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The following is satirical commentary on public officials protected under Hustler Magazine v. Falwell, 485 U.S. 46 (1988). No statements herein assert actual facts about any individual's medical condition, anatomy, or marital relations. All "sources" are fictional. This is political humor based on Defendants' own federal court filing, Document 102-3, in which a smiley face emoji was submitted as evidence of "harassment."
Table of Contents
My Dear Litigation War Diary
Sunday, December 7, 2025
My dear litigation war diary,
The day is December 7th, Sunday. It's getting colder outside—but Mr. Creel keeps the undersigned heated with rage, and so the undersigned shall share some warmth with its dear readers.
Grab a stick. Add some marshmallows. Join the undersigned at the bonfire, because you're going to want to sit down for this one.
Today we will discuss a few topics.
First, this website is amassing a sizeable audience, and some interesting bits are emerging from our growing community of corruption-watchers.
The Whitehead article has achieved over 30,000 views. Thirty thousand. For context, Biloxi's population is about 46,000. That's incredible reach for a story about a defense counsel conducting surveillance. I guess people aren't fans of corrupt counsel stalking properties?
On Tuesday, December 3rd, at the City Council meeting, Peter Abide, the Mayor, Jerry Creel, and the Council members held an "executive" meeting—which means we don't get to know what they talked about.
Except we do. Because they mentioned a "secret" discussion about Petrini v. Biloxi.
We're famous! The City Council knows about us. The Mayor was there. What an honor.
Having them discuss their own crimes behind closed doors is something to write home about. So here we are, writing.
And speaking of documentation, on that same day—December 3rd—the undersigned connected the dots and made a fatal discovery about the position of Jerry Creel.
In fact, that's precisely the problem. His position.
The Accusation
BILOXI, MS — The undersigned has been accused of "harassment" by Currie Johnson—that is to say, the legal mouthpiece for the geriatric lawyers from the Napoleon of Biloxi's office.
That would be Peter C. Abide, pronounced "Ā-bide" (as per his official City page—we want to make sure we're talking about the correct little man).
They tried to gag this website. Except they cried to the federal judge under the wrong legal vehicle, framed our communications as "aggressive," and—in their Rebuttal—introduced new evidence as Exhibit C.
We'll get to Exhibit C. Oh, we'll get to Exhibit C.
But first: this motion was filed to stop the undersigned's public records request for invoices. You know—the billing records showing how much taxpayer money has been funneled to Currie Johnson, Page Mannino, and the rest of the legal cartel defending municipal corruption.
For the record: No one has gotten back to us on that request.
Stacy, can't you see? You're just not the girl for me. But I need those records.
Three law firms. Over $250,000 in taxpayer funds. A federal motion practice. Constitutional arguments. Supreme Court precedent.
Do you know, dear reader, that in order to deny a Certificate of Occupancy for a project that passed all inspections, Peter Abide has profited over $250,000?
That's the cost of saying "no" to a deck that was already approved.
And what evidence did they attach to support this grave accusation of harassment?
"Rise and shine! 😊"
That's it. A morning greeting. With a smiley face. Sent to Jerry Creel.
The dinosaurs are predictable. This was sent after they filed their motion. The undersigned did it on purpose.
To prove a point: no matter what is said, no matter the tone, even with a smiley face—it's "harassment." They "need" to silence the blog. They "need" to block our communications to City Council. They "need" to obstruct our public records requests.
Because Petrini is a badass kicking the museum pieces' asses, and they have no other defense.
So they filed a smiley face as evidence. In federal court. Before a United States Magistrate Judge.
You gave them the rope. They hanged themselves with an emoji.
"So they filed a smiley face as evidence. In federal court. Before a United States Magistrate Judge."
And they wrapped it like a winch—tighter and tighter with every filing.
These are the dinosaurs of Biloxi. Moved by traffic of influence. These high-level oldies, these secretary-class attorneys, can't litigate.
They can only evade.
Now, before some of you ask: What did they say about the actual allegations we raised in our Opposition? You know—the serious ones?
What about Michael Whitehead's illegal surveillance of the undersigned's property during a statutory enforcement stay, three hours before appearing as counsel at the undersigned's hearing?
What about Creel's November 3rd illegal entry into a federal ITAR-controlled facility at 929 Division Street, where he interrogated a woman alone until she suffered a documented panic attack?
What about the gag order they sought—and our rather comprehensive 27-page response citing Seattle Times, Nebraska Press, and Hustler Magazine?
They said nothing.
Absolute silence. Not a word. Complete crickets. A silence so absolute that NASA called and asked if they could test space tech that requires a void.
Instead, their Rebuttal complained that our response was "pre-planned." Too good. Too fast. Too constitutional. Un-Jurassic-Parky.
But there's a time to joke, and there's a time to be serious.
This is not that time, dear readers. Today, we joke.
Please, accompany the undersigned into a voyage of introspection and discovery.
Maybe it's not that we need a Certificate of Occupancy. Maybe, deep down, the CO is just an excuse. Maybe my real dream is to hold hands with Creel? Gaze into his eyes across Beach Boulevard? Whisper sweet code violations into his ear?
Well, if that's the case, my luck has run out.
Because the undersigned connected the dots and came to the following shocking conclusion:
The Revelation
The City of Biloxi has spent over $250,000 in taxpayer funds to confirm what Mrs. Creel has presumably known for years: Jerry cannot get it up anymore.
The undersigned has appointed himself unofficial spokesman for Mrs. Creel. She didn't ask. She didn't have to. Some things transcend consent—like thirty-four years of disappointment.
"Finally," she would say. "Someone said it."
"Do you know how long I've known? How many nights I've laid there, staring at the ceiling, wondering why my husband can only perform when there's a code violation involved?"
"He rises for other people's decks, but not for me."
"He rises for other people's decks, but not for me."
— Mrs. Creel (fictional)
She has receipts. Or rather, she has an absence of receipts.
The damning admission arrived December 3, 2025, when three law firms—billing collectively what most Biloxi families earn in half a decade—filed federal court Exhibit C as evidence of "harassment." The exhibit's contents?
"Rise and shine! 😊"
A smiley face. Filed in the United States District Court for the Southern District of Mississippi. As proof of stalking. Harassment. That the undersigned wants to kill Jerry Creel. Or whatever—it's hard to make sense of the geriatric boys.
The implications are medically significant: Jerry Creel can no longer rise. Jerry Creel can no longer shine. The Building Official's performance issues have reached such severity that a cheerful morning greeting now constitutes a threat requiring federal judicial intervention.
A Brief Psychological Analysis Satire — Fictional
Let us pause here, dear reader, for some amateur psychology.
"Rise and shine" is a phrase parents say to children. Teachers say it to students. It's on coffee mugs. It's in greeting cards. It is, by any objective measure, one of the most wholesome, positive, and universally benign phrases in the English language.
So why would a grown man—a Building Official with multiple titles, a wife, children, and thirty-four years of marriage—perceive this phrase as harassment?
The undersigned did some digging. Some psychology reading. And the answer became clear.
A positive stimulus can only be perceived as negative if it triggers awareness of a deficiency.
Consider: If someone says "nice car" to a person who loves their car, they smile. If someone says "nice car" to a person who secretly knows their car is falling apart, they feel attacked.
If someone says "great job" to a confident employee, they beam. If someone says "great job" to an employee who knows they've been failing, they hear sarcasm.
And if someone says "rise and shine" to a man who CAN rise and shine?
He says "good morning" back.
But if someone says "rise and shine" to a man who CANNOT rise and shine? A man who hasn't risen in years? A man whose shine has long since faded? A man whose wife lies awake at night wondering where it all went wrong?
That man hears a threat.
That man hears mockery.
That man calls three law firms and files a federal motion.
Jerry Creel's reaction to "rise and shine" tells us everything we need to know about Jerry Creel.
"A secure man laughs it off. An insecure man calls his attorneys. Jerry called his attorneys."
Breaking: Undersigned Reaches Out to Mrs. Creel Satire
Following the filing of Exhibit C, the undersigned has formally reached out to Mrs. Creel to inquire whether she wishes to join the growing coalition of plaintiffs affected by Jerry Creel's documented inability to perform.
The communication, sent via certified mail, reads in relevant part:
Dear Mrs. Creel:
I am writing to you regarding your husband's December 3, 2025 filing in Document 102-3, Exhibit C, which establishes his inability to "rise and shine" as a matter of federal public record.
As someone who has sought from Mr. Creel something he can no longer provide—specifically, a Certificate of Occupancy that requires him to rise from his desk and shine some light on my code-compliant deck project—I believe we may have common ground.
It is my understanding that you, too, may have requested services from Mr. Creel that he no longer appears capable of providing. If so, my condolences.
Your faithful servant,
the undersigned
P.S. — Do you know if Jerry has always had difficulty with "risings," or did this develop alongside his obsession with my property?
While Mrs. Creel has not yet formally responded, sources close to the Creel household report she was seen nodding slowly while reading the letter, pouring a large glass of wine, and muttering: "Finally. Someone said it."
A fictional spokesperson for Mrs. Creel provided the following statement:
"Mrs. Creel has long suspected what federal court records now confirm. When your husband has the energy to surveil another man's property for thirty minutes every Sunday but cannot manage five minutes at home, you begin to ask questions."
"She is reviewing Mr. Petrini's offer carefully. The prospect of joining a federal lawsuit against her own husband for 'inability to perform' presents certain logistical challenges, but also certain appeals."
"She has asked me to confirm that Jerry's Sunday surveillance sessions do, in fact, last longer than anything he has provided domestically in recent memory. She has receipts. Or rather, she has an absence of receipts."
Jerry's Hobby: Stop Work Order Template Design Satire — Fictional
Video: Stop Work Orders in Action
Mrs. Creel provided further insight into Jerry's domestic life.
Watch the enforcement tactics documented on camera. This is how taxpayer-funded harassment looks in practice—the obsession that defines Jerry Creel's existence.
The Mrs. Creel Files: A Collection of Domestic Incidents
The Hard Hat Roleplay
Bedroom"You know what Jerry does for 'fun'? Other men play golf. Watch football. Have hobbies. Jerry designs Stop Work Order templates."
"He'll sit at the kitchen table for HOURS, adjusting margins. Testing fonts. 'Is this crimson too aggressive, Debbie? Should I go with a more authoritative scarlet?'"
"He asked me once: 'Marta, can we roleplay? You be a homeowner with a deck. Please? This is for WORK.'"
"He asked me to put on a hard hat. A HARD HAT. In our bedroom. He said it was to help him 'get in character.'"
"'Put on this hard hat and pretend you just poured concrete without a permit.' That's what he said to me. To his wife. Of thirty-four years."
"I haven't worn lingerie in fifteen years, but my husband has asked me to wear a HARD HAT for his enforcement fantasies."
The SWO Folder
Obsession"He has a folder. A FOLDER. Labeled 'SWO CONCEPTS - DO NOT TOUCH.' There must be three hundred variations in there. Different fonts. Different layouts. Different levels of menace."
"They work like a fidget spinner for him. When Jerry wants to relax—when other men would pour a drink or watch the game—Jerry goes to the folder. He touches them. Feels their texture. Runs his fingers along the edges. Holds them up to the light to appreciate the weight of the cardstock."
"I bought him actual fidget spinners once. For Christmas. He looked at them like I'd handed him garbage. 'These don't have signatures, Debbie. These don't have case numbers. These don't STOP WORK.' Then he went back to his folder."
"That folder brings him more joy than I ever could."
The Stress Relief Walks
Neighborhood"Sometimes he comes home stressed. You know what other husbands do when they're stressed? They go for a run. They hit the gym. They have a beer with friends. You know what Jerry does?"
"'I need to blow off some steam, Marta. I'm going to go out and write some Stop Work Orders around the block.'"
"He just... walks the neighborhood. Looking for violations. Any violation. A fence that's an inch too tall. A shed that might not have a permit. A mailbox that looks suspicious. He comes back an hour later, calm as a Buddhist monk, with three fresh SWOs in his hand."
"'I feel better now,' he says. 'Mrs. Henderson on Maple Street has an unpermitted pergola. Justice will be served.'"
"Mrs. Henderson is eighty-six years old. Her husband built that pergola in 1987. But Jerry got his fix, so I guess that's what matters."
The 2 AM Breakthrough
Pioneer"Last month he woke me up at 2 AM. TWO IN THE MORNING. He was excited. Couldn't sleep. Had a 'breakthrough.'"
"'Marta, I want to be a pioneer in the stop work industry. I've been thinking—what if, instead of issuing one Stop Work Order, I issue TWO? It's called fallback. Lawyers use it all the time.'"
"I said, 'Jerry, it's 2 AM. What are you talking about?' He said, 'Alternative enforcement, Marta. If the first SWO doesn't stick, the second one catches them. It's GENIUS. Abide will love this.'"
"He spent the rest of the night drafting a memo to himself about 'redundant enforcement strategies.' I could hear him giggling from the bedroom. GIGGLING. Like a child on Christmas morning."
"That's my husband. A pioneer. In the stop work industry."
Stop Work Parenting
The Kids"And the kids? Oh, the KIDS."
"When the kids were young and they misbehaved, other fathers would threaten to ground them. Take away TV privileges. Normal punishments."
"Jerry would pull out a blank Stop Work Order template, fill in their names, and say: 'You want to keep acting up? I'll Stop Work Order your ass. No more playing. No more toys. ALL ACTIVITIES CEASED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.'"
"Our daughter cried for three hours once because Jerry issued her a Notice of Violation for leaving her bike in the driveway. She was SEVEN."
"Our son still flinches when he sees a red octagon. Any red octagon. Stop signs. Yield signs. He's thirty-two years old and he FLINCHES."
"That's the man I married. That's the man who needs federal protection from 'Rise and shine! 😊'"
Mrs. Creel Remembers the Glory Days Satire — Fictional
In an exclusive fictional interview, Mrs. Creel sat by the window of her Biloxi home, clutching a faded photograph from 1987, tears streaming down her face as she recalled a different time.
"There was a time," she whispered, voice trembling, "when 'rise and shine' actually worked."
"Sometimes twice before breakfast."
"Jerry used to leave notes in my lunchbox. With smiley faces. 😊 Just like that—a happy face, a little heart. 'Have a good day, Debbie. I rise and shine for you.'"
"Now he says Petrini's name in his sleep. He wakes up mumbling about constitutional violations. He issues Stop Work Orders on Petrini IN HIS SLEEP."
"I asked him once: 'Jerry, what are you dreaming about?' You know what he said?"
"'The deck, Debbie. The goddamn deck.'"
"I asked him to talk dirty once. You know what he said? 'Unpermitted construction.' Then he went soft anyway."
"He stubbed his toe on the doorframe once. You know what he yelled? 'THAT DAMN PETRINI AND THE DECK!' I said, 'Jerry, this has nothing to do with Petrini.' He looked at me like I'd betrayed everything he stands for."
"He blames Petrini for everything now. Milk goes sour? 'Probably because Petrini is doing unpermitted electrical work.' Power goes out? 'Petrini's deck is probably overloading the grid.' Rains on the weekend? 'Petrini's deck probably altered weather patterns.'"
"I want to go to Olive Garden, and Jerry won't take me anywhere these days. So I tell him: 'Jerry, I heard there's unpermitted work happening near Olive Garden.' Jerry is in the car in SECONDS. We got there in eight minutes. He circled the parking lot for an hour looking for violations while I ate breadsticks alone."
"That's date night now. That's romance. Me eating breadsticks. Jerry hunting for code violations that don't exist. Together, technically."
The "Talk Dirty" Incident Satire — Fictional
Mrs. Creel recounted the following disturbing exchange:
"I said to him: 'Jerry, talk dirty to me.'"
"He looked at me. Confused. Then he said: 'Why would you bring Abide into this?'"
"I said: 'What?' He said: 'You just said dirty. Why are we talking about Abide in the bedroom?'"
"ABIDE. I said 'dirty' and his mind went straight to Peter Abide."
"I said: 'Jerry, I didn't mention Abide. I said DIRTY.' He went all red. He said: 'Oh. Right. Sorry. It's just... he's been on my mind lately.'"
"That was three years ago. I haven't tried since."
"'I can't perform when you're making me think about RICO violations, Debbie.' That's what he said. RICO VIOLATIONS. In our bedroom."
The Only Thing Jerry Can Still Get Up For Satire — Fictional
Mrs. Creel revealed the cruel irony that defines her marriage:
"You want to know the worst part? He CAN still rise. Just not for me."
"Sunday morning. 6 AM. Jerry is lying there like a corpse. Lifeless. No movement. I could elbow him in the ribs and he wouldn't stir."
"But then his phone buzzes. A text. About PETRINI."
"'There's activity at Petrini's deck.'"
"SUDDENLY he's AWAKE. Jumping out of bed like a crackhead who spotted unattended copper. Grabbing his camera—well, barely. His hands are shaking. He can't even find the car keys. Knocking things over. Bumping into walls. You know how a golden retriever acts when you come home and it can't contain itself? Spinning in circles, tail going crazy, knocking over furniture? That's Jerry about to do Sunday surveillance. Except the tail wagging is... well, that's the only thing that still wags for Petrini."
"He can spend thirty minutes photographing Petrini's deck, and he does it with a stamina I haven't seen since the Clinton administration."
"I asked him once: 'What does Petrini's deck have that I don't?' You know what he said?"
"'Unpermitted modifications, Debbie. Petrini's deck has unpermitted modifications.'"
"That was the day I gave up."
The Laugh at 2:43 Satire — Fictional
The undersigned sent Jerry an AI-generated video. A satirical piece showing Jerry and Peter being... affectionate.
Jerry can't stop watching it.
Mrs. Creel described a particular moment:
"There's a moment at 2:43. After the AI kiss. Jerry and Peter just... laugh together."
"I watched my husband watch that video. When it hit 2:43, he laughed WITH it. This real, genuine, joyful sound. Synchronized perfectly with his AI self."
"I haven't heard Jerry laugh like that in twenty years."
"He fell asleep with the phone in his hand. Paused at 2:43. On the laugh."
Jerry's Daydream and the Solo Marco Polo Incident Satire — Fictional
Mrs. Creel—Debbie—reported the following incident:
"I came home early last Tuesday. Jerry was in the living room. Eyes closed. Smiling. SMILING. I hadn't seen him smile like that in years."
"I said, 'Jerry? What are you thinking about?'"
"He didn't open his eyes. He just... sighed. This long, peaceful sigh. And he said:"
"'The pool, Debbie. The pool on the deck. Can you imagine? Floating there. Weightless. The sun on your face. The sound of the waves below. No Stop Work Orders. No enforcement actions. No motions to file. Just... floating.'"
"I said, 'Jerry, we have a bathtub.'"
"He opened his eyes. The smile disappeared. He looked at me like I'd suggested he eat garbage."
"'A BATHTUB, Debbie? A BATHTUB? Petrini has a POOL. On a DECK. Twenty feet above the ground. Overlooking the BEACH. And you're offering me a BATHTUB?'"
"He went to the guest room. Locked the door. I heard water running. Then splashing. Then:"
"'Marco!'"
"He was playing Marco Polo. ALONE. In the GUEST BATHROOM. Pretending he was in Petrini's pool."
"I called Peter. I said, 'You need to stop that pool. Jerry is GONE. He's playing solo Marco Polo imagining himself at Petrini's property.'"
"Peter started crying. Actually crying. He said, 'I know. I heard him. He called last night. He said "Marco" and waited for me to say "Polo." I couldn't do it, Debbie. I couldn't participate in his fantasy about another man's pool.'"
"We cried together. The wife and the City Attorney. United in grief. Over a pool."
"Over a goddamn pool that isn't even finished yet."
Conclusion: The Permanent Federal Record Satire
The City of Biloxi has spent $250,000 to prevent Jerry Creel from receiving positive morning affirmations.
Three law firms have collaborated to suppress smiley face emojis.
A federal motion has been filed to prohibit the words "rise and shine."
And does Jerry know that his AI make-out session with the Napoleon of Biloxi is now a federal court exhibit? They added it themselves. The defendants. As evidence. Of harassment.
It just sucks that satirical content is protected under the First Amendment...
[The Napoleon of Biloxi's internal monologue]:
"DAMN CIVIL RIGHTS AND CONSTITUTIONAL LAW, ALWAYS GETTING IN THE WAY OF MY COOL STUFF!"
"I THOUGHT THIS CIVIL RIGHTS THING WAS JUST A LEGEND!"
As the undersigned wrote to Defendants: one day, we will all laugh about this.
But today is not that day for them. Today, dear reader, you and I will take our turn and go first.
Kudos to whatever intern wrote that filing. The undersigned bets they made the Magistrate Judge's clerks' day. Probably their whole week.
All because Jerry Creel heard a threat where none existed.
All because a secure man would have laughed it off.
All because Jerry called his attorneys instead.
Document Citation: Case 1:25-cv-00178-LG-RPM, Document 102-3, Filed 12/03/25
Official Response Invited
Mr. Creel is welcome to submit a signed rebuttal for publication with equal prominence. We will post it in full, unedited.
Mrs. Creel is especially welcome to respond. We understand if she has much to say.
Until then, the undersigned will continue serving as her unofficial spokesman. She didn't ask. She didn't have to.
We understand if Jerry has nothing left.
The odds of Defendants crying to the Court about this article are 100%, so the undersigned has made this section blink.
The undersigned spent 30 minutes on Google learning how to program this blinking warning. You're welcome, Jerry.
Additionally, to guarantee Jerry doesn't miss this disclaimer, the undersigned has included the following:
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
║ ║
║ 🚨 STOP WORK ORDER 🚨 ║
║ ║
║ JERRY LOOK HERE ──────────────────────────────► THIS IS ║
║ SATIRE ║
║ ║
║ Now that we have your attention: ║
║ ║
║ This article is PARODY protected under the First Amendment ║
║ as interpreted in Hustler Magazine v. Falwell (1988). ║
║ ║
║ You cannot sue for satire, Jerry. ║
║ And don't try to pull a sneaky gag order either. ║
║ ║
║ But you CAN issue my Certificate of Occupancy. ║
║ ║
║ Rise and shine. 😊 ║
║ (Well, at least the undersigned hopes you get to again ║
║ at some point in the future?) ║
║ ║
╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Legal Disclaimer
This article is PARODY and SATIRE protected under the First Amendment as interpreted in Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U.S. 46 (1988).
The Supreme Court held that public figures and officials cannot recover for intentional infliction of emotional distress based on satirical content, even when "outrageous" and "calculated to injure feelings." Political satire—including sexual satire directed at public officials—occupies "the highest rung of the hierarchy of First Amendment values." NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware Co., 458 U.S. 886, 913 (1982).
No statements herein constitute factual assertions regarding:
- Jerry Creel's anatomy, erectile function, or medical condition
- The state of the Creel marriage
- Mrs. Creel's satisfaction or dissatisfaction
- Any actual communication with Mrs. Creel
- Peter Abide's romantic feelings toward Jerry Creel
- The number of times anyone watched any video
- Any person named "Marta"
The only factual assertions are:
- Defendants filed Document 102-3 containing "Rise and shine! 😊" as Exhibit C
- Defendants characterized this as harassment
- Defendants have billed approximately $250,000 in legal fees
- Jerry Creel is a public official subject to political commentary
- Jerry Creel testified he was "directed by Abide" to issue a Stop Work Order
All "sources," "quotes," "statements," "interviews," and "experts" are entirely fictional satirical devices. The "letter to Mrs. Creel" is fictional. No such letter has been sent. "Mrs. Creel's" statements are invented. This is comedy.
Jerry Creel's actual erectile function is unknown to the author, irrelevant to the author, and frankly none of the author's business. This is political satire about a public official's professional collapse under federal scrutiny, expressed through extended metaphor.
If you read this article and believed any of it was literal, the undersigned respectfully suggests you consult a sense of humor.
(The undersigned would also suggest consulting an attorney, but Jerry would scream "harassment" and file another motion.)
Defendants asked for this. They filed an emoji as evidence of harassment. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Rise and shine, Jerry.
Whenever you can. 😊
© 2025 peoplevsbiloxi.com — Exposing Municipal Corruption Through Constitutionally Protected Satire
Documenting the Performance Issues of a Building Official Who Can No Longer Rise to the Occasion