The paper chase

So, two men decided they would rob a newspaper carrier working downtown Lewiston. How much did they get? Jack, that’s how much. Because the newspaper man fended the attackers off with an umbrella (his nunchucks were in the shop that day) and sent them packing. I mean, seriously. Do you really want to pick on a guy who willingly gets up before dawn and then wanders downtown Lewiston – the badlands – while hauling hundred-pound sacks on his shoulders? Newspaper carriers are the Rambos of this business.

Reporters are the Martin Mulls.

It’s bigger than all of us

With President Barack Obama’s birth certificate now available for public viewing, conspiracy theorists will have to resign themselves to the next pressing concern: boxers or briefs?


Went to my first downtown brawl — described as gigantahuge — of the season Wednesday in downtown Lewiston. As is customary, it starts with a caller alerting police that a crowd of young people, their numbers estimated at just short of one Dirty Lewzillion, are fighting near Kennedy Park with knifes, chainsaws and at least one flame thrower. As is the norm, police and news people are there 30 seconds later to find only a few pairs of baggy jeans left standing untenanted when their occupants bolted. That’s how fast people disperse from a brawl in downtown Lewiston. You need advanced quantum mechanics to measure it.

Anyway, I don’t go to Lewiston brawls anymore. It’s much easier to watch them on Facebook.

It isn’t fare!

So, City Cab will deliver its last babbling drunk to his home and then call it quits. If you still dream of hooking up with Nardo, stud, now is the time to make your move.

LePage cabinet in turmoil

Why do bad things happen to good people?

April showers

If they bring May flowers, it’s going to be like a funeral for a florist out there starting today. I know the weather people have said we set no records for wet weather, but I tend to disagree. And my charting system is very scientific. I count rings of mold on the busted clown box I keep in my garage.

Royally duped

Are you like me? Did you get up before dawn on Friday, put on your best tweed and prepare yourself with a box of tissues? Disappointing, wasn’t it? When I heard the prince was getting married, I thought the “Little Red Corvette” guy was finally going to marry that nice Apollonia. Instead, I found the Duchess of Something marrying what appeared to be a movie usher.

P.S. If you remember Apollonia, this really is a sad day for both of us.

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