WHITE WASH IN ADAMS … HOW DOES IT TIE IN WITH SCHOOL DEPARTMENT CHAOS?
BY DAN VALENTI
PLANET VALENTI NEWS AND COMMENTARY
(FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE WEDNESDAY OCT. 29, 2025) — How hard up is the town of Adams? This hard: They will soon be announcing Peter White — aka Bitchfield city council president, aka Voltron the Porkchop –their town administrator.
That probably explains why THE PLANET observed town maintenance there putting mud flaps on the statue of William McKinley.
Ah, Bartleby. Ah, humanity.
Now don’t tell anyone that Voltron has won the job over the other two finalists, Nick Caccamo and a dude from Amherst, Dillon Maxfield. It’s supposed to be a secret and look legit, you know, like the fix is NOT in. But we’ve got it from an Adams official source, one VCTTS (Veddy Close To The Situation), who said it’s a “done deal.”
THE PLANET isn’t sure, but there’s talk in Adams about it having something to do with White’s new “girlfriend.”
Our source adds one tiny, teeny asterisk of a footnote of the fine print, cautioning that there’s one matter that might “derail” Voltron’s ascendancy. Source wouldn’t say what except that “it’s a legal matter.”
Hmmm. What to make of all this?
Let’s see here … Two-Pete Government about to become One-Pete and then maybe No Pete? Rumors are flying in the town and city.
———- ooo ———-
THE PLANET also observes the utter chaos now plaguing the Bitchfield School Department, something Mayor Lumpy has been running away from since he became mayor. Now it seems the current (not for long) sochol committee has joined the stampede. All of this comes with the revelation of the latest in “The Continuing Saga of Shepard’s Pie,” an X-rated soap opera that couldn’t get any stranger or any more corrupt.
We switch now to our two correspondents in the field, Markus Aurelius and Vendetta Vale. Come in, Mark:
In addition to the $155,000 Bitchfield taxpayers shelled out to never see the Bitchfield Pubic Scohol report completed by the DEI law firm, were also on the hook for another $100k, for Allison “Shepard’s Pie” Shepard, to sit home on paid leave.
Only in Bitchfield can an adult female school administrator send out a pu$$y pic and not go to jail but collect $100,000 in the process.
Imagine if a male principal sent a d!ck pic to a female student. Would he also receive a $100,000 payout?
Thanks for that report. VV, come in, please:
Pittsfield Sentinel | Months on paid administrative leave, $102,986 pay out, and an NDA. | Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/19hcGCYh9e/
Alison Shephard walks away with a settlement and guess who’s footing the bill? Us.
Seven months of paid leave with full benefits, a $102,000 payout, plus another $155,000 blown on a so-called “investigation” with a top-secret report no one gets to see. She also gets an NDA and can seek unemployment.
The lawsuits are about to start piling up—mark my words. The corruption in this city seeps through every crack in City Hall and slithers down North Street like the pink slime from Ghostbusters. Innocent people, families, kids, seniors and small businesses get crushed while they protect their own and cling to power. Pittsfield’s not haunted—it’s infected.
CIARA BATORY, School Committee candidate
The other thing to notice is the current rush by school department employees to get out of town, fast, all of which brings to mind the upcoming election.
Finally, the recent tragic note on a story first reported by THE PLANET, namely, the gunshot death of a 17-year-old Taconic High School student. We don’t know how it ties into anything mentioned here, and likely it doesn’t, except to say that these things don’t happen in a safe city. And that ALL on the mayor, the council, and the school committee. Give an assist to the new school superintendent as well.
———- ooo ———-
There’s been one and only one consistent voice who has spoken out fearlessly about the school scandals: Ciara Batory. If she’s elected, voters can rest assured that she will do everything she can to (a) get the full $155K report released and (b) reveal all she finds out about the creepy crawlies going on in that department and in the city.
VOTERS FIRST PRIORITY: VOTE CELIA BATORY TO THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE
VOTERS SECOND PRIORITY: VOTE FOR ANYONE IN ANY RACE WHO IS NOT AN INCUMBENT.
———————————————————————-
“Whad’ya got?” — Marlon Brando in The Wild Ones, when asked what he’s rebelling against.
“OPEN THE WINDOW, AUNT MILLIE.”
LOVE TO ALL.
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Dan. Unfortunately none of the voting makes any difference. That was you4 first advice.
So big Heko me Rhondo says she’ll be brief In her resign speech and talks for minutes. What is this job in progress she’s been waiting on? That she obtained. Is she even qualified?
Will Pittsfield have a special election? Or will the mayor just appoint his next best sycophant friend? One that can and will follow the rules.
Rule number one. Do NOT question the mayor.
Rule number two. Do NOT question the budget.
Rule number three. NEVER allow the words FORENSIC AUDIT to exit your mouth.
Beautifully said.
What about last year’s pot permits settlements, including a certain millionaire who received a city check in the amount of $341,000?
Adams is going to pick one of the 3….stooges – 2 from Pittsfield & 1 from Amherst (Mass.). But, at least Donald Trump likes William McKinley and tariffs.
I liked 2-Pete’s to 1-Pete to no-Pete’s….Pittsfield politics.
If Voltron does land the TA job in Adams, it will be in part to Butler who is 1 Berkshire CEO in Bitchfield and former TA there in my opinion. He is on the search committee for the Adams TA opening.
Trump is a real asshole cutting snap.
You are mistaken, it is the Democrat’s America LAST platform, which places the welfare (pun intended) of CRIMINAL ALIENS above. Citizens/Americans.
Aaiding and abetting CRIMINAL ALIENS, is still a FEDERAL FELONY.
How many Felons reside in US Congress?
The social safety net turned into a permanent hammock for all the grifters out there.
Too many people have had their life’s optimism reduced to “when their “benefits” are going to land in their acct.”
KJ
No, I voted for this. It’s time to end the fraud, waste, and abuse. Generational welfare for able bodied people is hor$eshit and needs to end. Get out and get a job.
These people were brought in by Bathhouse Barry and the Autopen Administrations.
I’ll repost a link I posted a few posts ago.
Without your usual TDS and from the facts I provided to you, can you rationalize this? You democRATS created this mess, not Trump.
“There are 42 million people in this country that need food stamps on a weekly basis.”
“And we’re saying ‘people’ deliberately instead of Americans because most of the people that are on food stamps aren’t even from this country.”
“45% of Afghanistan immigrants are on food stamps,
42% of Somali immigrants,
34% of every immigrant from Iraq,
and 23% of Haitians.”
“59% of ALL illegal aliens are collecting food stamps, meaning that most of the people getting food stamps from the U.S. Government and the U.S. Taxpayer are not even Americans.”
Overton on X: “Newsmax host @RobFinnertyUSA just said what no one in mainstream media will admit about SNAP. He tore the mask off the entire food stamps program…and what he revealed will infuriate taxpayers. It’s far worse than anyone realized. “There are 42 million people in this country https://t.co/TlgBzzwZDx” / X
Correct Marcus. The number doubled after Obama and ilk eliminated the work requirement. Now some layabouts are using the cuts to justify stealing.
He did not but why should us taxpayers pay for 1 in 8 Americans groceries ?
Give that raunchy pct buffoon benefits and can’t feed hungry families. Neal you suck.
The” socialist wagon” is beyond load capacity .
How many fk in times does police have to go to Allen gate and Brigtun aves?
Pretty sure they just announced Caccamo will be moving out of his family basement and heading up north.
Speaking of hiring drug dealers, 17 pounds of coke delivered to Healy’s Western Mass point man in a state office building. How do you spell D E I?
https://www.foxnews.com/us/aide-mass-gov-healey-charged-cocaine-trafficking-scheme-allegedly-linked-state-office-building
These DEI hires seem to be attracted to crime, like moths to a flame.
Maybe LaMar “the crack cocaine” Cook and Lavonte “Da Dancin Dean” Wiggins can become cellmates in federal lockup.
They can laugh and joke about how they suckered older, white, liberals, into giving them great paying, administrative jobs, under the guise of “social justice.”
Luckily for us, President Trump is putting an end to “social justice,” DEI and its racist policies against hiring better qualified people, and the “climate change” scam.
Besides Cook and Lavonte, add Letitia, Rachel Rollins, our esteemed AG Andrea Campbell, our own Shirley Edgey, School super Latipha Phillips … ad infinitum ad museum.
In the sleepy village of Flushington, nestled between rolling hills of emerald grass and a babbling brook that smelled suspiciously of lavender, lived a young plumber named Percy Pooperton. Percy wasn’t your ordinary plumber—he was the village’s official Poop Whisperer, a title passed down through generations of his family. His job? To commune with the spirits of the sewers and ensure that every flush was a symphony of efficiency.
One fateful morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon like a shy toddler hiding behind curtains, Percy received an urgent knock at his door. It was Mayor Muckrake, a portly man with a mustache that curled like overcooked spaghetti.
“Percy!” the mayor bellowed, his face redder than a beet in a sauna. “We’ve got a crisis! The Great Poop of Doom has returned!”
Percy sighed, adjusting his plunger-shaped hat. The Great Poop of Doom was no myth. Every decade or so, a colossal turd—born from the collective indigestion of the village’s annual Bean Feast—would clog the main sewer line, threatening to flood Flushington with a tidal wave of… well, you know.
Grabbing his toolkit (which included a enchanted laxative wand and a pair of nose plugs forged from dragon scales), Percy marched to the town square. There, beneath the manhole cover engraved with “Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here (But Bring Gloves),” lay the beast.
He lifted the lid, and a guttural groan echoed from the depths. The poop was enormous—a swirling vortex of brown, defying gravity and common sense. It pulsed like a living thing, whispering taunts in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Percy’s ex-girlfriend.
“You can’t flush me, Percy,” it gurgled. “I’m backed up with the dreams of a thousand constipated souls!”
Undeterred, Percy descended into the pipe, his boots squelching against the slimy walls. He chanted the ancient incantation: “Plunge and purge, swirl and scourge!” With a mighty thrust of his plunger, he battled the beast. Chunks flew like confetti at a particularly messy party. The poop fought back, summoning mini-turd minions that nipped at his heels.
But Percy was clever. He unleashed his secret weapon: a bottle of Fizzy Flush Elixir, brewed from carbonated prunes and unicorn tears. Pouring it down, the mixture fizzed and foamed, turning the Great Poop into a bubbly jacuzzi of dissolution.
With a final, thunderous whoosh, the monster surrendered, spiraling down the drain in a vortex of victory. Percy emerged triumphant, covered in glory (and other things), as the village cheered.
From that day on, the Bean Feast was renamed the “Moderation Munch,” and Percy was hailed as the hero who saved Flushington from a fate worse than bad plumbing. And they all lived happily ever after—until the next clog, of course.
The end. (Or is it?)
Thanks for ruining my lunch
Mark Twain could not have said it better. Looking forward to the movie.
Chapter 2: The Whisper in the Pipes
Ten years passed like a slow drip from a leaky faucet. Flushington had grown smug in its victory. The Moderation Munch was now a polite affair (three beans per plate, no exceptions), and the sewers hummed with the quiet contentment of a well-maintained digestive tract. Percy Pooperton, now sporting a silver streak in his beard and a back that clicked like a rusty gate, had retired his plunger to a velvet-lined shelf above the fireplace. He spent his days teaching apprentices the sacred art of courteous flushing and the difference between a courtesy flush and a panic flush.
But the pipes never forget.
It began with a sound. A low, wet murmur that slithered through the copper veins beneath the village at night. Old Mrs. Girdle swore her toilet sang lullabies in a minor key. The baker’s apprentice claimed his dough rose too fast, as if something below was pushing. And little Timmy Tinkle, the village’s most prolific pee-er, refused to use the outhouse after dark, insisting the bowl stared back with a single, unblinking eye.
Percy dismissed it as nostalgia. “Pipes creak,” he told the mayor over tea and fiber-rich biscuits. “Old houses gossip. Nothing more.”
Then the smell arrived.
It wasn’t the usual honest stink of a village that loved its lentils. This was wrong. A cloying, metallic sweetness, like burnt sugar mixed with despair. It oozed from drains and curled under doorways. Dogs rolled in it. Cats fled. The village florist reported her roses blooming brown.
Percy was summoned to the town hall, now redecorated with motivational posters: “Flush with Pride!” and “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work (and the Poop Flow).” Mayor Muckrake, grayer and rounder, wrung his hands.
“It’s back,” he whispered. “But… different. The Great Poop of Doom was proud. This one’s sneaky.”
Percy descended alone. The manhole cover had rusted shut; he had to pry it with the ceremonial crowbar. The ladder groaned. The air below was warm, humid, alive. His flashlight beam caught something impossible: the sewer walls were veined. Pulsing. Like the inside of a throat.
And then he heard it. Not a gurgle. A voice.
“Percy…” it sighed, intimate as a lover’s breath. “You left me unfinished.”
He knew that voice. Ten years ago, he’d flushed the Great Poop into oblivion—or so he thought. But poop, like grudges, has a way of reconstituting. This wasn’t a clog. This was a sequel. A smarter, meaner, fermented version. The dregs of the original beast had marinated in the village’s collective shame—every secret dump, every midnight snack, every “I’ll flush tomorrow.”
It had evolved.
Percy’s plunger felt laughably small. The veins on the walls thickened, dripping a viscous, iridescent sludge that spelled words as it pooled: YOU CAN’T FLUSH FATE.
He ran.
Bursting into the square, he shouted for the apprentices. They came with nets, enzymes, and the village’s last bottle of Fizzy Flush Elixir (now vintage, and slightly sentient). But the poop was ready. It erupted from every drain in a synchronized geyser of nightmare fudge, forming a towering, quivering colossus with the mayor’s face (mustache and all) molded from corn kernels.
“BEHOLD!” it boomed, voice bubbling like a cauldron. “I am the Regurgitated Reckoning! I am what you deny! I am—”
Percy cut it off with a blast from a modified leaf blower loaded with industrial-strength air freshener. The colossus recoiled, its corn-mustache wilting.
“Listen,” Percy panted, stepping forward. “I get it. We over-flushed. We pretended you didn’t exist. But you’re not just waste. You’re memory. And memory deserves respect.”
The poop paused, quivering. A single tear (of what, exactly, no one asked) rolled down its mayor-cheek.
Percy opened the ancient Pooperton Grimoire to a page he’d never dared read: The Rite of Reconciliation. It required something radical. Not destruction. Integration.
With the village holding hands in a circle (a sight so wholesome it hurt), Percy led them in the chant:
“From bowl to soil, from shame to toil,
We own our load, we break the code.
What we deny, returns to cry—
But what we compost, becomes the most.”
The colossus shuddered. Its form softened, collapsing into a rich, loamy mound that smelled faintly of petrichor and possibility. The veins in the walls retracted. The singing toilet fell silent.
By dawn, Flushington had a new landmark: the Great Compost Cathedral, a steaming hill of fertile earth where roses now bloomed rainbow. The village instituted Poop Pride Day, where citizens brought their most expressive offerings to be ceremonially mulched. Percy, promoted to Chief Composter, hung his plunger next to a new sign:
“Here lies the poop that taught us to grow.”
But in the deepest pipe, something still whispered. Not angry. Not vengeful. Curious.
And Percy, wiping soil from his hands, smiled. Some stories don’t end. They just… cycle.
To be continued? (Only if you dare flush again.)
Close one Salty!
Surprise…
https://www.iberkshires.com/story/80709/Adams-Board-Offers-Town-Administrator-Post-to-Caccamo.html
Bad intel, Dan.
Your source shit the bed Dan
Adams Board Offers Town Administrator Post to Caccamo / iBerkshires.com – The Berkshires online guide to events, news and Berkshire County community information.
It happens sometimes. The board musta activated the asterisk to which the we referred in our column. Prolly last-minute panic re: Voltron over … over what, exactly? Somebody got their hair mussed. The board putting on a brave face on the fist fights and strangulations that took place when shove came to push.
So can Voltron sit both on the Pittsfield CC AND be Adams Town Administrator? Sounds like a conflict of interest.
My advice – don’t vote for Voltron to serve on the Pittsfield CC! If Dan is correct about him having already been anointed in Adams, I say GOOD RIDDANCE!
“My advice – don’t vote for Voltron to serve on the Pittsfield CC!”
Self-serve, double portions.
Remember, this guy sees Pittsfield from the inside out and is heading for the first door that opened for him. Seems to want Pittsfield in his rear view mirror. Just like about seven thousand other residents in the last three years.
Read the canary in the coal mine people. His move is a red flag.
There are ominous rumblings in this regard.
Does anyone really give a fuck?
He did not but – why should taxpayers buy groceries for 1 in 8 Americans?
A lot of those folks sucking off the teat of the Government are not Americans. Time for DOGE to do a Audit.
Voltron Pete didn’t get the Adams job. Smart folks in Adams, they evidently saw through his bullshit interview. In reading the IBerkshires article on the interviews I couldn’t help but laugh at the answers coming out of Volron’s mouth. According to his answers he would have put his heart and soul into Adams. All he has done for Pittsfield is kiss Lumpy’s butt and slam his gavel at City Council meetings to “shut up” taxpayers. Very strange that he was willing to walk away from Pittsfield City Council, makes you wonder what is up behind the scenes!
Why should we vote for ANY of the incumbents, they have done absolutely nothing for the taxpayers for years. Also, why were no questions about the City put on the ballot? Pan handling, Wahconah Park renovation, cancelling the Charter and most of all voting in a City Manager and getting rid of the Mayor and City Council should have been placed on the ballot for a citizen vote. Pittsfield is a totally embarrassing mess under the current cronies.
Questions on the city ballot? IN Pittsfield? Are you nuts? Charter does not allow it unless put forward by a special interest venue. In the first paragraph of the latest revision.
So I hear.
Yeah. And unfortunately nothing will change. They have the votes.
Dan has given up with his no confidence vote of don’t vote.But he wants you to vote for Batory?
BALT
You have to use common sense, kid. People ARE going to vote, even in light of THE PLANET’s vast, powerful influence that defies logic. So those that DO vote should vote the way we recommend. Ya follow?
The Homelessness Industrial Complex……
https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2025/10/study-reveals-taxpayer-funds-meant-end-homelessness-are/
Kick the illegals off the system…..
https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2025/10/benefits-shutdown-good-time-reassess-54-federal-benefit/
Why were the ghosts so popular at the Halloween party?
Answer: Because they bought the boo’s.