Well, well, well, what do we have coming up this week? Oh, nothing much. Just yet another hurricane, Halloween, a full moon on Halloween, a time change and the election.
I can’t decide which one I find most frightening! Probably the time change. Oh wait, this is the one where we get an extra hour. Never mind, it’s definitely Hallow-moon-acane 2020 then!
But before we get to all that insanity, we have to review last week’s shenanigans. And said shenanigans were pretty crazy too.
So, let’s get to it!
You Zeta be kidding me?
Yep, another hurricane in the Gulf means more hunkering and battening, waiting to see if our cone of uncertainty will become more decisive and getting awakened at 4:30 a.m. by our phones for a storm surge warning two days before the storm arrives. Thanks for that, National Weather Service! Could that not have waited until, at least, say 5:30 a.m.? The only thing surging at my house was rage!
But there is a silver lining, as another hurricane also means a new collection of storm-related memes from the funny folks at MobTown Memes.
One of the Boozester’s favorites of Zeta expressed the feelings many had after the 4:30 a.m. “wake up call.” Well done, Memesters!
Check them out on Facebook at MobTown Memes, if you haven’t already.
Sign of the times?
One of my spies who we will call the “Good Daddy” said he was dropping off his child at Mother’s Day Out in Midtown on Monday when he observed an “old, bald-headed man” walking down the street. The elder with the chrome dome noticed a Doug Jones sign in someone’s yard and began kicking it repeatedly until it was destroyed. Once his work was done, he just kept on walking. No word on if any other signs were injured during his daily stroll.
Invasion of the dandy men?
Last Thursday afternoon, my phone started blowing up with random photos of men. No, not those kinds of photos. Get your minds out of the gutter!
No, the spies were sending me pics of “gentlemen” stationed all around downtown. They were dressed in navy blazers with red flower boutonnieres and puffy pants stuffed in their socks. They were also sporting straw hats. One spy said they looked like a band of “old-timey golfers” or a “lost croquet team.” Hmmmm.
Apparently, when people approached them to see who they were or what the hell was going on, they refused to speak.
My spies said they were handing our Mardi Gras beads so they figured it must have something to do with a society. Either that or initiation into a Satanic cult. Who knows?!?!
But I am told they looked really fancy and disappeared as quickly as they appeared.
Only in Mobile .…
Well, kids, that’s all I have this week. I hope you survive the moon, the ’ween and the Zeta, all while still fighting the ’rona. And remember, whether rain or shine, dramatic or scandalous or just some plain ol’ dandy lovin’, I will be there. Ciao!
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