Yule be shocked by this news

Look, I hate coming in here every Sunday morning and spilling bad news all over your Eggos, or whatever it is that you people eat. But I have it on good authority – and I’m talking sources deep inside the system here – that Walmart already has its Christmas stuff out. I mean, Christmas trees! And it’s still three weeks before Halloween! Which means that every time you go to Walmart for a bottle of Head & Shoulders, an Alumina garden hose nozzle, a George brand pantsuit or a box of Cilantro Lime Rice-a-Roni, you’re going to be reminded that very soon now, you’re going to have to spend a bunch of money you don’t have on a bunch of gifts that your kids aren’t going to like, anyway. If that doesn’t make you want to weep all over your Jimmy Dean sausage, I don’t know what will.

This item brought to you by Dr. Scholl’s corn pads

As you can see, I’m experimenting a bit with product placement. Hey, someone has to pay the bills around here. Times are tough. Ford tough.

Don’t mess with me, bro. I just got out of Facebook prison

I saw a testy exchange on social media the other day in which one of the riled up combatants said something to the effect of: “You don’t want to disrespect me, bro. Do a Google search and you’ll see.” Is that what passes as tough talk these days? Google me? Back in my day it was “Don’t mess with me, bro, I just got out of prison,” or “You don’t want to start nuttin’ – I killed a guy at my other school.” These kids coming up nowadays . . . So, I Googled the cat in question and what I found was chilling. What he should have said in that vicious online fight was, “Don’t mess with me, bro. My father is among the top three Realtors in the Greater Sheboygan area.”

Sheboygan

I have no idea where that is, but man, it’s fun to say. Try it yourself and tell me I’m wrong!

La la la, I can’t hear you!

You’ve all heard me talking about how I like to root my Android phones, right? Of course you have. Why, it’s like heavenly music to your ears. And part of the reason I engage in such geekery is because I like to control my phone to the point where people I don’t like can’t get through to me if I don’t want them to. No helpful messages from Google. No emergency alerts from the treacherous government. No more annoying gerbil photos from Crazy Aunt Noreen. So, while you were all bracing yourselves for that FEMA test scheduled for Wednesday, I was kicking back in an armchair made of pure smugness, absolutely certain that my fortress of a phone wouldn’t let those gubmint do-gooders babble their nonsense onto my device. And you know what happened? The alert came through, anyway, which means that, forget rooting. I’ve got to go all the way back to rotary phones to rid my ears of this nonsense. 

Town councilors approve Taser purchase

They didn’t want to at first, I’m sure, but they came around. Sooner or later, they all come around.