As the president of the Alameda Cultural Heritage Education Society, I am writing to demand that our good-for-nothing Mayor and those bozos on the City Council immediately approve a sweeping rescue plan to stanch the hemorrhaging of funds from donations to A.C.H.E.S. Without an immediate infusion of cash from the City, it is entirely possible that A.C.H.E.S. may not be able to put on the 19th Annual Celebrity Grump-A-Thon. The consequences of such a disaster are too devastating to enumerate; simply put, A.C.H.E.S. is too grumpy to fail.
But how, you ask, did it come to this? Back in August of 2o07, A.C.H.E.S. treasurer Mabel Grimloch suggested that we take the proceeds from the 18th Annual Celebrity Grump-A-Thon and invest them in a complex but innovative new class of financial instruments known as "jackpot-backed securities." Everything was going according to plan on our second night in Vegas; we were up $2,135.17 when Marlene Verloren insisted that we wager $2,000 on a red snake bet at the roulette table. She said she hadn't been so sure about anything since 1945, but I'll be darned if we didn't lose it all. By the time we paid for our bus fare back to Alameda, $14.37 was all that remained in the A.C.H.E.S. treasury.
Looking back, there's no way anyone possibly could have foreseen the fate that befell us at the roulette table. Remember, we played it safe; after all, if we had done something foolish like invest it in the stock market, we could have lost everything! Given that we only had the best interest of Alameda at heart, and given the fact that we didn't personally profit from this whole misadventure at all—well, nothing apart from the champagne, the caviar, and the four-star suite at Caesars Palace, anyway—we think it is only fitting that we should receive a massive government bailout. Besides, we doubt that the taxpayers would want the champagne and caviar back at this point. That's all bubbly wine and fish eggs under the bridge!
Monday, September 22, 2008