So I noticed recently that there’s a new ice cream joint on South Jefferson Street. (At least I think it’s new; it takes me forever to notice anything.)
It looks auspicous. I might just go looking for a tall chocolate milkshake into which to drown my sorrows.
Libertarian friend: “There is another option! Chase Oliver! He’s on the ballot!”
Me: “I would Chase Oliver but I wouldn’t know what to do if I caught him.”
Photo credit: Gage Skidmore from Surprise, AZ, United States of America, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
The lights flickered and a bulb started crackling; then the tv turned itself on.
That means an angel got its wings, or got caught in the power lines, or something.
Polish people are just as honest as anybody else.
Gonna start a Pink Floyd cover band with a couple of other psych majors, gonna call it “Jung Lust.”
My buddy Gary Monte saw me posting this on Facebook and chimed in with this: “I started one called ‘Run Like Hell’ and we were so bad, that’s exactly what the audience did!”
This is me running from those goddam monster-people on the “From” tv show.
What the hell are they, anyway?
They’re not traditional vampires, zombies or ghouls; they don’t feed off of their victims … at least not physically. They’re not ghosts. (They’re corporeal and require sleep.)
Would they be shape-shifters? If so, they’ve got only two modes: 1) pale people and 2) fangtastic.
I read an interesting hypothesis on Reddit — that the word “from” actually means “fairy” in antiquated Welsh or Gaelic or something (kind of like the arcane “fae.”) But I’ve since lost track of that post.
Your guess is as good as mine. But they’re the scariest thing on television since the Night King’s wight army on “Game of Thrones.” (“True Blood’s” various creatures grow milquetoast the longer I watch the series. And “The Walking Dead’s” new uber-zombies still sometimes feel like disposable Daryl-fodder.)
There is only one clue that I’ve noticed that I haven’t seen mentioned by others — they all seem to be wearing period clothing. (Am I nuts or do they all look like they’re wearing 50’s-era clothes?)
If you were a kid in the 1980’s and you wanted to see ANY holiday special … you snooze, you lose. It was a Darwinian pop-culture childhood consumer jungle.
Alright, alright — yeah, I guess VCR’s were first appearing. Whatever.
By the way … check out the old TV Guide-era fonts for channel numbers. 🙂
It’s those damn weird ketchup packets! They’re too hard to open! Squeezing them as hard as I could always worked out well before!!
Not today.
It looks like I had lunch with a certain former president on one of his bad days. (And you know he’d dodge the bill.)
Just once I’d love to leave the house without embarrassing myself in public.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 
