We do not pretend to understand this man. If we thought we did that would just frighten us. Just please. Please. As undignified as it is to beg, do not reelect him. At numerous points during this meeting he seemed to be channeling this message himself.

The meeting started with a moment of silence in which Billy prayed to the flag, like always. Making the sweeping assumption that his religion aligns with most people of his brand of politics, it seems he did not get the “do not worship false gods before me” memo. Even if we’re wrong about his personal beliefs, it remains super weird for someone who hates the government as much as he does.

If you were following our drinking game, right out of the gate you racked up some bacon vodka shots on his abstentions and stubborn utterances of all the things other than yay or nea. He thinks this is a clever way to irritate other people. He is wrong. The reaction he mistakes for aggravation is that familiar astonishment that occurs when someone lives up to extraordinarily low expectations, “Can it really be that this guy is actually as batpoop nuts as we keep saying he is? YEP. Bat.Poop.Nuts. Unbelievable.”

And to prove it: nobody besides Billy, not even #kirbydelauter, wanted to get on board with allowing the historic designation that would enable the Scientologists to set up camp and maybe abuse drug addicts (as is *allegedly* their schtick, according to numerous news reports of Narconon facilities elsewhere) at Trout Run. Kirby produced the exact opposite of the “yup he’s nuts” reaction by citing the desires of his constituents. Billy could have tried something like that, but his apparent disorder compels him otherwise. (Also: Champagne toast!)

Moving forth on the agenda to the point that we were perfectly confident to diagnose the oppositional defiant disorder, there was a wacky discussion of the merits of the Clean Chesapeake Coalition, where the Democrats were concerned that it was wasteful spending, so Billy, ever the spendy liberal environmentalist (????no) hammered away at the numerous benefits of Frederick County’s membership in a fanatical fiscal responsibility twist. Like a ride on a Tilt-A-Whirl.

After some zzzzzzzzzz building code stuff…ugh. In all seriousness, laws that keep people physically safe and from the industries ripping them off by lobbying for expensive requirements are basically the best reason for not drowning the government in the bathtub, but still boring. Billy took a break from most of his favorite shenanigans for this conversation. Maybe it made him want a nap, too.

Then Billy was vehemently opposed–is there any other way for an ODD person to be?–to adding floating holidays and additional sick days for county employees, even though it was laboriously and pathetically trotted out as the most miserly way to hope to improve morale for county employees on the cheap. It passed, despite his “absolutely not.”

The end is mired in jockeying around procedure. Procedure is a really, very, extremely, consistently challenging problem for Mr. Shreve though, and this part is tough on everyone to the point that it sparkles and shines. Jerry Donald wants to suspend the rules in order to make a motion to send a letter to County Executive Jan Gardner requesting applications to the Frederick County Register of Historic Places be suspended until they can have clarification of the ordinance. Billy seizes the moment to insist they need to do the same thing with ethics. The high point is hit when he asks Michael Chomel what he would suggest and Chomel fires back in what we are so hoping was his most diplomatic way of saying, “Bugger off,” when he replies, “I don’t think it is a good idea to ask me such a broad question.” Whether that was his intent or not, we laughed our knickers off at the idea. After watching Chomel ever so patiently running remedial kinder council for him, it sure seems like the only way to hear that.