Who says summer is boring in Baton Rouge? These are indeed exciting times for political aficionados like me.

Who would have thought that, within a matter of mere months, Governor Bobby Jindal, our off-white knight in shining armor who promised to bravely lead our fair state into the land of political accountability and usher in the golden age of ethics reform, would be the target of a recall petition resulting from his initial obstinate refusal to veto a mid-term legislative pay raise? I sure as hell wouldn’t have put money on it.

How pathetic is it that it took such a drive, a planned rally at the Capitol, and a veritable symphony of voter outrage for him to finally veto the stupid thing? Are we going to have to go through an exercise in apparent frustration every time the legislature tries to get away with a self-serving measure like this, or will Jindal veto such a measure on his own initiative simply because it’s the right thing to do?

As bad as the legislators look after trying to double their own pay while food and fuel prices are higher than giraffe genitalia, I can only expect them to shoulder so much of the blame. During the last regular session, Jindal seemed to be everywhere but Baton Rouge. He was virtually governing in absentia.

Just like a group of spoiled teenagers whose parents were out of town, one could reasonably expect the legislature to try to get away with something outrageously selfish. Sure enough, while Daddy Jindal was running around the country, pretending to not be interested in running for vice president, they threw a fantastically funkalicious House (and Senate) party.

Instead of spending so much time outside of Louisiana, telling national media outlets how much he wants to stay in Louisiana, perhaps Jindal should actually spend more time in the state he purports to love and lead, especially when the legislature is convened. After all, if this is really the job he wants, why isn’t he here doing it when it really counts?

Before I go any further, let me clear something up. Yes, I voted for Jindal … thrice (twice in 2003 and once in 2007). So there.

Now that the governor has finally discovered he has testicles, the recall petition is all but dead. I’ve got a better shot at winning a gold medal in Beijing than the petitioners have at recalling Jindal, yet I’m still tempted to sign it. I don’t want to recall him. I just want to illustrate to him how to sign one’s name.

Jindal has set a new standard for hands-off governors. Only six months into his first term, he’s already allowed over 100 bills to become law without his signature. That’s more than every governor in the last 20 years combined.

It’s almost like he’s still in campaign mode.  According to Jim Brandt, president of the Public Affairs Research Council, “Jindal's decision to keep his fingerprints off certain bills could be a sign that he wants his record clear of anything that could be used against him in any run for national office.”

Sorry, Bobby, but that’s part of the job. You are the check and balance built into our system of government. You are the last line of defense against bad legislation. Claiming you’re not responsible for an awful law after neither vetoing nor signing it is like a goalie passively allowing a shot to go into the net, then defending his inaction by insisting that he didn’t make the shot. It’s your own fault some folks are trying to bench you for your lackluster performance.

Then there’s the manner in which the governor and his administration have dealt with the press. Keep in mind, I don’t consider myself in that number. No one from Red Shtick attends press conferences, conducts gubernatorial interviews, or needs press releases from the fourth floor of the Capitol. I know a lot of people who do, though.

I never would have imagined that a Rhodes Scholar would treat veteran capital correspondents like a bunch of pre-K kids (“Every time you interrupt me, I’ll start over”) while treating the legislature like a group of sober, responsible adults. That is simultaneously the epitome of both hubris and naïveté.

It’s also quite ironic that a man who was practically a member of the WAFB news team in the days immediately following Hurricane Katrina would treat local media with such apparent disdain less than three years later.

Remember how Jindal was getting more face time than the Weather Channel’s Jim Cantore? They couldn’t keep him off the set with a restraining order. I think he even had his own parking spot at the station.

Only months after becoming governor, though, Jindal’s press secretary Melissa Sellers was seen slamming a door in a Channel 9 cameraman’s face. I could understand treating the folks from WVLA like that, but this is Louisiana’s News Channel, for Pete’s sake!

While local media outlets of all sorts (TV, radio, print, web) are repeatedly dissed by the administration like the surviving member of Milli Vanilli at the 2008 BET Awards, it’s an entirely different matter for the national press, especially those of the TV ilk. Seriously, at this point, I think Sellers would voluntarily lead a séance just so her boss could be interviewed by Tim Russert.

Unfortunately for thousands of Channel 2 viewers and at least one local canine, Jindal and the legislature weren’t the only ones making the news for screwing the pooch. A Baton Rouge man was arrested for allegedly having sex with his dog, and WBRZ was there to cover it in all its glory. In case you didn’t see or read about the story in The Advocate, it’s enough to make even a frequently pessimistic cynic like me proud to call Red Stick home.

Recently, U.S. Marshals arrived at the home of Alex Chaney, a convicted sex offender, because they thought he wasn’t registered as required by law. Turns out he was registered and had the papers to prove it. The only problem was that, while surrounding his home to ensure that he couldn’t escape, they reportedly observed him attempting several different methods to penetrate one of his four dogs. It was a female dog, so at least it was heterosexual bestiality.

While The Advocate’s version of the story knocked the morning crust off my eyes, it was nothing compared to the video report I saw later that day while surfing the net on my laptop at a coffee shop. So astounding was the account that I found myself telling complete strangers about it. At least I won’t have a problem getting plenty of elbow room there from now on.

It’s already been viewed on YouTube over 2,000 times. While it’s not quite an “Alabama Leprechaun” or a “Bubb Rubb and Lil Sis,” it certainly has the potential to become another news story-turned-web classic.

First of all, the suspect’s voice is both effeminate and indecipherable. Any time a person born in the U.S. requires subtitles, it’s comedy gold. Unless there’s a problem with the audio or the person has a pathological speech or hearing impediment, I don’t care if they’re from the hood or Appalachia, I usually laugh my ass off.

Secondly, it shows Chaney’s wife injecting him with insulin for his diabetes while his hands are cuffed behind his back. Did I mention that Chaney is overweight, too?

Finally, the coup de grâce is the niece vehemently defending her uncle against the charges, despite the fact that The Advocate reported he essentially admitted doing the deed. While firmly grasping Chris Nakamoto’s microphone, she offers the query, “Why would he have to have sex wit a dog when he got a whole woman dat lives wit him?” before demanding to see pictures of the act in order to believe the accusations.

Thanks to the wonder that is the internet, thousands of people with no previous exposure to our fair city have seen Nakamoto’s report about the unintelligible, obese, insulin-dependent, convicted sex offender from Baton Rouge who allegedly had sex with his dog. Even better, they know about his militant niece, too.