Wallingford’s summertime death machine

Some heartless wife I know tricked me into going to Wallingford’s last weekend and managed to crush both my spirit and my heart. Wallingford’s is a fine place and all, but I associate the joint with fall and all things autumnal. Being there on a hot summer day just felt wrong. And not the fun kind of wrong. Just wrong. They had pumpkins out. Pumpkins! I tell you, it should be illegal to display pumpkins in weather that’s suitable for the beach. I’m going to call my congressman at once. You know, once I use Google to figure out who my congressman is.

Squiggly line guy

It’s a late summer miracle. One recent evening, I went out into my driveway and beheld the dude that smears goo across road cracks with some funky Dr. Seuss looking machine. I see those squiggly goo lines all the time and wonder how they got there. I never expected to see the magic for myself, though. I tell you, seeing this guy in action was like spotting Bigfoot, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus chasing a unicorn across Atlantis. Hey, if you don’t thrill easy, it doesn’t happen often.

All the king’s men

I got a letter in the mail the other day from a guy who was really REALLY mad that I’d made fun of the Burger King mascot in a recent Talk of the Town. I mean, he was fuming. I’m not saying this guy is a member of the king’s elite Praetorian Guard, but I got the feeling that one more negative word about his majesty and my butt would be getting eaten by lions soon after.

That’s my scarf and I want it back

At Martel School in Lewiston, plumbing was an issue last week because some fool flushed a scarf down a toilet. While snaking the pipes, workers also found several pairs of mittens tied together with a piece of yarn, a hat with a frilly ball on top and several pairs of boots with removable wool liners. At that point, the workers realized they had snaked all the way to the Goodwill store and everybody had a good laugh. OK, not really, but how cool would that be?

Courts take the fun out of everything

Police came across a fellow in Lewiston the other day who had probation conditions prohibiting him from possessing crack cocaine, powdered cocaine or counterfeit money. Well, shoot. There goes our trip to Atlantic City.

You’ve got voicemail!

You know what I’ve been encountering a lot of lately? Returning calls only to get that chipper woman’s recorded voice telling me that “the caller you are trying to reach has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet.” I hate when that happens. You do your duty by returning a call and then can’t even get credited for it by leaving a message. I feel so cheated. In an unrelated matter, yo Gerry with the hot rod car! Got your call about the trash lady. Give me a call back, would ya?

Cashier fu

You ever notice how the cashiers at both Shaw’s and Hannaford sometimes fling those customer divider bars with such force, it’s like they’re actively mad at them. A lass at Shaw’s the other day was hurling those bars back down the line with such ferocity, I think a few of them ended up in the meat department where they impaled a few hams. She was all like, “Shabalabadingdong, divider bar! You’ve insulted me for the last time!” I think that after closing time, they went out to the parking lot to settle things.