No, nobody puts a chip in you along with the Covid vaccine — but there’s a side effect where you start to look and sound like Chip Douglas!
Actually … forget it, false alarm. I just remembered that already look and sound like Chip Douglas.
HEY, UNCLE CHARLEY.
Seriously, the side effects from my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine yesterday have been minor. My arm is still sore, and I felt BLECH with fatigue last night — but I woke up this morning back to my usual nerdy self.
He just seems so goddamn earnest — like your 11-year-old kid trying out for the team.
And he at least looks better in that uniform than I would. (Nolan’s got a spare tire.)
My friend Daniel Heintz: “Boy, what changes will happen in a year.”
Me: “Yep. Heintz’ sight is 20/20.”
Just a nifty stick I found by the Potomac River.
(Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses.)
It actually just occurred to me that she is the only character that I’m aware of in the Marvel Cinematic Universe who’s broken the fourth wall. (Sure, Deadpool does it all the time, but he hasn’t been introduced to the MCU yet.)
That depressing moment when you realize that Bud Abbott was better equipped to handle a public health crisis than Texas Governor Greg Abbott.
“Cheese Was His Downfall.”
— my future epitaph, probably
I’m not sure who our mystery predator is here. As I’ve noted before, there is a notable dearth of stray cats in Roanoke. I occasionally see one — but it’s nothing like my native New York, where stray cats outnumber people with a clean driving record.
Maybe the pupper next door did it. I dunno. He seems to be one of those gruff dogs who’s nevertheless timid (and adorable). He sort of grumble-barks tentatively and then goes instantly quiet when you make eye contact with him. He wandered into my backyard last summer and spent at least five minutes literally trembling in front of an empty tent, before he got up enough courage to bark at it. Eventually he even ran away from that.
Whatever the case, I hope that the little patch of ground below doesn’t lie along a suburban game trail. The is a place where bunny buds are known to roam. And the last one I startled there just ran in a confused figure eight — and then mistakenly ran at me for a moment instead of away. (Little brown fella had some kind of spatial relations problem. Or maybe he was channeling General Woundwort.)
I think we finally figured out who Agnes was as a little girl …
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 