Gentle readers of Fraser Michigan;
You people are lightweights.
You obviously haven't done your homework and thoroughly read the years of research that this blog provides. A cursory glance at a few recent articles just doesn't give you the proper insight into the diseased mind of a Mongoose.
You see, folks, Marty wins whenever he can get any media attention, whatsoever. Probably the worst part is that anyone who watched WXYT tonight now believes that Marty Prehn is a representative of your community - maybe even a respected member of your society. For all you know, he's printing up new business cards with 48026 on them. We've seen it before. After tonight, he doesn't just have his cloven hoof in the door, he has half of his piss-soaked pant leg in there and working on the other one!
The game isn't over, but you apparently don't realize what you're up against and you've got to step it up, damnit! Cast this evil demon from your peaceful village and back to the Bowels of Hell that is the Lair!
"Mongoose, I beseech thee, return to that from whence you squatted!"
Sorry for the tough love routine, but Marty Prehn in your community is far worse than any sewage backing up into your basements from that sinkhole. And the smell... Oh, the smell. Those new benches at Stephens Park will have to be destroyed once they're caked with Mongoose butt cheese and your playground for your children, Fort Fraser, will become his imaginary Command Post, much like he attempted with the Roseville Georgian Inn. Imagine a world where it's commonplace to see Marty Prehn washing out his only pair of filthy underwear in the goldfish pond of your beloved bank building...
You've given him a beachhead in this war and his spoils are your reputations and livelihoods.
Think of your property values, people. Think of your adolescent daughters!
Heed our advice or may God have mercy on your souls.
Tut
