As Hartford’s “Butt Ugly Building” comes down, I have to wonder if we’re giving it a fair chance. From low-income housing in the ‘50s to gang wars in of the ‘80s, right up to the conviction of Mayor Eddie Perez, it embodies the rich history of our capital city. Who knows? A fresh coat of paint, some curtains on its boarded-up windows, a spread of clean needles for the heroin addicts, and we could really spruce it up.
Your theory is squashed.
A pumpkin thief has pillaged the neighborhood, and this morning looked like Whoville Village after the Grinch stole Christmas. To you, the scandal has a carload of teenagers written all over it—but I know the truth. For generations, we’ve been gutting, carving, and mutilating innocent squash by the millions, leaving them to rot on our doorsteps. The Great Pumpkin is pissed. Nonbelievers, prepare to roll in November with a plague of rotten eggs, whipped cream, silly string, stink bombs, toilet paper, and bags of dog poop with firecrackers. You never know how He’ll unleash his vengeance next.
Bottle o’ larvae, anyone?
A couple weeks ago Similac issued a recall for certain powder infant formulas. Seems one of its manufacturing facilities was contaminated with the common beetle, and the powder could contain insect parts and larvae. They say you are what you eat…and so I present you with…Beetlejuice!
(Ease up people, she didn’t really drink the formula. But if we can’t pick on our kids, what’s the point in having them?)
I don’t ask for much.
Pictured left: Tyler’s lunch. In the middle: Eva’s. Far right, mine. Some of you may aspire for luxury vacations and Lamborghinis. Me? I just want the middle of my sandwich back.