Hot spots indeed
At a community police meeting on Wednesday, at least a half-dozen people complained about being solicited by prostitutes in downtown Lewiston. It’s a real scourge, apparently. Yet, I’m a guy who spends all his time downtown and I’ve yet to get one offer from a single hooker. Not that I’m hurt by this fact. OK, I’m hurt. Deeply hurt. I’ve got to do something with my hair.
Buddha Bubba
William Eldridge and his family are at it again. The last time they sent me personalized artwork, it was a depiction of my latest novel. This time? A sketch of me in deep meditation. How to describe this one? I’m wearing an orange toga tied in such a way that if I was a woman, I’d be considered topless. It’s pretty hot. There is also a very tall seagull sitting on my right shoulder, staring into my ear. The seagull appears to be grinning. Around my serene form are symbols – many, many symbols. A dollar sign, Star of David, smiley face, Mickey Mouse, yin and yang, the ankh and a few others I haven’t been able to identify. Did I mention there’s a seagull on my shoulder?
Yoink
In Lewiston, a man walks into the police station to complain that he lost his wallet. A real bummer. Happens to all of us. What’s that you say? You were with a prostitute when the billfold went missing? Well, huh. That just might be a clue. You can check with your hooker friend, mister, but in my experience, those ladies don’t typically keep a lost and found box on hand.
Lemons don’t grow on trees, you know
There’s a lemonade stand on Warren Avenue that I believe is the best I’ve ever seen. The ice-cold beverages are being sold out of a booth adorned with tiny lemons and ornate lettering. The two girls manning (girling?) the booth are standing at roadside with bright smiles and friendly waves. I’d suggest you stop there as soon as you’re able and buy yourself a cup or two. With that kind of early business acumen, I predict the lasses will own half of Lewiston and all of Auburn in a few years and you might need a job.
These legs were made for walking
In Mechanic Falls, a woman called police to report that while driving on Route 121, she spotted a pair of legs sticking out of a ditch at the side of the road. Don’t you hate when that happens? She turned around and when she drove back by, the legs were attached to a man and they were walking up the street. Police are investigating . . . I don’t know. Something.
Swappers
In Farmington, a guy was busted for stealing a bunch of boats and trying to sell them on a radio swap meet. I found this story just confusing as hell. Isn’t a swap meet a party from which you leave with another guy’s wife? What does this have to do with boats? The world is a very complex place.
Seriously
Why don’t the hookers want me?
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