April showers

The last time I complained about dreary, wet, gloomy, lousy, rotten, vaguely fish-smelling April weather, the day the column ran it was sunny bright and T-shirt warm. Clearly, I have powers you mortals can’t even comprehend. You don’t even know, man. So in hopes of sparking another warm, sunny weekend for us all, I shall grouse with gusto about this putrid weather to anyone who will listen. In fact, what’s your address? I’ll come over right now so you can hear my complaints up close.

There’s no ‘I’ in ‘ageless’

What’s the deal with former mayor and kung fu motivational speaker John Jenkins? I saw him crossing the street near the newspaper the other day and I swear, the man looks exactly the same as he did in 1994 when I first met him. In fact, if anything, he looks slightly younger now than he did waaaaaaaay back then. I think we may have to come to terms with the idea that John Jenkins may be a vampire. If I were him, I’d totally run on the vampire platform in his bid for the governor’s seat.

Stephen King for governor?

I’m going to go with no on this one. As much as I’ve enjoyed his work over the years, I’d rather see Randall Flagg as governor, or poor Gage Creed after his trip through the cemetery in the woods. I would cast a vote for hulking, drooling Cujo or even Christine, the car, before throwing my support behind the author who created them.

It’s funny ‘cus it’s true?

On Wednesday, I wrote a completely forgettable “Street Talk” that was mediocre at best. What can I tell you? I was fresh off vacation and the cobwebs were thick. The tagline at the end of that column, however, was one for the record books. Utterly shocking. I mean, did you SEE what they called me? Not that I didn’t have it coming, mind you. Editor vengeance, my friend. You don’t fool around with that stuff.

Sharks in Sebago Lake!

There’s a news story going around about wildlife officials stocking Sebago Lake with a bull shark in order to eradicate predatory fish and, presumably, slow swimmers. It’s obviously a bogus story, but what if it wasn’t? A shark in Sebago Lake would transform a boring old paddle boat ride into something one could get excited about.

Let’s toss some chum!

If it turns out there IS a shark in Sebago Lake, I’m totally going to charter a rickety, undersized boat and head out to hunt the beast, mainly in the middle of the night and while hammered on Narragansett. I’ve got the perfect team for it, too. There’s animal control officer Wendell Strout, who helped me hunt the Turner Beast in 2006 (which wasn’t all that hard, given that the Turner Beast was dead to begin with); exotic pet handler Mr. Drew Desjardins, who will conduct all of his shark-hunting affairs with a massive boa constrictor draped over his shoulders; and local wildlife management stud Richard Burton, who definitely has the surly disposition to fill the Quint role to perfection. Me, I’d like to think of myself as a Hooper type, but let’s be honest. I’m probably more of a Brody. Seriously, isn’t this boat way too small for this kind of thing? I’m scared and I want to home.


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