Talk of the town: It's a bird, it's a plane . . .

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Say cheeeeese

The father and son accused of an Auburn home robbery in October made for one heck of a story. It also made for one dubious mugshot. It’s hard to tell, frankly, if the younger accused bandit is snarling with defiance or if the camera caught him in mid-sneeze. Plus, it appears that his jail-issued shirt is on backward. Either that or his head spun 180 degrees on his neck, a la “The Exorcist,” in which case I’d suggest calling in a team of priests.

Space junk

So, several very skilled pilots managed to use the art of skywriting to draw a penis in the skies over Washington state, drawing titters from some, scoldings from others. Roughly two dozen people sent me the story about this high-flying graffiti artist along with an image of said sky art. I’m either flattered or shamed by the fact that so many people thought of me in relation to this story. After careful examination of the male reproductive organ in the sky, I’ve come to the same conclusion I always reach in these matters: All crudely drawn male genitals end up looking like either salad forks or short men in tall hats.

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My little hat

To accompany my column about “Deadwood” a week ago, some newsroom wit pasted a tiny cowboy hat upon my head in that wretched mugshot they insist on running with my columns. I appreciate the effort, but it’s plain to see that the hat is at least two sizes too small for my noggin. Ain’t that just a grand symbol of my life to date? I finally get a fancy cowboy hat, and even though the hat is entirely fictional, it doesn’t fit right. Maybe I can get a hotshot fly boy to draw me a bigger one.

Go west, or possibly south

And speaking of “Deadwood,” an official from the town of Deadwood happened upon my column about the show and invited me out. I’m a going, too, I reckon, as soon as I figure out where South Dakota is.

The war on winter

Well, I did it. I went out and got myself a union suit, complete with back flap. Tell me, exactly how jealous are you right now? It’s bright red, and now that I’ve crawled into it, I plan to keep it on until late May, at which point I’ll bring it down to the crick and warsh it. You know, if it needs warshing.

It’s bigger than all of us

It feels like we need a couple special sections in the newspaper these days: one for the latest accusations of sexual misbehavior and another for local store robberies. It doesn’t seem like there’s any connection there, but come to think of it, does anyone know where Matt Lauer was at 11 p.m. Wednesday when the Big Apple was robbed?

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