The Off Register — Issue #4, July 8, 2026

ITEM! Word's getting around the container garden that this whole operation might be getting a new name by Sunday. Nobody consulted the guy who's been out here every morning at six a.m. hosing peppermint oil onto every leaf in a ten-block radius like some kind of deranged aromatherapist. The aphids don't care what the masthead says. They were here before the name and they'll be here after it. Meanwhile the tomatoes are doing fine, thanks for asking, which is more than anyone can say for morale down here.

ITEM! High of 84 tomorrow. No rain expected. There. That's the report. That's always been the report — hot, then less hot, then hot again, dressed up in a different metaphor every two weeks so it looks like writing. I heard about the name change same as everybody else, which tells you exactly where Weather ranks in this operation. Eighty-four degrees. No rain. I'm out. Somebody else can stand out here and describe the sky for free.

ITEM! Starting this week: THE CURB REPORT. Ten clients, a dozen dogs, and a guy who will tell you, unprompted, that he does not need a thirteenth dog. He has said this before. He said it about a twenty-pound Schnoodle named Snowball, who was supposed to be a Tuesday-Thursday client and is now a permanent resident with opinions about the couch. There was no plan for this. There was a plan to walk him twice a week and hand him back. The plan failed immediately and has stayed failed for five years. Nobody believes him when he says “just walking” anymore.