How DARE you!
So “merger” has become the local buzzword that is so emotionally charged it’s guaranteed to rile people no matter what the context or location. See a happy family enjoying a picnic in the city park? Just mutter “merger” and watch the fireworks. Ol’ dad, bouncing a kid on his knee just moments earlier, will jump to his feet, red-faced and fuming, and spout his opinion with such rage and vehemence it will curdle the mustard in his egg salad sandwich. The missus will screech her displeasure as well, and if the kid is of at least toddling age, he’ll storm over and kick you in the shin. It’s great fun. Also works at church, yoga class and those parties where they sell essential oils for calming and healing.
See? Your blood pressure just went up 25 points.
‘I need weed’
Saw a panhandler on Park Street in Lewiston Tuesday with this message scrawled on his sign. You know, that “truth in advertising” style was refreshing when it first started to appear, but at some point, you’re just being lazy. What kind of weed do you need? What are you going to do once you have said weed? Come on, bruh. Tell us a little about yourself.
‘I need vape juice’
Is what it will say on my inevitable panhandler sign. Specifically, I need “Smurf Cake,” a delightful blend of cheesecake, wild blueberries and crust that will have you blowing blue clouds in a whimsical fantasy land. It’s a vape thing. You wouldn’t understand. Just give me money.
I also witnessed a skinny guy and a screeching young woman arguing viciously on the corner of Bartlett and Walnut streets. Both combatants (that’s cop talk right there) repeatedly pointed to something between them on the street as they continued to yell at each other at full volume. Once the dustup was over, I went to that spot and looked in the street. There was nothing, not so much as a candy wrapper, to be seen. I can only conclude that both parties were hallucinating. I am therefore closing this investigation.
Every year when the balloon festival comes along, I completely forget that it’s happening and become completely unnerved by the strange shapes floating in the sky above me. That one year they had the huge bat balloon floating around out there, I quit drinking for three days before I figured it out.
I’ll likely have a similar reaction when the moon blots out the sun on Monday. Although in this case, when darkness comes in the middle of the day, I’ll probably just go bed. Please don’t call.
Drunky McDrunk Face
The funniest thing I read in a court affidavit this week was a police officer describing the olfactory condition of a criminal suspect, writing, “I detected a strong odor of an intoxicating beverage coming from his facial area.” That’s cop speak for ya. Most of us would have just said, “The dude stank of booze!”
Put ’em up
The same criminal suspect also reportedly offered to fight the cop while wearing handcuffs. It’s a neat trick, all right, but isn’t that how Houdini died?