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And the award goes to ... 

It’s that beautiful time of year when celebrities throw on their sequins and high heels and congratulate each other for their willingness to bring laughter and tears into the lives of us workaday plebeians. God bless them for sharing their beautiful faces and only slightly overwrought insights. 

Inspired by their example, I’ve decided to devote my savings to Botox in the hopes that when I, too, am beautiful, people will want to throw a lavish party to congratulate me for doing my job. I’m not entirely certain how much Botox it’s going to take, but during my consultation, the aesthetician grimaced, vomited into her designer handbag, and said something about bringing out the big guns.

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While I’m waiting for the botulism to work its magic, I’m going to practice for my new VIP status by throwing an awards show right here. So dump some chili cheese fries in the microwave and prepare to laugh, to cry, and possibly to nap.

For my first award of Best White People’s Problems, I’ve nominated every comment written in the comments section after an article, the people in Morro Bay who are upset about the construction of a parklet, and the woman who’s single-handedly leading the charge against a piece of public art (and, previously, a crosswalk assistance device for the blind).

And the Shreddie goes to Peg Pinard, for her display of unprecedented self-importance and willingness to rile up an entire community because the public art in her neighborhood just isn’t to her taste. I don’t have space to print her entire acceptance speech, but I assume it will include a nod to Mayor Jan Marx for enabling her in this venture. 

The award for Most Out of Touch Advisory Council only has one nomination, because researching advisory councils is really, really boring, and I’ve been busy bedazzling my pet Chihuahua, Princess Dingleberry, for our coming out to society debutante ball/kegger/thing.

And the Shreddie goes to the South County Advisory Council for advising against a proposal for a brick-and-mortar medical marijuana dispensary in Nipomo. Of course the real losers in this venture are all the people who are forced to drive hundreds of miles to legally acquire their medical marijuana. And the people who are forced to live in Nipomo without ready access to weed, of course. 

If I had access to a large screen, which I could use during this very important awards show to zoom in on particular moments of the meeting, I would show you the part where one of the advisory council members (who wound up voting against the dispensary) talked about how his sister had died from cancer and probably would have survived if she’d had access to medical marijuana, and the biddies at the back of the room snickered. They snickered and then most likely went home to a medicine cabinet full of prescription medication that has clearly turned their brains to taffy. I’m guessing it’s done a number on their impulse control as well, if they’re unable to refrain from laughing when a man discusses his sister dying from cancer. As for their lack of empathy, I have no explanation for that.

The award for Worst Column Supposedly About Coffee but Really About Entitlement with Racist Undertones also has only one nomination, and I think we all know who it is. Who else could write a lead paragraph about a quick little jaunt to the local casino that manages to complain about having to spend $47 on gas and the fact that her iPhone was “treading 20 percent battery threshold”? Who else could make a point of disdainfully referring to the patrons of a Santa Ynez casino as “strawberry farmers,” which is apparently a life form that doesn’t deserve to inhale the same oxygen as a gaggle of students slumming in Santa Ynez for a good time?

That’s right, folks, the winner for the hotly contested Worst Column Supposedly About Coffee but Really About Entitlement with Racist Undertones is Mustang News’ The Coffee Snob, who apparently doesn’t understand that the “snob” part of her name is supposed to be cheeky and endearing rather than upsetting and accurate.

Lest you argue, as I initially did, that the piece is really a brilliant example of satire, the columnist’s tweet for the night was “we’ve we’ve [sic] waiting for valet pick up at a casino for 20 minutes now.”

Our final Shreddie, for Law Enforcement Official Who Might Have Broken the Law and Was Fired Rather than Facing What the Rest of Us Would Have, could go to so many local cops if it weren’t for the fact that so few of them are investigated and subsequently punished by their department for wrongdoing. 

On Valentine’s Day, District Attorney Dan Dow gave veteran investigator A.J. Santana the gift of unemployment by announcing his departure after an investigation into claims that Santana lied on an affidavit. The DA’s office, of course, released the shortest press release ever written about the incident, and also declined to confirm whether the allegations were true. Considering the stand-by-your-man-in-blue mentality that seems to pervade law enforcement, it seems unlikely that he turned up squeaky clean. Of course, if I had lied on an affidavit, I would probably be cooling my heels in jail or facing criminal charges. Law enforcement officers, on the other hand, seem generally immune to serious jail time; I guess they’re a lot like celebrities in that sense.

 

Shredder’s smiling, but you can’t tell. Send laugh lines to shredder@newtimesslo.com.

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