MKULTRA took my stuff

My friends, this is so much bigger than the Yogi Soothing Caramel sleep tea that’s been missing lo these long months. Also vanished from the shelves now are Hannaford’s chocolate graham crackers, the Walmart brand of fizzy cold medicine that I drink like evening cocktails around here, and Jolly Time Blast O’ Butter microwave popcorn that I rely on for my very survival. The missing tea was a mild inconvenience, but I now see this for what it is: a global conspiracy directed at me, personally. Out on a dark back road somewhere sits a tractor-trailer filled to bursting with all the items above. The driver stands outside the cab, smoking rank cigars and waiting for the call to come in over the radio. “Don’t deliver it yet, Joe. The man still has his wits about him and we want him driven mad. MAD, I say!” And what does Joe care? He gets paid by the hour.

Gobbledygook

I got a guy writing me to report wild turkeys that are not only bigger than ever, but also “roaming about in gangs that I highly suspect are being coordinated over social media.” As the kids say, this is huge if true. I have my doubts, though. I’ve never had any luck with avian mysteries. It’s like all those people who write to tell me about MASSIVE CLOUDS OF SKY-BLOTTING CROWS! every other day, but by the time I get out there, nothing. Sometimes I suspect the birds themselves are pranking me, but then, I’ve been particularly paranoid since the whole Yogi tea fiasco.

Wait!!

Are turkeys even birds? Google’s AI response tells me they are, but I don’t trust AI, either. It’s all part of the grand conspiracy and I ain’t falling for any robot lies.

Up the Junction

The good news hidden among all these globalist conspiracies is that I’ve discovered that you can now get both peanut butter and applesauce in squeeze tubes. Squeeze tubes! No utensils, no need to chew or any of that time-wasting business. A couple of quick squirts and bam! You’ve had lunch and can go on with your life! By the way, bonus points for any of my four readers who get the “Up the Junction” reference. See me after class.

RIP right hand riding glove

Well, I done it. Still mourning from my lost riding glove, which vanished from the earth just weeks ago, I went to Tractor Supply to get another pair. You know how this goes. It’s like when your beloved dog dies and you’re so grief stricken, you go and get yourself a puppy. The puppy can never replace the old dog, of course, but it helps fill that void in your life. Or something. I’m just wicked sad about my lost glove. Of course, now that I got a new one, the old one is sure to show up. Doesn’t work that way with dogs, of course. This is all very complicated.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.