Does it bug you when I do this?

Did I read somewhere that a man unleashed an army of bed bugs on a government office in Augusta? That’s way more radical than paying your taxes with pennies. I’m curious as to how he rounded them up and how he called them off once the attack was over. Is there a secret command word? Is the secret command word “Cochise?” Because “Cochise” is the command word for my army of head lice and I don’t want there to be any embarrassing mix-ups.


My army of head lice will be with you shortly. I think you know why.

Be a pepper

In Auburn, a woman reportedly jumped off a roof near the Boys and Girls Club and landed, cat-like, on the ground below. Nobody seemed to know where the leaping lady had come from, how she got onto the roof or what her intentions were. Witnesses say she was talking to herself and drinking a Dr. Pepper, which she cradled like a baby as she fled the scene. Come to think of it, the one time I tried Dr. Pepper myself, I kind of wanted to jump off a building, too.


Welcome to wonderland

The combined cities committee has spoken. In our wildest imaginations, I don’t think any of us could have conceived of the name they picked – possibly plucking it out of another dimension – for the anticipated mega city on the Androscoggin River. I mean, you’d have to wander deep into the desert, stay awake for three days and three nights, ingest 75 quaaludes (Rorer 714’s, not that poser Lemmon variety), 15 grams of psilocybin and a dozen alkyl nitrite poppers to reach the level of cosmic awareness necessary to dream up something like that. Hunter S. Thompson himself never expanded his mind enough to imagine such otherworldly things. The human mind just isn’t designed to ponder concepts as intensely exotic as this one. Lewiston-Auburn . . . Just saying it aloud makes me feel a little stoned. The colors, man! Can you hear them?

President Trump blocks Stephen King on Twitter

I feel that this line doesn’t need any sort of embellishing.

Hold the mayo

In Livermore, a guy has been charged with dumping mayonnaise on a dude in a park. Maybe he just misunderstood in health class and thought it was a good idea to always use a condiment.

Flag on the play

On a recent ride to Greene, I chose my route poorly and ran into construction flaggers at every turn. The weird thing is that I’d swear I kept meeting the same flag guy at each stop. At Stetson and College, there’s the flag dude with the funny mustache and a Dunkin’ Coolatta. A mile farther along, near Merrill Road, there he is again, still mustachioed and still sucking on the Coolatta. Way farther up, near Sullivan Road, he appears one more time, still drinking, still mustaching and still holding up that hateful stop sign. Call me crazy but I think they opened up a wormhole to another dimension while slapping down fresh road out there between Lewiston and Greene. And in that dimension, flag guys drink Coolattas. It’s crazy out there, yo.

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