The boat
It would be swell, when you and I run into each other out in the real world somewhere, if you could ask me what I’m presently watching on the TV. It’s not that I have anything significant to say about the state of entertainment, but I really enjoy saying “Das Boot” in as thick a German accent as I can muster. When you really stress the B in “Boot” it feels great. Hurts a little. Try it yourself and see if I’m wrong!

Spoiler alert!
If you’ve seen “Das Boot” (that hurt a little), for God’s sake don’t tell me who wins WWII.

Das kilowhat?
So, I’m trying to get my head around CMP’s explanation for why they had to jack our bills up an extra $30 a month. After close study of their “standard offer” system and careful calculation of the cents-per-KWH formula, I find that my only question is: What? Give me my money back, you dirty filchers.

Sand krieg
The Great Greene Sand Debacle continues. This week, town officials sent out warnings to residents about the dire consequences they’ll face should they try to swipe more than two buckets of sand from the town supply. Welp, gear up for war, my friends. We’re at the “sternly worded letter” phase and that’s almost always followed by bloody combat in the streets.

Mein held!
Shout out to my newish colleague Vanessa Paolella, who has been covering the education beat so arduously that I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been asked to sit in on a school committee meeting, which to me is like a prison sentence — a very boring and confusing prison sentence. This makes Vanessa heroic in my book. She’s like that soldier in a war movie who volunteers for the dangerous assignment so his buddy can stay safely in the rear playing his harmonica. Or something. I’m giddy.

Das battery
It’s cold. Real cold. I don’t like it. I’ve had to jump start my truck so many times, I’m just leaving the cables attached full time. Ran the thing so long the other day to get it charged up, I ran out of gas. I swore so long and elaborately about that whole ordeal, the frost coming out of my mouth was in the form of an exclamation point. I won’t even TELL you what the snow angel I made looked like.

Ich bin soaked to the bone!
Also, the hot water bottle I like to sleep with (don’t you judge me!) sprung a leak in the wee hours of a very cold recent morning. I woke up soaked in my feety pajamas and it was like summer camp all over again. But here I fear I’ve said too much.

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Mark LaFlamme, talk of the town
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