Soon the long strange LSD trip that was the Spokane area’s summer of 2005 will slide into the psychedelic tar pits of time. There’s only one proper way to say so long.
It is time for another installment of Reeeaaader’s Windbaaag – the irregular forum that allows my stalkers to go off their meds and express themselves without fear of being identified, verified or checked for moles by a visiting federal judge.
And scratchin’ makes it worse
Taking the judge’s lowered pants mole-exam explanation at face value, Vicki shudders to imagine what social chaos would result if we were all able to publicly “disrobe and examine our body blemishes: warts, rashes, flea bites, allergic reactions …”
Dear Mr. D. Cluck …
Despite the common perception, not all readers would like to see me wrapped in duct tape, rolled into the trunk of a junked Chrysler and left to rust at the Spalding auto graveyard.
“Thank you for the great column in today’s paper,” writes Barbara.
Wow. How nice. I was feeling pretty proud of myself when I read this. Until I got to the last sentence:
“I wish the Spokesman had more interesting and talented writers like yourself and Kushner.”
Gee, thanks, Babs.
And columnist Jeb Kushner says thanks, too.
A convoy of Silly Useless Vehicles
Clifford was wheeling through downtown Spokane the other day when he noticed a peculiar phenomenon. He reports seeing a half-dozen drivers – all in huge macho SUV rigs – go into a slug-paced crawl trying to daintily negotiate the bumpy sections of freshly torn road.
“I thought these SUVs were designed for being used in these kinds of environments,” Clifford writes. “This just goes to show that these road hogging, gas guzzling vehicles must be mainly for show and intimidation.”
Aw, don’t be a stiff, Cliff. SUVs are vital practical equipment.
How else does a Junior Leaguer get her shopping bags home after a Nordstrom run?
Start your day with Moaning Edition
“Hopefully this is a typo and not a new porn station,” writes S.S., who included a confusing Spokesman- Review news clipping in her letter to me.
To quote the troublesome passage: “… and National Pubic Radio has seen an explosion in its listener-ship over the past four years …”
Puttin’ the Wood back in Millwood
My campaign to be the next mayor of Millwood is gathering the kind of steam political analysts describe as “Big Mo.”
One Millwood resident, who identifies herself as “Valleygirl,” solves the niggling technicality of me not actually being a resident.
“We are willing to adopt you and let you live here until you are elected,” she writes.
I’ll have to check with my wife. But like Hillary Clinton, I’m sure she’ll stand by her dopey man.
Edie, yet another Doug for Mayor booster, suggests that, if elected, I’ll need to install a computer in my office at the Millwood Town Hall. Then, like a certain Spokane mayor, she says I’ll need a moniker for Internet pal-making.
I know, says Edie: “Write-by Guy.”
An outpouring of support
“I laughed so hard at your article today,” writes Dannie, “I spewed Fresca all over my computer screen at work.”
We’ve definitely reached The End
A few thoughts from Don on the toilet travails of Bob Apple, the Spokane councilman who incurred Health Department wrath for not stocking potty paper in the johns of his Hillyard saloon.
“If he really does run his business that way – if this isn’t a bum steer – being a bar owner isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially if he isn’t competent: he is leaving his affairs in arrears.”
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