The buzz

Jason Moore, everybody. Police detective, techno geek and now . . . exterminator!

“It was a cool summer evening, the sun had just set and the ground still damp from a passing shower. The sniper laid motionless sighting in his prey. He waited patiently, looking for any motion. When the moment was right he fired his first shot, a misfire. Somehow he remained undetected. It had to be now. He fired again, hitting center mass and tearing the target apart. The sniper waited for the activity that was sure to follow. Seeing none, he again depressed the trigger on the nozzle, further saturating the obscured hornets nest with a high-powered stream of poison. If there were survivors they would be attacking soon, so I jumped up and ran away as fast I could!”

PS

Show of hands: How many of you were cheering for the hornets?

Big and round and white

Well, huh. I thought a “super moon” was the result of a larger woman . . . well, just never mind what I thought. As it turns out, it’s a cosmic thing involving the actual moon. Some will tell you it has a direct effect on human behavior, which is pure rubbish, of course. Only, I’m starting to believe. In the nights before the big moon floated across our skies, people were acting like idiots in downtown Lewiston. If you can imagine such a thing. And it wasn’t just the usual suspects. I’m talking friends turning on friends, sweet old ladies spouting off strings of profanity, gap-toothed children getting into dust-ups over games like Jacks and Pick-Up-Sticks. I’m pretty sure I saw two butterflies fighting in Kennedy Park, and two doves squared off in a church parking lot. It was ugly. We clearly need legislation to keep super moons out of Lewiston. Who’s with me?

Today’s history lesson

Comes to you in part by Vaseline. Relieves dry skin but may cause you to say really stupid things to your constituents. And now on to our regularly scheduled history lesson. Solstice: It came in the dark early Friday morning, like a skunk after your garbage cans. Now it’s summer. In fact, the word solstice comes from the Latin “sol,” meaning “sun,” and “stice,” which translates to “now summer has begun for real and you haven’t done anything meaningful with your family yet and your kids hate you and the next thing you know it will be July 4th and the season will be half over and, oh my god, have you even taken the camping gear out of the garage yet to air it out? That stuff stinks real bad after that rainy excursion to Hermit Island where Little Jimmy threw up in his sleeping bag and the dog peed on your pillow.” The Latins were a very stressed out people.

Sketchy character part II

Bill Eldridge is back for the second week in a row. This time, he unleashed a drawing of me at the piano. My head is flung back as I gaze skyward in musical ecstasy (or something). My hands float over the keyboard, waiting to strike like a python after prey. My eyes are closed, my shoes are pink, my belly is huge. On the piano is the message: “Think Harley, not Suzucki.” I won’t lie to you. That stings a little, but not as much as the Buddha belly. Seriously, does this piano make me look fat?

Open mouth, insert entire leg

Speaking of Gov. Paul LePage, he said something so nasty in a public forum, I’d get chucked to the curb if I tried to say it here in this column. Congratulations, governor. You’ve managed to be more offensive than Talk of the Town. And they said it couldn’t be done.

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