– Watertown NY, By Hans Wilder
Alright, folks, gather ‘round the TV screen of life, because we’ve got a hot scoop from the frozen tundra of Watertown, New York—where the snow’s deep, the coffee’s weak, and the politics are about to get weirder than a three-legged dog chasing its own tail. Some guy named Paul Lawarance Ward—yeah, that’s right, three names, like he’s auditioning for a royal title or a serial killer documentary—has thrown his hat into the ring for city council in the 2025 election. And guess what? Nobody’s taking him seriously. Not a soul. Zero. Zilch. Nada. It’s like he’s the human equivalent of a participation trophy, and Watertown’s just patting him on the head, saying, “Sure, Paul, you go play candidate now.”
But here’s the kicker, ladies and gentlemen—and you might wanna sit down for this, or at least lean against something sturdy—Watertown better watch its ass. Because this guy could pull off the upset of the century, fueled by what I like to call the Idiot Vote. You know the type: the folks who vote for the name they recognize from a yard sign they saw while drunk, or because they think “Lawarance” sounds like “Lawrence of Arabia” and they’re secretly hoping he’ll ride in on a camel to fix the potholes. If Paul taps into that magical well of glorious, uninformed democracy, then boom—he’s in, and Watertown’s stuck with him like a bad tattoo from a spring break they don’t talk about.
And then what? Oh, then the fun really starts. You’ll have to interview him, Watertown! You’ll have to sit down with Paul Lawarance Ward—platform or no platform, ideas or no ideas—and ask him, “So, Paul, what’s your plan? More snowplows? Legalize public napping? Turn the city into a giant ice fishing resort?” And he’ll probably just blink at you three times and say something profound like, “Well, I like trucks,” because that’s the kind of deep thought you get when the Idiot Vote crowns its king.
So, go get ‘em, Paul! Charge into that election like a bull in a china shop, or at least like a guy who wandered into the council chambers thinking it was a bingo night. Whether he’s got a vision for Watertown or just a vision of free donuts at the meetings, it doesn’t matter. The people might just hand him the keys to the kingdom—or at least the keys to the municipal garage. And when they do, don’t say I didn’t warn you, Watertown. You’ve been sleepwalking through this one, and now you might wake up with Councilman Paul Lawarance Ward, the guy nobody saw coming, because nobody bothered to look. Good luck, you frozen bastards—you’re gonna need it!
