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Weisman's War

When I read Anthony Man's story about Palm Beach County Administrator Bob Weisman's war against flouride, I had to interview the man. I mean, I thought flouride was the only thing that kept us from having British-style teeth. This morning, Weisman finally gave me some time to discuss it.

The lights were out in his office and the blinds, which dominated one wall, were closed tight. It was strange, as if he were trying to hide from something or someone. The administrator had a lit cigar clenched in his teeth and, oddly, was dressed in military regalia, as if he were a colonel.

"Now why don't you just take it easy, Pulp boy, and please make me a drink of grain alcohol and rainwater, and help yourself to whatever you'd like," he told me as I walked in. "Pulp boy, do you realize that in addition to fluoridating water, why, there are studies underway to fluoridate salt, flour, fruit juices, soup, sugar, milk ... ice cream. Ice cream, Pulp boy, children's ice cream."

He sounded truly distraught about this. And as he spoke, he was messing with some heavy machinery. It was, God, it was a machine gun. What was the matter with this man.

"I can no longer sit back and allow Jihadist infiltration, Jihadist indoctrination, Jihadist subversion and the international Jihadist conspiracy to sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids."

"Lord, Mr. Weisman."

"It's incredibly obvious, isn't it?" he continued. "A foreign substance is introduced into our precious bodily fluids without the knowledge of the individual. Certainly without any choice. That's the way your hard-core Islamo-fascist works."

"Uh, Bob, listen, tell me, tell me, Bob, when did you first become ... well, develop this theory?" I asked him, as he pulled out more heavy artillery and aimed it at the window.

"Well, I ... I first became aware of it, Pulp boy, during the physical act of love."

"Hmm."

I was backing toward the door.

"Yes, a profound sense of fatigue ... a feeling of emptiness followed. Luckily I was able to interpret these feelings correctly. Loss of essence."

"Hmm."

"I can assure you it has not recurred, Pulp boy. Women ... women sense my power and they seek the life essence. I ... I do not avoid women, Pulp boy."

"No."

"But I ... I do deny them my essence."

I bolted. The man had clearly lost his mind. But before I got out of that county government building I managed to get this photo of Weisman.

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Journalist Bob Norman has been raking the muck of South Florida for the past 25 years. His work has led to criminal cases against corrupt politicians, the ouster of bad judges from the bench, and has garnered dozens of state, regional, and national awards.
Contact: Bob Norman

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