Those you who have been around here for ten years or so know that I had myself a charming little hair pulling spitting match with a neighbor of mine. Yeah, a neighbor. We literally live in the same county commissioner precinct together. Her name is Cathy Engelbrecht.
She’s a real stinker.
Back then, she used to go around my county preaching to low information voters, and old people over at the Lutheran church, about how Democrats were stealing elections. She asked them for money to fund her little “research.” That was cute to me because I was also doing research and I didn’t ask anybody for money. True, I got a local newspaper to pay me to do it. But local newspapers ain’t a well-spring of money and she lived in a fancier house than I did and drove a much fancier car.
Oh Lord, I can feel a story coming on and I do rattle, but stick with me if you have the time because it’s kinda a good story and I don’t do this but maybe two or three times a year. Okay, may six. I carry on maybe six, or it could be 7 times a year.
So, here’s Cathy giving all these “trainings” around the county. I go to one and she doesn’t recognize me because she doesn’t read newspapers. Afterwards, I stick around to ask her about some of the math in one of her presentation slides because the percentages added up to 114%. She said I didn’t understand it. I pulled a pocket calculator out of my purse and added it right up as we stood there. She blamed “an aide” for the mistake. I giggled because she ain’t got no damn aide.
Anyway, I wrote about it in the newspaper along with some other mistakes she made. She did not take my constructive criticism well. She called my boss and said she would never interview with our newspaper again. My boss said she was delighted to hear that, and would she please put it in writing because we have a Wall of Jackasses in the reception office of people who won’t speak to us but they can’t complain about it because … you know … they ain’t speaking to us.
It was at that point that the gods of good intentions knew we needed some help with this woman. My boss gets an anonymous call that a Republican candidate for county commissioner in our county was bragging to the Republican party chairman how he voted twice the past three elections. Bragging. I love bragging. Especially from men. And double especially if it’s the candidate for county commissioner in the same precinct as me and Cathy Engelbrecht.
Boss and I knew this guy was from Pennsylvania. At the time, getting official voting records from Pennsylvania is harder than Chinese algebra. So, because I have happy ties to the Democratic Party, I called the Democratic Party office in Pennsylvania, shared a couple of Democratic passwords with the nice lady who answered the phone and within 15 minutes we had this guy’s voting record.
Sure ’nuff, both he and his wife were voting twice. In Texas that was a third degree felony. I’m sure Pennsylvania has laws against it, too.
Of course this was followed by lengthy lame excuses from the Republican District Attorney on why he wouldn’t prosecute. Here’s one of the last times I wrote about it. Boss put it on the front page of the newspaper.
Which, finally!, brings us to today. Hi, Cathy! Been missing you, Girlfriend.
One of former President Donald Trump’s favorite election conspiracists promised to find evidence of fraud, but instead diverted more than $1 million in donations to herself, her longtime partner, and an attorney.
Ah, she’s still grifting.
Think I ought to send her a “Been Missing You” card?