Robot invasion!

Sorry to scare you like that. It’s just important that you know that a veritable army of robot reporters has been covering local news lately. As I predicted years ago, by the way. I find these stories from time to time while researching current news. After a pedestrian accident in Auburn last week, the robot reporters were all over it, delivering robot fugly lines such as “An area lady was hit by a automotive on Marston Hill Street on Tuesday night and suffered accidents that weren’t thought-about to be life-threatening, in response to Auburn Police Lt. Scott Watkins.” Not to mention: “Marston Hill Street was closed to visitors whereas police investigated. No costs have been instantly filed.” I mock them now, but how long is it going to be before I’m standing in the unemployment line while the T-851 is parked at my desk and helping itself to my crayons and whatnot?

Over the river and through the woods

So, to get to the scene of a Route 202 crash in Greene the other night, I thought I’d get all creative by parking on West Main Street and attempting to cut through a small stretch of woods. Yeah, great idea, Rambonehead. Try cutting through random yards in Greene in the middle of the night. That’s a great way to: A) Experience the delightful sound of a 12-gauge Mossberg being racked in the dark; B) Get mauled by a dog the size of a snowmobile; C) Meet Chupacabra. Fortunately, an awesome local named Tony led me through a maze of yards, gardens and pathways to deliver me safely to the scene. I honestly don’t know how I survive those moments when I don’t have adult supervision.

Say it like you mean it

As a veteran of many haunted hayrides and walk-through attractions, like the one described to your left. I can tell you that the most common utterances among those subjected to various ghouls pouncing out of the darkness are: “What the!” “Gaah!” “Eeeee!” and “Holy son of a!” The highest-pitched shrieks of terror you hear almost always come from guys, too. Our shame is great.

That’s a nice lanyard you got there

I don’t want to express an opinion on the Boy Scouts issue right now, but I can tell you that if the organization had admitted girls back when I was that age, I would have joined. I would have put so much effort into that action, I’d have been a full bird colonel before I was old enough to shave.

Hannaford in Mechanic Falls?

Well, that ain’t right. You build that sucker on one of my favorite trails, I guarantee I’ll be riding straight through the produce section as if it wasn’t there. Pomegranate? What pomegranate?

Who let the dogs out?

I can’t believe this wasn’t the headline on the story about the teacher who won $1 million and then stole a leash. I do love me some low-hanging fruit.

The mouths on you people

I won’t lie to you. I’ve been having trouble filling this column space lately. I’m tired, been working a lot and it’s probably your fault. Happens to all guys, right? So, I put out a query on Facebook asking readers what they felt were the talk of the town topics for the week. Boy, was that a bad idea. It was like reading a drug-fueled Hunter S. Thompson porn script. Which is great fun, don’t get me wrong. Just not much I can use here. Still, you gotta admit, I just added a solid two inches to the column. Suckers!

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