He went that-a-way

A police foot chase one recent night came to an end right next to the Wendy’s drive-through window on Center Street in Auburn. See? This is exactly why, if I was a crook, I’d keep a red-headed pigtail wig and some fake freckles as a disguise. As it turns out, I already have those things, but for different reasons.

Heave ho

It’s only early March but I’ve encountered some pretty impressive pot holes and frost heaves already on local roads. The fun thing about hitting a pot hole: you swear going into it, but the ensuing bump and joggle breaks your swear word into a thousand different pieces, so in effect, it’s like you swore a thousand times before coming out the other side. It’s neat.

Make like a tree

Apparently a $200,000 Lamborghini was seized as part of the big marijuana raids last week. Too bad it wasn’t a DeLorean. With a DeLorean, the culprits could have escaped back to 1985.

May I pet your vampire?

The following letter was delivered to me in the newsroom early in the week. This is why I stink of garlic lately. It’s one of the reasons, anyway. “I wish to take issue with your characterization of vampires as belligerent. I have one that I have raised almost since birth and it is the sweetest, most gentle thing imaginable. It does very nicely on a diet of V8 juice, ketchup and the occasional glass of Merlot and never offers to bite, only occasionally nibbling and seldom even breaking the skin. My werewolf, on the other hand, is one mean dude, with four-inch fangs and a nasty disposition, and he and I will be paying you a visit if you continue with this sort of disparaging attitude. Just watch it!”

Event of the century

What’s with everyone calling winter snowstorms “weather events” these days? Such a grandiose term should be reserved for things like rains of frogs or sharknados. And why is the media always puffing up a story by warning in fretty tones that “millions will be affected by this latest weather event?” Define “affected,” would you? I mean, if you look out your window and see falling snow, you’ve been affected. It’s all very murky and annoying. Mostly annoying.

Impaled

You know what I’ll miss when winter is over in six months or so? The experience of pushing a shovel down the driveway and running into one of those pavement ridges, which causes the shovel handle to drive deep into my solar plexus. You just can’t get that kind of joy in summertime.

A bridge too far

The bridge over the canal near Simard-Payne Park in Lewiston will be replaced apparently. This saddens me. Part of the thrill of crossing that rusty old span is the feeling that at any second, you might be dumped into the eel-plagued waters of the canal and spat out into the bigger eel-plagued waters of the Androscoggin River. Every time I make it from one side to the other, I feel like Indian Jones in the Temple of Loyston.