Talk of the town: Go big or go home

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‘Is color a sign of infection in nasal secretions?’

A headline that appeared early in the week, possibly as part of our “Connecting You With Your Nasal Secretions” series. I tell you, this kind of journalism is nothing to sneeze at.

Who did what to who, now?

So, if I have this straight, CNN threatened to dox a Reddit user who created a meme ā€“ a GIF that POTUS then tweeted with a hashtag, much to the delight of the followers of Kek. If you don’t recognize half the words in that sentence, consider yourself blessed. It means you live in the old reality, not this twisted new one.

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Yellow fever

Go ahead and tell me that area traffic lights operate according to schedules or sensors and that they have nothing against me personally, but I’m not buying it. Not after the string of days last week in which every single traffic light I encountered turned gleefully yellow before I could get in range to run it. It didn’t make any difference what hour of day or how sparse the traffic, either. I mean, this was a conspiracy of epic proportions, possibly involving a sinister group of madmen controlling the world’s traffic lights from a futuristic bunker in Antarctica. Call me paranoid if you will, but they’ll come for you some day, too, and we’ll see how glib you are when it takes you three hours just to cross from Lewiston into Auburn. The struggle is real, yo.

Nips

Are we STILL talking about possibly banning a perfectly legal substance for the sole reason that it comes in tiny bottles? It makes about as much sense as arbitrarily outlawing people, places or things merely because they are superficially associated with the undersized. Prepare for bans on Tiny Tim, Stuart Little, My Little Pony, Little House on the Prairie, Little Caesars, Little Women, Minnie Mouse, the Mini Cooper, Minnie Driver, Smalls Falls, small talk, the small-block Chevy, the itsy bitsy spider and the itsy bitsy, teenie weenie, yellow polka dot bikini.

‘So, you think you want a hedgehog’

Another headline. I’ll ask you one more time to stop reading my diary.

Popping off

The funnest thing about fireworks season is hearing the reactions of startled people in their hammocks, lawn chairs and kitchens immediately after some yahoo with a box of Blue Bangers lights up the night a block away. From where I sit, the explosions and the violent reactions to them all run together, like: KABOOM-son of a! Or KERBLAM-holy mother of! And in one memorable instance, KABANG-oh my ever-loving-KAPOW!

The Big Bang

Is it me? Or do some of these fireworks sound like possible medical afflictions? Dirty 30s, Toot-N-Twirl, Electric Jellyfish, Roman’s Crazy Ball Cannon, Jumbo Rocket Bag, Just Like Fire, Five Ball Thunder, Enormous Eruption, Gushing Orange or, my favorite, Super Jumbo Smoke Balls.

Are you Siri-ous?

On Wednesday, I was talking to reporter Chris Williams at his desk when his assistant, a nice young lass named Siri, scolded me from his phone. “Watch your language!” Siri snapped at me. It was the first time I’ve been yelled at by artificial intelligence. Something tells me it won’t be the last.

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