Colby Could Become the State Cheese
A group of state lawmakers introduced a bill to make Colby the state cheese of Wisconsin this week. This bill is a heroic bipartisan effort by men and women who know what government is meant to do. To quote George Washington – “Henceforth, from this day, we stand as a nation united by the virtue of our common ties and affections, those be to liberty, self-government, and the righteous love of cheese, baby.” Unfortunately, this bill was proposed two years ago and the Senate didn’t vote on it – I can only assume because they hate America. Now they have a chance to rectify that mistake. So listen here, Senators. Colby is a phenomenal cheese developed in the beautiful city of Colby, Wisconsin in 1885. It smashes provolone, crushes cheddar, annihilates gouda, and respectfully acknowledges it’s one true competitor, Muenster. Wisconsin should be proud of this cheese. We should hoist it up above our heads in joyous celebration. Especially now, when those hippies in California claim to make better cheese than us, and those Frenchmen across the ocean snicker at us with their bries and their roqueforts. Spit in their cheese, you legislators you, and show them that Wisconsin will not be cowed by fromage frauds. Colby forever!
Lowest COVID-19 Cases Since March 2020
This is a nice one. Our seven-day average of daily COVID cases hit 63 this week. The number hasn’t been that low since March 22, 2020. Kind of like my weight. Ba-dum tss. Jokes.
The Milwaukee Art Museum is Back
After closing down due to COVID, and then a year of being semi-open, the MAM is finally returning 100% on July 15. No more capacity limits or closed areas, but masks will still be required indoors. This winged institution has been deeply missed, although I do still hold a grudge for their refusal to show my exhibition: “1,500 Bottled Farts.” It was an exploration of humanity’s capacity for metaphysical transcendence through the embrace of the repulsive, but they just thought it was “gross,” and “indicative of a disturbed mind,” and “please never call us again.” Whatever.
Clairvoyant Bucks Fans
There’s a man goes by the name of Jarrett. That’s two Ts. Last name of Plahmer. Rhymes with a certain somebody we don’t like to talk about around here. Now, couple years back – 2016 to be precise – our man Jarrett was just a kid, a junior at UW-Madison. He was living the life of a student in that day and age, nothing special, but one day Mr. Jarrett took out his phone, opened up the Twitter application, and he began to type. Now on that day, Nov. 3, 2016, if you so happened to be – purely as an example – breaking into the Fiserv Forum construction site to steal copper wire to fund your increasingly troublesome gambling addiction, then I tell you right now that at the exact moment Jarrett began typing out a tweet, you could hear the faint echo of screaming fans in the air. Jarrett typed and tweeted these very words: “2021 NBA finals Bucks vs Suns game 7 Bucks win 123-115.” Five years later, and here we are. Will the Plahmer Prophecy be fulfilled? Is Jarrett a modern-day Elijah who walks among us? Will my fungal infection ever clear up? These are all questions I cannot answer, my son, but I will tell you tell this one fatal flaw in his prediction … Bucks in six.
2021 NBA finals Bucks vs Suns game 7 Bucks win 123-115— Jarrett Plahmer (@Plahm1) November 3, 2016
Virtual Reality Cops
Detective Rollo McTingting and his partner Bertha stand outside the warehouse.
“This is the place,” Rollo says. “Heroin, kidnapping, murder and tax evasion – the epicenter of Milwaukee crime runs out of this very warehouse.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bertha says. “I was at the meeting.”
“I said it for the benefit of the readers, Bertha.”
“Never mind. Shut up. I hear crime.”
A gunshot rings out. Rollo clutches his chest.
“NO,” Bertha screams.
Rollo rolls behind his Rolls, bullets exploding the car’s windshield. He reaches into his bulletproof vest and plucks the .582 sniper cartridge from the kevlar directly over his heart.
“You’ll never catch me,” screams Frankie Fagoole, underboss of the Third Ward. A screech of tires, and Frankie’s car comes flying out of the warehouse. Rollo draws his gun and sights carefully, steadying his breath. He fires once. Frankie’s tire blows out. The car flips five times and lands on its roof in the middle of the street. Rollo takes off running, dodging sniper bullets left and right. He slides into cover next to the smoking remains. Frankie Fagoole, hanging upside down against the dashboard pulls his gun, and Rollo kicks it away before he can get off a shot.
“You’re under arrest, Frankie,” he says. “You have the right to pound sand.”
“Well done, Detective,” the supervisor says, before removing Rollo’s helmet.
Rollo is standing in a small windowless room surrounded by screens displaying the warehouse. The supervisor, a lab coat-wearing woman, is jotting notes on an iPad.
“Your performance was optimal,” she says, mounting the helmet back on the wall. “You’ve been cleared for real cop stuff.”
“Damn right I have,” Rollo says, lighting a cigarette.
This the future, people. Police Departments in Superior and Racine are both implementing virtual reality training for their officers. Ok, so in reality, this is almost the exact opposite of that Rollo story. The goal of this virtual training is to improving officers’ “verbalization” and “communication,” abilities, not their sniper-dodging skills. But hey, there’s always the next update.
The Death of Big Jake
The Guiness-certified world’s tallest horse died at its family home in Poynette, Wisconsin this week. The steed’s name was Big Jake, and he was 20 years old, 6 feet, 10 inches tall, and 2,500 pounds. To honor this horse’s life, I will now embed the best horse-related scene in television history below – the ending of season 4, episode 5 of “The Sopranos.” What a scene. What a show. What a horse.