Standing tall in dark times
I’m grieved to announced that my beloved toilet light, a valued member of this family for many long and wonderful months, has died. I ask you, is anything more heart rending than a toilet deprived of all the colors of the rainbow inside it? I’ve ordered another but until it arrives, these are going to be dark days, indeed. I appreciate all the support in these difficult times.

More grim news
I also ask you, is anything more spirit-crushing than ordering something on Amazon for the two-day shipping and then getting notified that it will actually take THREE days to arrive, and possibly four? The holiday season is just ruined. I wonder how the pilgrims survived this kind of thing.

Lewiston launches ‘name that park’ contest
Oh, boy. Here we go. This is my time to shine. They wouldn’t let me name any of the bridges and they shut down my suggested name for the Colisee just because it had the word “underpants’ in it. This time, though, I’m going to come up with something so tantalizing, so fitting and so RIGHT for this patch of land, you people will be dazzled right out of your peejays. Poet laureates will move to Lewiston just to be near such a lyrically named park. Ballads will be written, not about the park itself but for the man who named it with such elegance, finesse and — let’s face it — genius. I can hardly wait to lay this idea on you. It’s going to be big, yo.

Which is not to say…
That I have any ideas at this exact moment. In fact, if you’ve got any suggestions, I’ll take them. Please? Genius is a lonely business.

Math is hard
As usual, I miscalculated while trying to pin down when Thanksgiving is this year (I forgot to carry the two) and so by the time you read this, the day of turkey and yams will be over and done with. It’s unfortunate because I spent a chunk of the year coming up with some fresh turkey jokes to share with you all around the dinner table. I have one involving stuffing, a small dog and a basting brush that would have had you spitting cranberry sauce all over your gramma. Alas, it’s not to be, so I’ll just pack those jokes in Tupperware and save them for next year.

Although I should mention…
That I don’t actually have any of those jokes on me at this exact moment. In fact, if you have any good turkey jokes, send them my way. Please?