This will be my final column for Enclosed Porch Monthly. These last 14 years have brought me in touch with a wide, caring and devoted community of folks whose passion for outdoors-excitement-at-a-distance is unmatched in the low-end home enhancement sector. Whether we’re anxious to keep track of disabled pets or we’re simply resentful of those unafraid to walk freely in the Sun’s boundless joy, we all prefer the safety, convenience and face-saving protection of a screened-in, vinyl-windowed porch. From the coldest corner of Maine, where they stack old newspapers and lottery tickets all around the mail slot in hopes of keeping out snow vipers, to damp, dark, mid-country Ohio, where the good folks just need a place to store their elderly, unmarried uncles that won’t...

Bart Simpson never grew up. He's stuck that way forever. No matter what happens. To eat he must kill. And he must do so with such ferocity, such certainty, that a meal is guaranteed. Absolutely guaranteed.

You're all wasting your time. None of this nonsense amounts to anything. None of it's going to make you rich, and even if it did, you'd just spend it all on mannequins and root beer. This country made a lunar landing. And now? So what? You idiots took that as permission to spend your lives selling golf courses to each other.
And take off that hat!

We're at an interesting point in American history where a good chunk of the population considers having a shared, national language to be another sign of creeping socialism. Much like public washrooms and party subs.

This scourge of infographics must be addressed. To the clip art vats. Luis! My cane!