From my brother firefighter Tony in Philly...Here are some observations from the recent Harrisburg Fire Expo show:"If nothing else, I have to witness again and again the immutable fact that the fire service will take anybody." Dewly Whacker, wearing the stained tee shirt stretched tight over his gut, carrying the $1500 light bar that he will install on his $200 truck, while his tired-looking and very ugly wife pushes the carriage containing the mean little results of his sperm colliding with her ovum in a long ago moment of Mad Dog 20/20 inspired passion. Next comes Norbert Fuzz, Grand Emperor of the Fire Police Squadron in Lanced Boil Springs. Despite the fact that he is 700 miles from home, he carries two 500 channel pocket scanners, his monitor, a cell phone, baton, handcuffs, flare gun, CS teargas, and probably has a Walther PPK secreted on his person. His vehicle of choice would be an LTD Crown Victoria with an Edge bar, grille strobes, an arrowstick, Federal Q siren and wigwag headlights. This man masturbates while reading a Gall's catalog. Following them is Sylvia Cruntley, Ladies Auxiliary President of Buttcrack Heights VFD. Her lavender stretch pants have reached critical mass, and when her pager beeps, little children have been known to cry, "Look out-I think she's backing up!" Her t-shirt is mblazoned with "got milk?" yet the mere thought of those leviathan mammaries is enough to wilt the most stalwart of Woodrows. As she shuffles past, munching on her 3rd funnel cake of the morning, the sight of her flesh in motion reminds one of two hogs in a burlap sack, wrestling over a Snickers bar. Entertainment such as this knows no equal.
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