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Sunday, November 06, 2005



So New Yorkers will be going to the polls in two days to choose who they want to be mayor. I really wish I could make myself give a shit who wins, but it just isn't happening. I don't like Mike Bloomberg. He's taking credit for this huge turn-around in the New York City schools that is basically all in his head. The system still sucks and is still riddled with problems. Teachers went for three years without a contract and only got one last month because Mayor Mike didn't want them to endorse his opponent. Bloomberg has done nothing spectacular while in office. I suppose the fact that he never allowed the city to be overrun by flesh-eating zombies is a plus in his column, but there ain't a whole lot else to brag about.

On the other hand, Fernando Ferrer has all the charisma of chilled wheat paste. If he won, he'd be the first Latino mayor of New York, but I'd really rather wait until Edward James Olmos or some other, more interesting person takes a stab at it. Maybe I'd be more motivated to vote if Ferrer promised to do something really bizarre if elected. Perhaps he could guarantee that his first act as mayor would be to take off all his clothes and streak through Grand Central Station. Or he could proclaim that, as soon as he takes office, he'll call for a $100, 000 bounty on Donald Trump's hair, dead or alive. Something.

As it stands now, I'm not feeling it. And I haven't even bothered to look into the smaller races. I don't give a shit who my city council representative is and I couldn't even name the candidates for Manhattan Borough President. I'm lame, I realize.

Maybe I burned out all of my political rage on the 2004 campaign. Or maybe I'm just smoking a little too much crack.

Say, that'd make for a more interesting mayoral campaign. What if one of the candidates started really courting the crackhead vote? Actually went into the crackhouses and helped people light their pipes? Showed that he really cared about the needs of today's modern crackhead? (Which, of course, is: crack.) That might shake things up a bit.

Or if either Bloomberg or Ferrer called a press conference to reveal that they're a hermaphrodite. I'd vote for a hermaphrodite in a second.

But that's not going to happen. A whopping 2% of New Yorkers will drag their sorry asses to the polls on Tuesday and Bloomberg will be given another four years to make his friends a whole shitload of money. Insert outrage here.

My name is Barry Popik, and I'm running on the Republican-Liberal lines (with Mayor Bloomberg) for Manhattan Borough President. I don't always agree with him (spending is way too high, and we're in for serious budget deficit problems next year), but he's miles better than Ferrer. I'm an administrative law judge and a NYC scholar, known for solving "the Big Apple." I'm not courting the "Wack" vote, but please visit my popular website, where you'll find this:
Listen, Mr. Judge, you may fool a lot of voters with your big city smoothness and your scholarly charm, but this is one vote you can't buy, man. No matter how many junior staffers you have trolling for blogger votes, I float down my own creek, man. Viva la revolucion!
Sorry, I'm just kidding, Mr. Popik. Actually, I'm registered with the Green Party, so I'll be writing in Ralph Nader for borough president.
dood, you're being courted by some political droog! You've made an impact amongst volunteer stoners using their candidate's broadband connection to find shit to laugh at.

Hi, MY name is Barry Popik, and I'm trying to get the word out about an Internet impostor who's spamming the blogs of anyone who dares to comment on New York City politics.

Unlike the impostor's attempts to defame me claim, I'M running along lines, alright--lines of cocaine snorted off the bellies of tranny prosses across the borough. My special interests include slaying small minority children and then wearing their skin as a way of recapturing a childhood lost to politics. I was always so concerned about being my Cub Scout pack leader, or 6th grade homeroom president, that I never took time to stop and enjoy my youth.

So other than the skin thing, which is really more recreational, I'm running this year on a platform of violent, public masturbation. If you don't do it, or don't WANT it, I don't want your stinking vote.

I believe that ALL people are created equally inferior to middle-aged wage-earning home-owning corporately-entrenched super-educated white Christian male judges. If you don't believe me, ask Juan, my hispanic gardner, who is occasionally fortunate enough to take long loving tokes on my cock. That PROVES that I believe in racial and socioeconomic harmony. In other words: I will spray my seed in the eye of any man without regards to race, creed or religion.

Well, let's get out there and ROCK the VOTE! It's pronounced PAH-pik, people!
Actually, I am the real Barry Popik. You know, the guy who single-handedly traced back the origins of the phrase "Big Apple"? It comes from a newspaper column written by John J. Fitz Gerald. And this type of attention to detail is why you should elect me Manhattan Borough President.

So if you like meticulousness and a willingness to smoke donkey pole, I'm the candidate for you.
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