Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column making a note to itself to stop using the flash on its camera, avoid spicy food and, shins be damned, forego wearing these Coke-bottle-bottom-magnifying-glass spectacles we’re blind without.
This fire ban stuff has us paranoid – not the bugs-crawling-on-your-skin-reefer-madness paranoia (which we’d know nothing about) but the Lord-don’t-let-me-be-that-guy-in-the-tank-top-on-“Cops” kind of paranoia. In case you haven’t heard, the police are strictly enforcing this fire ban (and if you haven’t heard, where the heck have you been?).
For instance, did you know that one of those candles you light to keep the bugs away is a violation of the fire ban? It also might surprise you to hear Johnny Law can cite you for having an open fire on your property. Basically, anything related to combustion is a no-no and pretty much the worst thing we can imagine is forever being known as “those guys who started the fire of ’02,” and for some reason, we imagine “guys” isn’t exactly the word people would use to describe us.
So, no more flash photography. In fact, we’re going to keep ourselves completely waterlogged, clothing, wallet and all, so nothing of ours can be accused of contributing to a fire (a mildew smell, maybe, but that’s the price we pay for safety).
Just thought we’d share this as a reminder.
Do you think Pavarotti scores a lot of chicks? We’re beginning to wonder if all our rock star dreams weren’t misplaced. Instead of listening to Cream, maybe we should have been heaping extra helpings of it onto our pasta.
Pavarotti, as we’re sure all our readers know, is a big opera star – big in the opera world, and big himself. Despite being 67, the guy still belts it out (get it? “belts”?), and he’s like an Italian national hero. We have to imagine he’s pretty popular with the ladies, as well. Putting on a few pounds would seem a lot easier to us than maintaining that heroin-bulimia chic look most of your rockers sport.
Then again, we don’t even know if an opera groupie would quite compare to the alternative. And, considering how long it’s taken the United States to catch on to soccer, we figure trying to push opera on everybody might be too much at once.
Paul in Breckenridge was not impressed by a fellow motorist and called in this Scum Alert!! Scum Alert!! Tuesday night, Paul was driving from Frisco to Breckenridge and witnessed the driver of the red-and-white Ford Bronco in front of him pitch out not one, but two cigarette butts on the way there.
To the driver: Paul has your license plate number. To Paul: We bet the sheriff’s office would love to take your statement, along with that license plate number.
After all, who needs karma when you have the perfectly embarrassing prospect of getting a ticket for not knowing enough to put your cigarette out in an ashtray?
It’s Thursday, and we think everybody should just switch over to candy cigarettes (’cause you know the powdered sugar smoke is cooler anyway). Let us know what you think at
email@example.com, fax at (970) 668-0755 or just put the receiver up to your ear and record the sound of the gears turning on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998 ext. 237.
We’re out trying to promote our new asbestos tree protectors (they double as Christmas decorations!) …
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