By Al Vinikour
Surely by now readers of my columns realize that I’m nuts. Nuts in the form of wishing only the harshest punishments for individuals who tend to ruin my day. The other night I suffered a severe case of insomnia no doubt brought upon by watching SpongeBob SquarePants with my twin-grandsons, and wondering how in the name of Ralph Brown can a house burn down at the bottom of the ocean? Or why would an adult crab sell crabby patties in his restaurant? Could he actually be related to Hannibal Lecter? Finally, just exactly what is the relationship between SpongeBob and his best-friend Patrick? I’m not being judgmental; I’m just curious, that’s all.