Hot in the city

You know it’s September when you step outside in your fluffy slippers, thermal pantaloons, river driver and earmuffs to find that it’s 90 degrees out there and humid. Something about rats procreating in a wool sock. You’ll go outside tomorrow wearing nothing but a codpiece only to discover that it has dropped below freezing. Your best bet to contend with the unpredictable nature of late summer is to put on a onesie and call it good. Send photos.

Potty mouths

On Wednesday, we all got the pleasure of listening to some city workers talk back and forth on their radios. For whatever reason, it came over the police scanner and it was pure comedy gold. R-rated gold, that is. “Don’t be rolling up that *&#@!@# window, dude” went the start of one exchange. “Don’t you ever !#@#@!& work, or what?” went another. A good time was had by all. We’re not sure which city it was, but apparently Samuel L. Jackson, Denis Leary and Andrew Dice Clay are working there.

Big Jim Reny must die

Ahh! The Dome has been saved! Hallelujah! With one scene, two bullets and a whole lot of stupid townspeople, we’re right back in line with the book. Reny is an infuriating bastard, Barbie is wrongly accused and it comes down to a bunch of kids to save the day. Maybe. I have no faith in the writers of this show. Next week, Reny may save a hundred puppies from a burning orphanage while Barbie tortures some old lady’s cat. It’s been a wild ride. A wild, stupid ride.

To hair is human

So, a barber shop in Greene passed along that they would like to give me a haircut. Flattering? Not so fast, Scissorhands. When someone invites me to take a seat in a chair so they can approach my head with a razor, I’ve got to wonder about their level of interest. I’ve been burned before, you know. I mean literally burned. Hot towel to the face.

Fighting over the last Werther’s Original

So, Stallone and Robert De Niro, who portrayed two of the most legendary pugilists of all time, will square off in the ring for a new movie. I don’t like it. I love both these guys and have no interest in seeing them throw hands. This will be like watching your beloved grampa square off with the kindly old man you read to each week at the home. Plus they’re at the age where there’s a strong chance of squirting more than blood and spit.