Boy, I had high hopes when I saw this headline. At last, I thought! Walmart stores are finally being revealed as secret portals to parallel dimensions, which would finally explain why our current timeline is so messed up. Alas, the story turned out to be some dry business thing about property tax assessments, corporate strategies, valuations and blah blah blah. They should have let me write this one. I would have jazzed it up by blaming the whole mess on the secret super collider they’re hiding in the Antarctic.

The conflict in Ukraine forced me to dust off Twitter as I went searching for the most recent updates at the start of the sordid affair. After many long hours of careful study, I can tell you this with utter certainty: I still don’t understand how Twitter works.

Somebody should call me about this. I have some ideas. Strong ideas. True, most of them involve drumming equipment and dual sport motorcycle accessories, but that’s just me thinking outside of the box.

Just kidding. Made you look, though, didn’t I?

Have you ever encountered one of those drunk gals at a party who goes on dancing even though the music has stopped? Of course you have. Everyone knows that lass. There’s no music but she just goes on boogieing from one end of the house party to the other, dancing to the music in her soul, or something. Well, since the local police blocked their scanner traffic to us, I fear that I AM that drunk girl. Every day, I turn on my police scanner, trying to get in tune with the rhythms of the city, but hope as I might, there’s no such music to dance to. The only difference between me and the party girl is that I’m not drunk. As far as you know.

Aaaand because we can no longer have nice things in Clown World, Major League Baseball will apparently not be there to greet us when winter winds down. This one hurts. How come nasty things like black flies, deer ticks and potholes never get canceled? This dimension blows.

During one of those annoying snow squalls the other day, I saw a Nissan Titan struggling to get up a tiny, snow-slicked hill in Lewiston. Obviously this horrified me. As a Titan owner myself, I know full well that this truck laughs at rough terrain and could have easily ascended that hill backwards on two wheels just to show off. Clearly the driver somehow forgot to switch into 4-wheel drive, which is sure to come up at the next super secret meeting of the Titan Club where we’re plotting to take over the nation’s highway system. Which, now that I think of it, is probably why the club is a secret. Just forget I said any of this.