Tell me how you really feel
Last week, when the scent of chicken “leavings” wafted across the Twin Cities, so many people wrote me about it that I was initially confused about the nature of their unhappiness. “It stinks!” declared one man. “It’s crap!” snapped another. One lady complained, “It makes me want to gag!” while another wrote “vile sewage!” You can understand my confusion, certainly. These are the same type of statements I typically hear in reaction to my columns.

The Great Stink Off of 2019
It was the strangest thing. When I first reported that story, it was to relate that Lewiston alone was responsible for the effluvium. But then my phone started bleating and it was somebody from Auburn demanding that they should get partial credit for the stench. So I added that to the story, only to get a call back from a Lewiston guy. “They may have spilled some manure, but we’ve been intentionally spreading it across not one, but TWO ball fields. The majority of the stink is ours!” To which Auburn replied, in essence: “Nuh uh!” Crazy. You see? This is the kind of fun we’d miss if we had merged the two cities.

Grand theft oughta
On Green Street in Lewiston the other day, I came upon a Chevy Camaro, or possibly a Dodge Charger, parked right in the middle of the road. I don’t mean it was parked off to the side and just sort of in the roadway. It was parked in the middle, so that it was difficult for other drivers to get around it on either the right or left. Intriguing, right? I’m thinking that when you happen upon a stupidly parked car like that, one should be allowed to take it for free. That would serve as a deterrent for bad parkers and it would set me up with a sweet Camaro. Or possibly a Charger.

The screaming goat
I was outside playing with strange dogs the other day, even though I didn’t know where they’d been, when my wife hollered for me to come in. “Please,” she said. “When you’re not inside, can you for the love of God turn off the screaming goat?” I figured the time had come at last and I’d have to start looking for a good home for the poor woman. But no. She was talking about the spiffy new notification sound on my phone. A thing of beauty, it is. A goat screaming long and loud enough for all the farm to hear. I can’t wait for it to sound the next time I’m in a long work meeting.

Just kid-ding
I don’t go to work meetings.


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