Filed under: Current
It annoys me that they don’t say, “… and the Winner is …” Does it really make the fellow nominees feel any less like looooooosers? 
I think not.
I bought Little Miss Sunshine this weekend, and it was just amazing. I laughed, I cried. I felt good because, in contrast, my family is normal, though we were a Volkswagen Bus bound family on many a road trip back in the 70′s. The characters were at once unique and archetypical, watching the film I wondered who I identified with the most. Was I the angry teen? The eccentric uncle? The over-zealous dad? Hmmm, at least I wasn’t the crazy dope smoking grandfather, not yet anyway.
I also picked up The Departed, it was excellent, but it was no Goodfellas, hell, it wasn’t even My Cousin Vinny. I think Marty went to the gangster well one too many times; at least it was the Irish mob this time. It just makes me laugh to portray Patriots fans as tough guys, talk about suspension of disbelief. My nephew Thomas could kick Leo’s ass.
OK here are my picks:
Best Picture - Little Miss Sunshine (it won’t win but it should)
Best Actor - Forrest Whittaker should win, but Will Smith will win.
Best Actress - The Queen chick should win I guess, but I didn’t see any of those movies. Penelope Cruz could win on general hotness.
Supporting Actor - Eddie Murphy – as long as it stops him from making those annoying fat suit movies.
Supporting Actress - That girl from American Idol.
Best Director - Paul Greengrass for United 93 but that suck-up Scorsese will win.
Best Screen Writing - Michael Arndt and Sacha Cohen
Animated Film - Cars – Aidan helped me with this one.
Best Documentary - Better known as the Americans Suck Category – Big Al is gonna win, and he will probably be so obviously trying to look un-tree-like, it will be fun to watch.
Best Foreign Film – Who cares you can’t figure out what the hell they’re talking about anyway.
Best Song - I think its unfair that Dreamgirls has three of the five nominations.
Vinny 
February 24, 2007
Negril.com is Negril’s Official website, and they will be publishing some of my articles and reviews. The first one is featured on today’s home page, and is a review of The Appleton Estates Rum Tour.
You can find the article here: Negril.com – http://www.negril.com
You can read the full article here: Appleton Estates Rum Tour
Thanks Negril.com!
Vinny 
January 26, 2007
This past weekend I updated the “Reviews Page” on this site. I’d been trying to come up with a format, a ratings system, a color scheme, yada, yada, yada… But it was just not getting done, so I decided to read over my notes, and to write the damn things once and for all.
From the early days of this blog, way back in 2004, people have been asking me to put my opinions on record. As I wrote them I posted them on the Negril.com Message Board. I was happy with people’s reactions. My opinions caused quite a stir, and engendered a lively, even rowdy conversation, with thousands of page views and hundreds of responses.
I like to be positive, and I’m pretty easy to please, so you may notice most of these reviews are raves. I just found it easier to start with the places I’ve stayed, and with some of my favorite restaurants. Moving forward I will expand the field, I promise honest opinions, and I will pull no punches.
So, click the Reviews button on the top of this page, any feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
Peace
Vinny
January 15, 2007
Oh boy! It’s getting close. I’m reviewing my last minute checklist, and the rolling duffel is packed, but not yet zipped.
Today I start overfeeding Rosie The Cat. For the next few days she gets a can of Fancy Feast in the morning and another one at night. It’s all about feline abandonment guilt. She knows when I’m leaving for vacation, she gives me “that look”, and then she acts pissed for a few days after I return. It seems I have complicated relationships with every female in my life.
Then there’s housekeeping. I hate to go away and leave my place a mess (which is its default state). Thursday I did eight loads of laundry, wash dry and fold in two and a half hours. Impressive, huh. Friday and Saturday was spring cleaning, belated not proactive, so that when my neighbor come up to “look-in” on Rosie, she won’t be horrified.Â
Finally there’s Chrismas shopping. I never went on vacation this time of year before, and since I’m returning Christmas eve, there’s a pretty good chance everyone on my list is getting a t-shirt and a bottle of Pickapeppa. Well that’s not exactly true, I’ve done some shopping, and maybe I’ll do some this week, but I can’t go into any details.
I’m rambling aren’t i? Sorry. Go Eagles!!
Peace
Vinny
December 10, 2006
I know I’m supposed to be Vinny from Philly, but my job often causes me to worm my way into the Big Apple. Today is supposed to be the hottest day in NYC in 100 years, and somehow I ended up in the middle of the swelter-y-ing-ness-ism.
I’m in a Starbucks at 8th Ave betwixt 43rd and 44th Streets, it’s cool temperature-wise, relatively uncool as NYC coffee shops go. A pedesrian coffee shop one might say, not one I would normally get the urge to blog from, but any port in the proverbial storm.
I usually walk the 0.7 miles from my office to the Hoboken Train Station, it’s usually a nice walk, Hoboken is some kind of magnet for beautiful women, most of whom take the PATH train into NYC, but today I flagged down a cab, it was just too damned hot.
Once at the World Trade Center, I hopped on the wonderfully air-conditioned E Train which took me up to mid-town. The air in the NYC underground is stifling. Jeez! Luckily the place I was going to was about ten steps from the Subway entrance. I dropped off some parts to a colleague and walked half a block to perch here for a while.
My next move is to hop back on the E Train to 34th Street, (No–I’m not walking) and then hop a Yellow Train to Prince Street (Soho). I will then walk several steamy blocks to the Aroma Cafe to fix thier fingerprint software. I have fingerprint software fixing skills.
Part 2
I survived; barely. It is still really freakin’ hot! The “Real Feel” tempature at 3:30PM was 116 degrees.
I took a different track to my appointment. I saw signs for the Yellow Line right at 44th Street, which is all a part of the 42nd Street Concourse. I didn’t realize how far I had to walk to get to the Yellow Line. From 44th and 8th to about 41st and 7th, but it was better than walking in the sun. Still I was in full body free sweat by the time I got on my train.
I took the Yellow R Train to Prince Street, and the train’s A/C was working well. I was still soaked when I got to Aroma Cafe at Greene and Houston (pronounced HOW-stun). They were busy so I locked my stinky sweaty self in the well cooled office for a couple hours. By the time I hit the street again, I felt pretty cool. I dropped down into the Subway at Broadway & Lafayette, another cool train to Penn Station, and right onto a departing PATH train back to Hoboken. I wasn’t too bad after all, but now I’m heading back to Philly!
Keep Cool
Vinny
August 2, 2006
Well, it’s official. The much vaunted Christmas to New Year Negril trip is defunct 
I blame myself for getting everyone so excited, but I had no idea airline rates for that week would more than double. I knew it was primo traveling season, but I’ve done Negril in peak winter funtime, and it was only a little more expensive, air farily speaking. Â
It kinda sucks, I was hoping to see the ball drop from Times Square. Time Square Negril that is. I wonder if they do that? If not; they should, and if they do so on my suggestion, I want 10%!
Me, Kris, my Mom and Dad talked about it over the weekend, but the it really hit home when I sent my neice Tina the bad news, though I think she figured it out before we did.
Don’t fret Negril, I’ll be back, sooner than later. I’m thinking about a post Thanksgiving, pre-Hanukkah trip. Somwhere late November till just before Christmas. I have some friends thinking of going in that timeframe and there’s the Negril Reggae Marathon to think about. No, it’s not a bunch of Rastas with a rhumba box on speed, it’s a by-god official sporting event. They’ve got a kick-ass website anyway.
More on the trip as it takes shape…
Vinny Â
July 6, 2006
Ok, the kid was obnoxious and his unshaven, white-trash, obviously non-custodial dad lacked any semblance of parenting skills. I laughed to myself as they argued over the breakfast menu. A classic parent-child confrontation, and the kid was winning hands down. Cranberry juice seemed to be an important first course, there was an immediacy to the kid getting it. He did.
“Ok, now take your pill,†dad slurs thru broken, rotting and/or missing teeth. The kid pops the tiny white orb. Dad sighed with relief. I lost my appetite.
Does this kid even have a chance? Hopefully mom married better the second time around, this was a pretty nice neighborhood, mine.
 I thought back, how did I learn to sit still in a restaurant? Oh yeah, my dad would grab hold of the short hairs on the back of my head, it would only hurt if I moved, and I’d snap to attention fast. Sure, “catholic discipline†left a few tracks on my psyche, but at least I avoided the cradle-to-grave drug dependence obviously the master plan of the evil meglo-pharmacrat pulling the societal strings. Worse yet, all the so-called experts agree.
These so-called experts say, “without them [kiddy drugs], little Jimmy can’t sit still long enough to learn.†Shut up! You loosing piece of crap! What have the leading experts, guilty parents, and unionized teachers given us: illiteracy, ever rising drop-out rates, oh yeah, don’t forget the occasional school massacre conveniently blamed on violent video games and gangsta-rap.
I don’t say I’m a great parent, but thankfully I married one once. When my daughter was in third grade, the teacher called my ex-wife in and said, “We think Kristine is A.D.D. and should be medicated.†Lucky for Kristine my occasionally evil ex-wife went nuts, she told the teacher maybe she should challenge the kids so they’re not so damned bored. The next year, in a new school, Kristine was put in accelerated classes and has thrived ever since: drug free. Well, except maybe a likkle ganja when she visits Negril, she is my daughter after all. Â
Headache: Take Tylenol. Muscle-tension: Aleve. Stress: Prozac. Insomnia: Ambien. Hemorrhoids: Anusol. Heartburn: Well, you can’t have heartburn anymore. Since our friends at AstroZeneca invented Nexuim, the purple pill, you have Acid Reflux Disease, which is exactly the same as heartburn, but much, much worse.
Shouldn’t the answer be, cut out the daily pizza, drink some water, stop abusing yourself? Save the money you spend on drugs and take a vacation. Oh, that’s right, drugs are free, or at lease included in your benefits package, and when the country is sufficiently addicted we’ll get the government to pay for them, yeah that’s the ticket! Look how happy the Canadians are! They’re so drugged out all their comedians have to come here to get a rise out of someone. Pamela Anderson? Let’s not even go there!
It’s a big issue, who has the answer? I do! Deal with it! It’s really that simple, do these drugs really make our life better? The same people foisting pharmaceuticals on the lemming populous keep telling our kids to Say No To Drugs.
Kids need to know right and wrong, absolutes are ok, they’re tough, they can handle it. They can learn all about moral relativism in college, assuming they didn’t spend their childhood drugged into submission.
Rantingly Yours,
Vinny
July 2, 2006
I spent the last few days working in Philly. Center City, as we call it, is known for it’s historical edifi, it’s public sculptures, The Art Museum, and the new National Constitution Center. But I love it for it for the street food!
You’d expect the “City of Neighborhoods” to have great restaurants, but the street vendors are amazing. In New York City you can get the famous “dirty water hot dog,” but in Philly you can get a meal.
 Â
Wednesday morning I got off the R2 Warminster at Suburban Station. I walked past the dozen or so shops in the station concourse, and up to street level to visit Tom’s Lunch Cart. It was about 9AM and I hadn’t had breakfast. I waited patiently as a woman gave Tom strict orders on exactly how he was to prepare her, whatever it was. The gray haired Tom smiled and joked with her as he happily went about his work.
I’d only been there a few times, but Tom, and his wife, who was filling the beverage bin preparing for the lunch rush, both greeted me like an old friend. I ordered two eggs with scrapple and cheese on a roll with salt, pepper and hot sauce. My mouth watering as he efficiently prepared my food, I was shocked when my bill was only $2.75.
I paid him, said goodbye, and scurried across the street like a squirrel with an especially good acorn. I sat in the beautiful Love Park, and opened my “Heaven in a Bag.” Words just can’t describe the crispy, yet gooey scrappley yumminess mixing gently with egg and hot sauce on the world famous Amoroso Roll. A true culinary orgasm!
I went into an adjacent building, and did my work thing for half the day. At about 3PM I was walking back through the park thinking about lunch. Right there on 16th Street, between Market & JFK, there are several great food carts with fantastic cheesesteaks, South Philly sausage, and even fruit salad if you’re feeling guilty.
 I walked past them all to hit “The King of Falafel.” I don’t think he’s really a king, it’s the best falafel in Philly.
This time I got a falafel sandwich with baba ganouj. Insead of a pita they put it in a wrap-like thingy, much like the Jamiacan roti, some hot sauce; Woo Hoo, another great meal!
Check out the “Roach Coaches” next time you’re in Philly!
Peace
Vinny
June 16, 2006
My daughter Kristine was born twenty years ago today! WOW!Â
I remember like it was yesterday! Meeting Kris for the first time, I knew right away she was cool! Her mom was there too, making a lot of noise if I remember correctly, but I did most of the work. It’s stressful in them delivery rooms!
I have to admit to getting a bit misty looking through her photos, I think I feel an ode coming on!
Kristine’s Twentieth Birthday Ode
O’ Kristine, O’ Kristine
O’ How I love thee
You looked like this when you were about three
Once such a cutie
You’ve grown into a beauty!
You play, You sing, You dance
OK, and occasionally you prance
Your look has changed year by year
But there were no facial piercings for Dad to fear
You work so hard, and you play the same
It amazes me how you win your game!
Although below you’re looking a tad bit lame, but I don’t mean to flame
So take today and try to chill,
I send you my love, my heart it does fill
Just think, in six months we’ll be back in Negril!!
Happy Birthday Kris!
Love,
Dad
May 14, 2006
When I’m not in Negril, my company designs, sells and services point of sale computer systems for restaurants, bars and the like. One of my latest projects is with a new fast food chain called JerkQ’zine, it’s Jamaican fast food!
I got back from Jamaica a few weeks ago just when they were to open thier first store outside Atlanta. My head was still spinning from a week in paradise and I found myself immersed in Jamaican culture once again! I had Curried Goat for lunch last Thursday! How cool is that?!
Of course my system ran perfectly so I got to spend four days, eating patties, and talking to the Jamaican community of Atlanta. Getting paid to eat and talk about Jamaica, sometimes I love my job!
Then today, I’m in a hotel in Cape May, NJ and I hear tell-tale Jamaican patios. Two brothers from Falmouth run the kitchen. We chatted awhile, it was a lot of fun.
Not back to Negril till Boxing Day Seems sooo long
Vinny
May 10, 2006
Yeah it’s my birthday, all bow and pay homage!
The big 42, entering my 43rd year. I feel I should be reflecting, thinking big thoughts, answering big questions, but it’s almost like every other day. I say almost because my Mom got me a Carvel ice cream cake!!
Normally Mom also makes me Manicotti on my birthday, pronounced ‘Mana-gott” in our house, but since it’s a Friday and the joint will be filled with Catholics, and at least one reforming Catholic, we’re going sans meat and settling for stuffed shells. It’s not really settling, my Mom makes awesome italian food especially for a girl from Limerick.
MMMM Ice Cream Cake…
Maybe I’ll get profound tomorrow or Saturday. For now it’s the Bogan “Birthday of the Week” month. My much older sister Anne on the 5th, baby Aidan the 8th, Me on the 10th and Michael the 28th. I’m sure I’m leaving someone out, but that’s it for the immediate family.
So, feel free to send cards, gifts, money and well wishes…
Vinny
March 10, 2006
OK, I know it wasn’t on my finalists list, but Petrona made me an offer I couldn’t refuse!
It would have been a finalist, but the prices don’t drop till a few weeks after my target date. So I took a shot and emailed Petrona, the hotel’s manager, to see what was available. I was in luck, there were several openings, and she gave me an awesome deal.
She thanked me for writing nice things about her place. I didn’t write what I wrote so I would get deals, but it was a nice gesture.
I can’t be bought!! Can I?
My excitement level went up 50% since I booked. I downloaded Time Left and was suddenly a little depressed when it showed I had over 3.5 million seconds to go!
It looks like a great week for a Negril trip, quite a few Negril friends are going to be there, and my friend Dolores may pop down for a few days.
I guess it’s into eager traveler mode for me. I apologize in advance for being obnoxious and annoying for the next 40 days.
40 days and 40 nights!! Hey that doesn’t add up, it’s March 6, and I fly out April 16th. I guess it’s 40 days from Mardi Gras till Good Friday, not till Easter Sunday.
Oh Yes, I’m flying Easter Sunday, is there a better day to fly into Negril?
Re-Birth, Awakening, I’m there dude!
Peace
Vinny
Painting shamelessly stolen from: Louise Drouin Robinson – LINK
March 6, 2006
I like trains. I take them often. They give me the time and the solitude to read and/or write. So, on Monday I figured the train would be a superior choice over negotiating traffic after the Great Nor’easter of 2006.
After a full days work I walked the half mile to the Hoboken Train Station, I usually ride the subway-esque path train from small Hoboken Station to big Newark Station for points south, Trenton, Philly, home.
This Monday genius boy decided to try the cushy, well heated NJ Transit train out of Hoboken at 6:01, change at Secaucus Transfer Station and pick up the 6:21 Northeast Corridor to Trenton with a connection to Philly.
NJ Transit said they had computer problems and due to the twenty inches of snow, they had to re-route trains all over the state, I think there was a conspiracy to trick a small group of weary travelers.
A big red sign lit up at Track B in the Secaucus Transfer Station, each train line has a corresponding color, the Trenton line is red. The sign read “Northeast Corridor 6:21PM Track B.” An announcer parrots these words and in a few seconds a huge friggin’ train pulls in with the word “TRENTON” festooned all over it in big bright lime colored LED letters.
So, being trusting, I stepped aboard, the doors closed and the computer generated car announcement said “Train to Trenton, next stop Newark Penn Station.” I sat back in the comfortable maroon faux leather seat, and felt good about my decision to go this route. I had a window seat just one stop ahead of the hoards that come aboard at Newark making it a standing room only trip.
“What was that?!?” my brain screamed!
He repeated, “THIS IS THE SUMMIT EXPRESS, PLEASE DISREGARD THE CAR ANNOUNCEMENT, I REPEAT, THIS IS THE SUMMIT EXPRESS, THIS TRAIN IS GOING TO SUMMIT.”
I freaked! I felt like a trapped animal! I scurried to and fro scratching on the windows as the station disappeard into the night, trying to get my mind around what just happened.
Standing in the aisle, I could see through several cars to an older conductor speaking to a petite Asian woman with flailing arms, and a really exasperated looking Indian guy. As I approached the situation I realized the kindly older conductor was a burned out government employed jack-ass with the empathy and slack-jawed cluelessness of a newt (please feel free to substitute the slimy invertebrate of your choice).
After she was done and got no satisfaction, I chimed in, but soon realized I was wasting my time talking to a brick wall. I don’t mean to disparage brick walls, at least they stand firm while you talk to them, he just held up his employee ID.
I didn’t get mad, ballistic asshole man did not make an appearance. A fellow traveler told me the head conductor is up front and that I should go talk to the boss. So I walked through half a dozen cars and found the boss.
I told him our situation, somehow becoming the spokesman for our little group. I guess union seniority trumps middle management, since he never addressed the dolt six cars back, but he did raise some hell and called a few people and seemed like he was on our side. It was kind of like the McDonald’s manager that seems personally angry that your Filet-O-Fish came to you sans tartar sauce.
The long and short of it was we had to get off at Summit, walk over to the middle track and take the very next train to New York, get off at Secaucus Transfer Station and try again to get to Trenton. The instructions came along with a most sincere apology.
There were about ten affected travelers on the middle platform in Summit when the very next train arrived, and like lemmings we boarded.
In less than three minutes aboard the train to make right the evenings wrongs, I saw an attractive woman in a red coat sitting across the aisle with a most flabbergasted look on her face. She was speaking to a conductor, “What do you mean this train isn’t stopping at Secaucus!!” she said in calm, shocked disbelief.
And with that same, I live at the teat of the New Jersey taxpayer attitude, deadpan but appreciably less smarmy delivery, “Nope, but you can get off at Newark Broad Street, then catch a bus or taxi to Newark Penn Station, or you can go back to New York.”
I spoke up, but she just listened and replied in the exact same words, though at least her implied “F**k You” gave her just a tinge of personality.
The Lady in the red coat and I went back and forth a few times trying to figure a way just to get on any train headed south.
“It would be funny if it wasn’t happening to me,” she joked.
We decided to split a cab and get to Newark Penn Station as soon as we could, but as we got off the train and to the street, the bus was just pulling up. The only good timing NJ Transit showed all night!
I was actually getting excited, I had a good chance of getting the 7:30 train to Trenton, then the 8:40 to Philly and maybe be home by ten.
I dashed off the bus and all but ran through the station, leaving my new friends behind. I arrived on Track 4 at 7:33, looked up to the board and saw the 7:30 Trenton was running five minutes late, woo hoo! finally a break!
Looking around the crowded platform, I realized my train had several trains ahead of it. I stood there out of breath and confused trying to digest what was going on.
Then came the garbled announcement, ” The 7:28 Long Branch Local will be arriving on Track 4 in ten to fifteen minutes, the 7:30 Trenton will be five minutes behind that, Long Branch first, Trenton Second on Track 4.”
It didn’t take too long to figure the math, I’d miss the connection at Trenton and wouldn’t be home till almost midnight.
I gave in and laughed aloud. Its funny the looks one gets when one bursts into laughter in a public place full of dreary commuters.
I looked up to see the petite Asian girl, the Indian guy, the Lady in the red coat and a few others from the misdirected Summit crew, we’d kind of bonded. They were the only others laughing.
Peace
Vinny
AKA-Disgruntled Traveler
February 16, 2006
I’m a roof cleaner, I’m also a cart returner and a hose roller.
Continue February 13, 2006
I must admit the main reason for cutting my hair was plain ‘ol vanity. In this year’s Christmas pictures I looked like an outlaw biker minus the leather chaps. Not that I have anything against bikers, but I picture myself with the dark, thick, flowing mane of my youth, but I realized I was headed for grey, thin, scraggly old guy hair; more Willy Nelson than Fabio.
Continue January 12, 2006
2006 is looking like a great year so far! Best wishes to all my friends and family for a great year.
Next year Me, Kris, my parents, and my neice Tina will be celebrating New Year’s Eve at 3Dives in Negril! I’m also planning an Easter Week trip.
Starting 2006 with a new look and an upgraded blog. Thanks to a new hosting company and the magic of WordPress and Gallery 2.0, expect many enhancements over the next few months.
Stay Tuned!
Peace
Vinny
January 1, 2006
Van Gogh is gone. I’m on another train. I love the rhythmic rolling of the springs on uneven rail. As a kid I’d lay on the tracks, their parallels touching, an infinite smoothness before me. So smooth, why do trains rock so? It soothes me, though there’s a part of me that doesn’t understand it.
Such a curious conveyance, a rush hour crowd of seasoned straphangers mime away the trip, some stand, some sit, by two, by three. Shiny shoes, expensive suits and extended accounts. I lean like a scolioid serpent giving my neighbor room without leaning too far into the aisle space.
A girl across from me, bobbed blonde hair a sweet seriousness on her furrowed brow, notices an older man standing. She offers her seat seeming embarrassed to be sitting. She’d gotten there early enough to have a seat, her long dangly jade earrings jangle at the collar of her irregular striped shirt of limes and greens. I look over nonchalantly, she’s writing too.
The older man did not take her seat. She was beautiful in her selflessness. To no one in particular he asked, “Do I look that old?”
Everyone within earshot laughed; to me he didn’t look very old at all. My first thought had been that she was being excessive.
“I’m sixty-nine years old†he stated meaning only.
Damn, he did look good for his age, bravo old standing guy!
NJ Transit trains have such warmth about them. The faux leather seats and the faux oak paneling made sense to someone once. They rile up sweet memories of holiday parade trips with my sisters and the Nolans just old enough to travel un-chaperoned. We struck out timidly fearless with the wild imagination of adolescence into a pre-Rudy New York City. Next it was Grateful Dead shows and CBGB’s adventures blurring years between.
My best memories of NYC train trips are with Kristine when she was six or seven, watching her eyes widen and her mind open, grasping the bigness of the world. There’s a great picture of her on my brother Michael’s shoulders standing under the Broadway street sign at Times Square her arms outstretched and yelling, “I’ll be backâ€.
She’s working on it.
November 4, 2005
Once I get to the Laundromat I carry one basket in and check out the situation, it’s 7:30AM on a Sunday and the entire line of single load machines are empty, oh yes, this will be a good day!
Continue October 9, 2005
Since our girl Katrina slammed the Gulf Coast, gas station owners all over the US, and specifically in Southeastern PA and NJ saw an opportunity to gouge us motorists to the tune of about a buck a gallon.
Of course it’s the same gas in the ground, but that doesn’t matter to the Gas Cabal. I paid $3.23 the day after Katrina hit, and we hadn’t even been hit with the rain from the damn storm yet! A few days later it was $3.42 and then $3.49. Appalling!
As the shock of people trudging through putrid water towards helpless help centers began to wear off, us folks in PA/NJ began to freak out a little about the whole gas thing and someone heard us. Imagine that.
Sometime last week an enterprising politician in Union County NJ decided to give summonses to gas station owners citing some “Anti-Gouging†law passed after 9/11. The idea caught on and by Friday gas station owners realized they had to show up in court with receipts and delivery dates to justify their confiscatory rates.
Today I paid $2.99. Hmm, what happened over the weekend? Maybe it was the New Orleans Saints’ upset over the Carolina Panthers that made these people think, “Maybe it wasn’t so bad down there after all.â€
Being a registered Libertarian, I usually distain government intervention, but I liked this result.
The only bad thing is $20.00 worth of gas at $2.99 and 9/10ths equals 6.66 gallons.
Evil?!?
September 12, 2005
Welcome to New Orleans?
Bottled Water Relief is easy to do!
I don’t know if this is very funny, terribly sad, or madly infuriating?
What a Waste!!
Just in case you need a link:
Project Brotherly Love
Donate at WAWA!
Donate at Amazon
Donate at Red Cross.org
Donate at the Salvation Army
Craig’s List New Orleans
NOLA.com
September 3, 2005
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