I’m going to out myself here: I am a Bad Masker.
By that I mean I wear them when I’m forced to do so by some misguided governmental fiat, but when I do, I don’t wear them well.
Three-day weekends sound good to me.
A quarter of a million dollars.
That’s the amount that I’ve paid in FICA payroll taxes during my working career, according to my recent Social Security statement.
Yes, receipts do seem to breed like rabbits in my poor overstuffed-with-credit-cards-and-gift-cards-and-loyalty-cards-and-hastily-scribbled-notes wallet.
But that’s my personal problem to sort through at home in my quieter moments.
We knew there was oil under the Gulf of Mexico long before we drilled for it. So much of it bubbled to the surface about 10 miles south of Sabine Pass that schooner captains called the area the “Oil Ponds.”
When I saw the title of W. Kamau Bell’s new docuseries “We Need To Talk About Cosby,” I laughed to myself. That’s all we’ve been doing for over 60 years, although the way we’ve talked about him has shifted dramatically in the past decade.
The longer President Biden lingers in the vicinity of a live microphone, the higher the probability for mischief and yes, entertainment. Given enough time, he may even accidentally recite Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities in its entirety.
It’s possibly the only scandal we are allowed to discuss.
In 2015 the peaceful and tiny world of competitive curling was rocked by a broom kerfuffle that sent the ancient sport reeling.
From time to time, I attempt to make this column more interactive — soliciting reader comments on burning questions such as “Which songs make you cry?,” “What was your favorite summer vacation?,” “Does this font make me look fat?,” etc.
It probably wouldn’t work today, with all the ways we get our entertainment, but not so long ago, when television shows lived or died by Nielsen viewer ratings, the guys at the Lafayette water plant claimed they had a better way to find the favori