in other ways. The Kentucky Attorney General has a brochure entitled victims’ rights, and people who appear in court or give a deposition should avail themselves of it. Get it at the Office of Attorney General, Capitol Building, Ste.: 118, 700 Capitol Avenue, Frankfort, KY 40601, or by calling 502-696- 5300. If a lawyer treats anyone unfairly, they can also get the Kentucky Bar Association to review their treatment by writing the Bar Association at : Kentucky Bar Ctr., 514 W Main St., Frankfort, KY, or by calling 502-564-3225. They can also e-mail them at: www.kybar.org.

To a certain man who loves The Eagle: The Eagle loves you and I do too. Happy 70th birthday.

Sexual deviates are a force, they are evil, and they are not limited to Pastor Haggard, various other televangelists, and Catholic priests. They are well represented in this area. Their need to be secret usually doesn’t work out for very long, because those with whom they trade services for favors talk and they become fairly known for what they are. Some people aren’t concerned.

I think Letcher County is generous and soft on criminals, especially those with money and large families. Anyone who is aware of recent court cases could hardly deny that. This kind of climate makes it easy for criminals; they get away with a lot here. I still don’t think that could be a very satisfactory life, though. Despite their supreme arrogance, the crooks must have to be constantly wondering if they have somehow slipped up. There is also the social stigma. Crooks are pariahs. Decent people are courteous enough to them, because the people here are kind and generous as a rule. They won’t associate with crooks or deal with them, though, and the crooks have to know that they have no respect — are held in contempt in fact.

Dear all of you kind souls. I hear the branch is the place to be. But it’s sad that they all have no life. They all have to resort to staying up late and making those fake MySpaces. I mean these people seriously need to grow up. Thank you. Bacon.

I didn’t sit down to write about Scudge Frisk the biker who sits with his friends in a dank bar at noon drinking Jim Beam. Nor do I care about Scudge Frisk, the bear of a man who wrapped his greasy elbow around the neck of bartender Willy, who had suggested Scudge’s vehicle was of foreign make. It’s the Frisk that no one knew — the Frisk that hobbled on home and threw his leather vest over a banister only to begin working on designs for doilies. He especially loved a doily that looks precious under a centerpiece vase. But let’s just say he shot out from antiquity when he introduced that new line. The new ones weren’t perforated or white, they were tinted and often geometric. ‘These,’ thought Scudge, ‘would even appeal to some of my pals back at the bar. Most folks know that sound is linked to emotions. Bikers know, for example, that the deep roar of a Harley is a resonance that makes babies feel sentimental when it seeps from roadside to crib. But Scudge Frisk discovered a new elicitor. One day when staring a newly-dyed doily, the combination of its ‘deepfog green’ center and a ‘winter cyan’ edge made him feel raging hatred. ‘I hate this doily,’ thought the mean biker. ‘Its colors make me want to kill.’ Further experimentation yielded other emotions. Months of refining led to the ultimate color combo. He dyed squares of silk the appropriate selection of hues, sewed them into doilies, shoved samples into his vest pocket and rocketed on down to the bar. Before Tiny Rockalon or Rodney Kark could squeak a barstool, their drinks had been placed upon multicolored silk pads. This new pattern, they would learn, caused ultimate happiness. Rockalon, Rodney and the rest looked over and found themselves to be happy as larks. ‘No longer,’ exclaimed one them, ‘will we need to bicker over meaningless trifles.’ They were so happy that they all left their dingy watering pit to go running daintily through a grassy field. Two young girls in pink Sunday dresses sat on a nearby lawn overhauling the engine of their minibike when they noticed the huge men in jeans and leather strolling like playful kittens. The girls heard one biker yell back to the other, ‘I feel summery and succinct, like a sleeveless linen dress.’

First I would like to thank the superintendent for the great job she is doing. She is getting rid of the bad seeds that Jenkins has long needed. Although there are some more veteran teachers that need to go because they are just tired and not interested in teaching anymore, but that will soon come when the time is right. Thanks, Ms. W. In other things, I have kept my mouth shut because I do want my child to get off the bench and get to play. We all witnessed that if you say anything your child will be punished.

There are too many stories going around of court and court property appraiser manipulations of foreclosures for there not to be an investigation of them. The game is apparently to give low-ball appraisals of foreclosed property, then buy the property and sell it at its market value. The flood of foreclosures going on now would make this scheme of taking advantage of the unfortunates, who are losing their property, a real windfall. It’s a pitiful situation when you have to be on guard against those who are supposed to protect you.

It is obvious that the ignoramus writing in last week about the clique is unapprised of the facts, lacks moral composition, and cowers behind Speak Your Piece.

Be not deceived: God is not mocked: for whatever a man sows, that shall he also reap. (Galatians 6:7) Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:19-21)

Water problems are popping up all over — Hindman, Hazard, Whitesburg, and others are running low, and some areas are completely out. This is happening during one of the rainiest periods we have had in years. No one has said this out loud, but the reason is obvious; the mountains have been clearcut to the point that most of the really big trees that stored a lot of water are gone, gas and mining companies have riddled the mountains under the surface, and the whole area has been subjected to more explosions than a war zone. If the interiors of these mountains could be seen, it would look like a sieve. There’s no way water can be stored in the amounts needed, and this is going to get worse, very quickly. The companies that did all this, one of which prides itself on its environmental attitude, will, of course, take a hike when everything they need has been taken, leaving us in a sorry situation.

I am so glad to be out of Kentucky living in another state away from my exboyfriend and his scummy woman. And all the troublemakers who live there, though there is a lot that I miss, but my life is moving on.

I agree that the whole court system should be thrown out. They’re not even neutral — they’re a negative force. There’s no integrity, no justice, and no concern for citizens in the whole system. The only problem is, how do you do it? None of the worst of the bunch even had any opposition during the last election. Their fellow lawyers won’t run against them because they’re happy with the fact that they can control them. People are getting away, literally, with murder, while others are given harsh sentences for possessing small amounts of marijuana. How does their having a little pot harm me? On that subject: the most helpful thing that could be done for Kentucky would be to legalize marijuana. The problem with that, as with other prohibitions, is that illegal purveyors, the whole government army, which is profiting, and fundamentalist churches are teamed to prevent anything that sensible from happening. People have to come to realize that this system makes no sense and, if some reason isn’t injected, it will not survive. A new poll out today shows that over 50 percent of the people in this country would rather live somewhere else. What a shame.

Happy birthday, Ruth Ann. We love you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Roland and Ellen. Hope to see you soon. Special Valentine wishes to Doug, Ruth Ann and Oma. We love you very much and would love to see you.

This is to that no good, rotten golddigger who took her supposed ‘Uncle Jessie’ to Pine Mountain Grill for a little old hamburger. Big spender. We all know you’re after his money. So you can buy lobster next time you dine out. Don’t you have a conscience?

This is Long Branch. They have made another run to Somerset to get a load of pills. The law enforcement knows all about it. They could care less. Have a nice day.

Run, hide your kids. Get Grandpa in the attic. Cheese Beaver is on Roberts Branch.

One, two, fruit is coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, better get a stick. Seven, eight, cellmate. Nine, 10, let him in. A nightmare on Frank’s Creek.

It’s not a bit too early to start thinking and planning for the 2010 election because there’s a lot of work to be done. All offices will be up for grabs because none of the current holders have done anything to give them immunity from defeat. They have, in fact, shown us very clearly that, in order for the country to ever move forward, they must be replaced — the ones with four-year terms in two years, and the ones with six-year terms two years after that. All that is needed is good, honest candidates who are ready to work for the people, not backslapping, glad-handing politicians who socialize, showboat, and ingratiate themselves with us in order to get our vote, and then defraud us by only working for their own interests. Anyone who considers himself honest, able, and qualified should be giving this serious thought. Others who may not be interested in running themselves, should be looking for good candidates and encouraging and supporting them. Honest leadership is not just admirable; it is vital for our survival.

Is there anyone out there that has, or would be willing to take some digital pictures of Jenkins, Payne Gap, Fleming- Neon, Kona, Burdine or McRoberts? If so, please contact me at : BRANDONSMEMORY17 @yahoo.com. Thank you so much!

A certain person got away with nothing but probation. What is UNITE doing now? Can anybody say rat?

Hello, dream lover. The ice storm didn’t hit us; just rain. I hope the lakes will be full this year. I would like so very much to go holding hands and walking by the lake and going swimming this summer. But there is something I need to tell you, darling, something I’ve never gotten around to telling you before. I can’t swim. You’re going to have to teach me how. There are several things you’re going to have to teach your sunshine. I would love to learn from such a handsome hunk. Until you’re back in your sunshine’s arms, hugs, kisses and love.

I am following the path God has led, you see. He took His hand when he heard God call. He turned his back and left it all. He could not stay another day to laugh, to love, to work, or to play. Tasks left undone must stay that way. He found that peace at the break of day. If his parting has left a void, then fill it with remembered joy. A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss, oh yes, these things too I will miss. Be not burdened with times of sorrow. He wishes you the sunshine of tomorrow. His life was full, he savored much. Good friends, good times, a loved one’s touch. Perhaps his time seemed all too brief. Don’t lengthen it now with undue grief. Lift up your hearts and peace to thee. God wanted him now and set him free. In loving memory of Robert Chester Brown.

To a certain man: Have you shown the woman you’ve got your ex-wife? She’s pretty much just like her, isn’t she? It’s pretty bad when you have to go and get one just like your ex. Wait until this one finds out about you. She won’t stay with you long.

To my blue-eyed Gibbs: Did you hear they are putting Jacuzzis and hot tubs in the cabins at Breaks Interstate Park? Can you imagine us there for a weekend, or even a week, away from work and everything? That sound heavenly. Lotus blossom would be in full bloom and on cloud nine with stars in her eyes for weeks if she was there with blue-eyed Gibbs. If you’re not smiling, darling, I’ll Gibb you.

I know who you are. I saw what you were driving. And I wasn’t asleep.



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