Love from Florida
So I got this CHRISTMAS CARD delivered to me in the newsroom. It’s unsigned and the writing covers both inside pages as well as the back of the card. What a warm letter it is, too. Goes on and on at length about how the sender is spending the winter months in the sunny climes of Florida, clad in only a half T-shirt and thong (I might be making that part up), while I languish here in the north, buried in snow and shivering in the cold. Merry Christmas to you too, rat fink. May you step on a murder hornet.
Good Grief
So, I was wrong about something last week, can you imagine that? Charlie Brown and his wacky group will NOT be coming to a TV near you over the holidays without a lot of rigamarole because . . . Well, I don’t know why. Some TV executive somewhere decided to pile on in this already wretched year, I suppose. But anyway, it got me thinking: How come nobody says “Good grief” anymore? It’s a great catchall line, one you could use to express disappointment, surprise, glee, indifference or outright bitterness. “Good grief,” LaFlamme cried. “I didn’t think that guy in Florida would REALLY step on a hornet.”
Grin and bear it
There’s a bear sculpture in downtown Lewiston. Allegedly. I’m told. Haven’t seen it myself. I don’t know what it means or who made it, but I hear it’s made out of poison-dipped razor blades, so the first drunken fool who tries to ride it is in for a bit of a bloodletting. Still better than stepping on a hornet, though.
Special delivery
I’m also told that there’s a mailbox set up somewhere with face coverings inside. I don’t know where or why, but I promised to write about it, so there you go, wife. YOU come up with something funny to say about that.
In a music store under the sea
Dramatic news from downtown Lewiston this week as a man was spotted in Bullmoose Music performing zealous CPR on a stuffed SpongeBob SquarePants toy. That’s a pretty funny bit, I admit it, but ultimately the joke’s on him. According to the popular website phylumrespiratoryexamin.weebly.com (go ahead and look that up), because they are so primitive, sponges have no distinct respiratory system, although they do require oxygen to survive. The sponge is possessed with small pores, also known as ostia, that allow it to absorb oxygenated water and thereby obtain the oxygen it needs. Clearly SpongeBob wasn’t in respiratory distress, he was just angling for a free grope. Sponges are very amorous creatures. Probably.
Blech
If you’re reading this on Sunday, welcome to hell. It’s November. The clocks were set back last night. There’s snow in the forecast. I’m morose. If you need me, I’ll be riding the bear, or possibly SpongeBob SquarePants.
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