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It’s March, and Carmine comes in like a lion!

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I’m madder than a squirrel who is starving because he lost the maps to all of his nuts over that fact that I can’t keep up with things anymore thanks to the fact that I’ve got so much stuff that I don’t know what I did with it!

Look, you all know the ol’Screecher has a way of piling things up on his desk and in his desk and under his desk and around his desk and in the closet and on top of the closet and around the closet and stuffed in a mattress under the floorboards in the attic, so I don’t need to tell you that every time I file something for safe keeping, I always lose it!

Case in point is the receipt for my beloved newest toy, an inch-high, two-inch wide, one-inch fat speaker that was small enough for me to carry between my two fingers, but had a volume that went well past “11.” I put the speaker in the carriage on the reigns of my trusty steed Tornado, and blasted my favorite music for all to hear as I cruised down 86th Street! It was even louder than the D train! But the best part about it was at night, I could record my thoughts as only I could think them, then blast those recordings at the various civic meetings I attend to get my point across to everyone.

And you know who loved it more than me? The guys that drive me in the Access-A-Ride when my lovely wife Sharon can’t put up with cramming me into our Plymouth! I’d get in after waiting way too long on the street and blast some Tito Puente that the grandkids used magic to get onto my MePhone! They would go nuts and we would hop and bop all the way to the Staten Island Mall!

Speaking of which, a lot of youse have been asking me, “Carmine, you live in Brooklyn. Why the heck are you traveling all the way to The Rock to get your provisions?” The answer, dear reader, is because I know a deal when I see one. See, if I was to drive to Staten Island, it would cost me a bunch in gas, not to mention (as I am about to) the ridiculous toll on that Bridge to Nowhere! But when I take Access-A-Ride, I get door-to-door service for the price of a subway fare, saving me thousands of dollars a year. Nobody messes with the Screecher, the Screecher does the messing!

But I digress. See, it turns out, after weeks of faithful service, my Little Screecher stopped working, and I went on a frantic search for my receipt so I could bring it back to the store from whence it came. But because I’ve created a “piling system” instead of a “filing system” at my office inside Harway Terrace, I couldn’t find it. So I piled away the speaker, and went on a frantic search for the receipt. I checked the pile in the drawer, the pile on top of the drawer, the pile around the drawer. Not there. Then I checked the pile in the closet, the pile on top of the closet, ant the pile around the closet (not to mentions, as I am about to do, the pile on top of the pile around the closet!). Nothing! I searched non-stop for more than a week, breaking only to eat and hit the head, when I finally found the receipt right where I left it — in the pockets of what I call, for reasons only I understand, my “Tuesday pants.”

Still, there was one problem — I forgot where I piled my speaker! Now, I have the receipt, but no Little Screecher to return!

Here’s this week’s “Screecher Senior Pro Tips!”

Lastly, I’d like to point out that every once in a while the Screecher has a happy accident (draw whatever conclusion you want to out of that one). Last week, I mistakenly reported that Al Gore promised us global warming, and he still hasn’t kept his promise. Well, it turns out that some astute readers have pointed out that our former vice president didn’t make that promise at all, and I had misheard what he was trying to say (or at least misremembered it). In fact, it was Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan who made this promise back in the 1970s or something. So now I blame him for not keeping his promise!

Finally, we join in the heartfelt loss of Peter Walsh, beloved husband of Anna Marie Messina Walsh, head of Most Precious Bloods RC Church’s Honora Society. We extend our sincerest condolences.

In conclusion, don’t forget to e-mail BWECC@aol.com for info and reservations to BWECC!’s 54th Carmine Awards on March 5 at the incomparable El Caribe Country Club.

Screech at you next week!

Read Carmine's screech every Sunday on BrooklynPaper.com. E-mail him at diegovega@aol.com.
Updated 10:17 pm, July 9, 2018
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Reasonable discourse

Jim from Cobble Hill says:
Wow...

" I put the speaker in the carriage on the reigns of my trusty steed Tornado, and blasted my favorite music for all to hear as I cruised down 86th Street!"

You're an awful person.
March 1, 2015, 8:21 am
Or from Yellow Hook says:
Moynihan!
March 2, 2015, 10:32 am

Comments closed.

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