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Auburn cops moving to City Hall

How convenient. Now you can pick up your fishing license and confess to that triple homicide all in one stop.

Cop shop for rent

Is it me? Or would an abandoned police station be a great singles pad? You got your interrogation room, your holding cells, your firing range. Who needs a Foosball table when you can have the guys over for Taser Tag?

Construction workers save kittens

From catcalls to cat rescue. Because that’s what construction guys are known for, right? Tenderness?

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Shake Weight Shuffle

Ever since Sunday, when my expose on gym equipment ran in the B Section, people have been greeting me with peculiar hand gestures that emulate the models on the Shake Weight commercials. The first five or six times it happened, I completely misunderstood and ran for help. Now I get it. Please stop doing that. You’re giving me freaky dreams.

Fan mail

From a nice lady who, like many others, can only take my writing if she has ample access to food and medical help.

“I read you in doctor’s offices and sometimes at Hannaford’s.”

Ba dum DA!

From a reader: “I hear Bill Buckner will be the new manager of the Brockton Rox, an Independent League in Massachusetts. Good to see Billy Buck back in the game and in Massachusetts. When asked for his thoughts, Buckner was quoted as saying,’I can’t let this opportunity get by me.'”

The LePage inauguration

Word is, the Portland Press Herald sent a dozen reporters to the ceremony. Fortunately, there was no other news, of any kind, in or around Portland that day.

Frito Lay heist
Four people charged with breaking into a warehouse filled from floor to ceiling with snack food. Is it me? Or does this sound like something Cheech & Chong would do?

Ice, ice baby

Sure is a nice rink they have over there on Randall Road in Lewiston. Real nets, a heated locker room, even an electronic scoreboard hanging on a fence. Why, back in my day, we played behind the animal shelter in Waterville on a frozen pond that sometimes smelled of dead things. We used sneakers to mark the goals and pee slashes in the snow to keep score. Our pads were newspapers stuffed into the legs of our pants and if you lost the puck, there wasn’t a replacement. We had to flatten a tin can and use that for the rest of the afternoon. Some kids were so poor, they had left skates on both feet and sticks held together with duct tape. The ice was smooth and hard in some sections, thin and brittle in others. If one of us crashed through the ice and into the rancid pond, we didn’t retrieve him until the end of the period, if we remembered to pull him out at all. Those were good times. Pond hockey builds character and/or frostbite.

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