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Once, I heard this story—some chick in Vegas got paid in casino chips! True story, swear on my Duff! She’s all, “Cash me out, baby!”—hilarious, right? I’m laughin’, but then—D’oh!—I’m sad again, ‘cause it’s messy, ya know? These gals got lives, and here I am, a doofus, oglin’ ‘em. “Blessed are the forgetful,” I mutter, wishin’ I could zap this night outta my skull like Joel and Clem. Maybe I’ll stick to donuts—safer, cheaper, and Marge won’t kill me! D’oh!

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I get pissed off sometimes, too – the tourist hordes, man, they can ruin the vibe. I mean, don’t they get it? Cochem’s magic is in its subtlety! Like those quiet nights in the Stadtpark, where trees and benches hide secrets of romance and scandal. I sit there, watchin' folks, thinkin’ "I pity the fool who rushes through life without feelin’ these vibes!"

Football’s “Father of the Forward Pass” Born in Sturgeon Bay