I spun around thinking someone was calling me. But, nope. It was just one of those people who have earphones in and shouting into a phone mic at their chest. They were all the way across the street. You know how it is, they’ve got to make sure the whole zip code is in on the conversation — because it’s so important. Everybody wants to know about somebody’s haircut or wants to know what happened on Bridezilla last night. Good thing they’re screaming it.

The volume is like the old walkie-talkies or worse, the two soup cans tied together by string. You’d go hoarse yelling, "Can you hear me?  Can you hear me?!  Come in, come in.”  More times than not, your brother or friend would tap you on the shoulder, “I’m right here.”  

Yeah, I’ve got rocks in my head and but now I know what to do with them. 

It’s hurricane season and it’s five years since Sandy and there’s not a new jetty in sight.   The beach is shrinking and plenty of people without rocks in their heads are frustrated, angry and fearful. Rallies are held and elected officials express outrage over the inaction. Same old, same old.

Shortly after Sandy, when the destruction was fresh, the Army Corps of Engineers hurried to do beach replenishment and finish

Nothing like visiting the majestic and wonderful Yellowstone National Park to make you think of robots and the end of the world as we know it. I was looking for bison and moose and Big Foot but mostly saw tourists from Asia, many of whom were Japanese.  At least I think they were Japanese. They could have been humanoids programmed to hit you with an elbow as they moved in for the perfect camera shot. From what I’ve been reading, the Japanese have robots running hotels, providing elder care and

When I see a Miller Lite can I think of Tab, the rusty carbonated water that was the first diet soda. In doing my exhaustive research for this column, I was shocked to learn Tab is still sold. I don’t think I’ve seen a can since Luke and Laura ran away together on General Hospital.

I remember a rumor that the one-calorie per can claim was a bunch of bunk. Someone in a college class said it had more calories than a can of coke and a cupcake. The class was shocked, and one slightly chunky girl

The Rockaway Times Human Resource department is having a tough time setting bathroom limits for employees. That is, we would be, if we actually had an HR department.

It seems a big stink is brewing as more and more companies struggle with determining how long is a reasonable time for employees to spend in the john.  Word from the corporate world is that too many people are working on their make-up, visiting travel websites, napping, or playing games all under cover of the stall.

Of course

I see subway officials are weighing whether or not to ban eating underground. Eeew.

I commute by bike so maybe my views are a bit parochial. But I don’t care. You are committing a high crime against human decency if you eat on the subway. It’s a crime even if it’s legal.

First off, I fall on the — we need less laws — side of things.  So I’m torn about making it illegal to eat on the subway. But it’s pretty obvious we need laws just so people aren’t friggin gross. 

Those of us who grew up

Hope you’re in the mood for a little stress.  It’s the kind of stuff I love to share.

I know a lot of you stop by this column for medical advice. Yeah, if you want to be official and all that, you can check out Ask The Doc, but I know if you follow Boyleing Points you come here for questionable advice and special-brand quackery. 

Although no one can reasonably question last week’s column about the importance of a colonoscopy, many have scoffed at my declaration that your back pain is all in

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