A good day to castrate farm animals
Hey, don’t look at me like that. This wasn’t my idea. I ain’t castrating anybody. I’m just pointing out that, according to The Farmer’s Almanac, now is a good time if you’re into this sort of thing. And let’s face it: is anything more embarrassing than performing a castration at the wrong time of year? It’s like wearing white after Labor Day. You just don’t do it, bro.
The Candyman can
And speaking of the Almanac, its big cheese, Peter Geiger, has decided that he’ll continue to give away candy this Halloween, but in a safer, more socially distant kind of way. Give him your address and he’ll mail you a Snickers. No, just kidding. He’s going to be handing out the sweet stuff down at Geiger headquarters in Lewiston and you can expect it to be a mob scene down there. Just remember that Geiger is located right next to a very large cemetery and, since the veil separating the living world from the dead is very thin at Halloween, don’t be surprised if you end up with a poltergeist as well as a peanut butter cup in your trick-or-treat bag. Once you get those things in your house, there’s no getting rid of them.
Wilton man runs over three at wedding
Geesh, settle down, dude. You can catch the bouquet at the next wedding. This is one of those situations that must be awkward when jail inmates get around to talking about their crimes. “Me? Well, I didn’t have any rice to throw, so…”
Snug as a bug in a rug
There’s a dude who walks around downtown Lewiston wrapped invariably in a pink blanket. I don’t know if he’s cold or if it’s a security thing, but man, talk about a missed opportunity. Hello! Ever heard of the Snuggie? It’s a blanket with sleeves! I’d offer the guy mine, but without my blankee, I’m just a frazzled mess.
You didn’t see nuthin’
Oftentimes, when I’m running behind writing this column and editors are bugging me for it all editor-like, I’ll simply go for a ride downtown until I see something worthy of mention in this space. It usually involves a shirtless dude doing something peculiar, but hey, I’m open to new ideas. This week, though? I made so many passes up Pine Street, the sex workers were threatening to charge me just for looking. I buzzed around Walnut and Bartlett, circled Kennedy Park, zipped down Lisbon Street and loitered on Park Street half the day only to come up with bupkis to write about. Zilch. Zero. Nuttin’. That always troubles me because I can’t shake the feeling that the odd ducks downtown just put away all their weird behavior until I’m out of sight. Once I’m around the corner, off come the shirts and out come the hula hoops, harmonicas and pogo sticks.
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