Wet suit wiggle

This is a real thing. Wet suit wiggle, that is. I thought it was an exotic new dance sweeping the nation, or some sort of football play, but no. Wet suit wiggle is the act of surfers wiggling into their wet suits whilst out among the public, primarily at Higgins Beach in Scarborough. Apparently wet suit wiggle is offensive to some, particularly those delicate souls who suffer from wiggle-envy. It’s all very sordid and hilarious. I guarantee those gasping, eye-covering souls would not like what happens to my bathing suit when I time a wave just right while body surfing. I end up wearing my bathing suit as a hat while its key components remain affixed to my lower portion. On a good day at the beach, it’ll happen five or six times before severe bruising makes me quit.

Jepson Brook

For most of the week, I’ve been trying to prowl the length of this mysterious and elusive stream, which runs (allegedly) from Garcelon Bog to the Androscoggin River near Riverside Cemetery in Lewiston. Sneaky little bugger, Jepson Brook. Just when you think you have it in your grasp, it slips below ground and goes silent, only to reappear in another neighborhood a half-mile away. I’m pretty sure the underground parts are housing sea monsters or possibly a robot army. I need your help on this. Do you live on, near or in Jepson Brook? Do you know anything about its meandering and secretive course? Write me at mlaflamme@sunjournal.com with the lurid details. If this goes well, we can get matching Indiana Jones hats and go adventuring.

Lewiston parents can track school buses with GPS

Oh, that will be enthralling to view, particularly at the end of the school day. Bus takes off, bus stops 12 feet later to drop off kid. Bus takes off, bus stops 12 feet later to drop off kid. Bus takes off . . . And so on and so forth for the remainder of every street in the city. Make a drinking game out of it and you’ll be hammered by the time the bus reaches Shawmut and Pine.

PSI

Celebrations continue across the land over the Tom Brady ruling. And with that, we’ve been talking about some guy’s underinflated ball for most of a year now. That ball better grow up to fly to Mars, solve the riddles of the universe, cure cancer or something. Otherwise, we look like a bunch of weenies who would spend nine months talking about a ball.

Study finds 3 trillion trees on earth

That’s funny, I counted three trillion and eight. At any rate, I’d say there are significantly fewer now that the CMP buzz saws are making way for new power lines across Lewiston. I demand a recount.

Suck it

I actually had somebody ask me earlier in the week if my vape was a smartphone. I told him yes so he could spend the rest of the day wondering why I was sucking on my Samsung.

Picture this

A nice lady called to tell me that I HAVE to mention Russ Dillingham’s back-to-school photo in my Sunday column. The photo features a man kissing the head of his crying son and, according to the caller, “this picture HAS to win an award.” She sounds like she means business, too, so if you happen to be on the award committee, you might think twice before voting against Dillingham’s pic.

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