Wow. It's really hot in Kingston.



This heat wave that has swept over my town is starting to drive people insane. They flock to places with air-conditioning, for example, the local grocery store that I frequent very often. But they check their good manners at the door.

That is why I am going to head up the newly formed Grocery Aisle Police force. You can call me captain.

As my first act, I am going to install yellow lights at the end of every aisle. Why? So that you don't get bowled over by a crazy woman who came barrelling out of the aisle at the speed of light in hopes of reaching that pile of pineapple peels she will NEVER USE, just because she has a coupon. Wait, I'm not posting about how coupons make people do insane things. Not here. Nor there.

Aisles should be treated like streets. LOOK BOTH WAYS before exiting. May I remind you we're in KINGSTON? The proud home of that big building that all those mass murderers call home? And say one of them manages to escape, and decides to hit up a grocery store, because everyone knows prison food is horrible, and you decide to run them over with a shopping cart while they are in reach of frozen turkey legs that could double as a bat, METHINKS that could be bad news for you. I'm just saying.

Moving on.

You WILL walk down the right hand side of the aisle. The people that move down the center of the aisle so that they are equi-arms length away from both sides of the aisle, and are always moving as slow as pondwater, will be punished. I'm talking fair game for the aforementioned frozen turkey legs here.

People in the "1-8 items" lane with more than 8 items are next on the agenda. If you've watched two episodes of Sesame Street, you should be able to count to 10, let alone 8. If you cannot count to ten you should be running around in your backyard with a balloon tied to your wrist.

If you're coming to the grocery store to ask for Cod Liver Oil, you might want to check yourself into a hospital's psychiatric ward. Nobody in their right, or left, mind would want cod liver oil. It doesn't even taste like chicken. Just nasty. Filthy. Dirty.

*humming the rest of Dirrrrrty...never bothered to learned the words*