Where the wild things are

So at the suggestion of many of you yahoos, I went out the other day in search of the mighty multi-colored zebra that was being painted on the side of a downtown Lewiston parking garage. Unfortunately, when I started this safari, I didn’t bother to ask for a location. You know what? Lewiston has a lot of parking garages. You know what else? It’s not a great idea to start asking complete strangers in parking garages if they’ve seen a half-formed, 20-foot-tall multi-colored zebra. Half of those strangers will spray you with mace. The other half will insist they HAVE seen the zebra. They’ve also seen an army of marching elves, winged leprechauns handing out cigarettes, Day-Glo bats in funny hats and at least one succubus.

On second thought

I had a wicked funny comment about the recent shenanigans of embattled candidate Seth Cary, but man, it looks like that dude might become the next district attorney and I can’t afford to create grudges. Trust me, though, it was wicked funny.

International House of Burgers?

Reeeeeally? That’s what they’re going with? As re-branding schemes go, this one is perplexing. Say “Ihop” and I think breakfast. Say “Ihob” and I think you’re probably having a stroke, an acid flashback or a demon possession. None of those makes me want a burger. You’re supposed to serve breakfast, fool. To me, IHOP pitching burgers is akin to the Yarn Barn trying to sell me tires.

Quit staring at my tweet

So, annoying work people have asked that I become more active on Twitter. I won’t lie to you. Twitter makes me paranoid. On Facebook, it feels kind of like a party where you know just about everyone and you’re drunk enough so that even idle chitchat seems interesting. On Twitter, it’s like being on a bad trip and being all alone to endure it. Everyone is flinging random words every which way, but it’s like trying to make sense of a kaleidoscope. It freaks me out, man.


Is graduation season over yet? I’ve been spending so much time hanging out with young folk, I think I’m re-entering puberty. The good news is that if this keeps up, I’ll be able to bring my “6 Million Dollar Man” lunch box back into the rotation.

Human pipe cleaner

In Minnesota, a 19-year-old lass got her head stuck in a truck tailpipe while celebrating at a music festival. We’ve all been there, am I right? I think what was more hilarious then the mishap itself was the way news writers across the country fell all over themselves trying to work some form of “exhausting” into their headlines and opening paragraphs. Reporters who weren’t even on the schedule that day went racing to the office, anyway, just so they could work that in there.

Mark LaFlamme