Greetings! Welcome to this week’s Last Days Spillover Spectacular, wherein all those news items that didn’t make the cut for the print edition of Last Days get a cyber-airing here on the Slog.

As readers of the paper are aware, this week’s column is devoted entirely to Eric Cozens, AKA the man who bought the right to make himself the subject of this week’s column in the 2005 Strangercrombie Holday Gift Auction. Thus I was granted a week’s reprieve from news of weird science and terrifying threats.

But there remains a surplus to share, starting with this eyewitness sighting reported by Hot Tipper Maria, who was driving her son to kindergarten last Thursday morning when, at a Lake City Way stoplight, she witnessed a wondrous collision of multi-taskmastering and medical necessity:

“To my right, I noticed an agitated driver on a cell phone, also waiting for her light to change. Suddenly the door of her dark green Jeep Cherokee flew open, and she vomited, copiously and violently, several times onto the pavement. Her green light arrived and she quickly resumed driving and talking on her phone, swerving past us uphill on 115th.”

Considering the time of day, Last Days initially suspects morning sickness. But considering the woman’s matter-of-fact method of ralphing—not even hanging up her phone!—it’s possible today’s compunction-free puker is a can-do business woman hanging tough through the ravages of chemotherapy. Either way, it’s a sight Hot Tipper Maria won’t soon forget. “My son, secure in his booster seat, was disappointed that he missed seeing the technicolor yawn and hopes he will get to see someone puke publicly soon,” writes Maria. “With all of this Seahawks crap, he will probably get his wish.”

Speaking of people getting their wishes, the aforementioned purchaser of this week’s Last Days, Mr. Eric Cozens, was nice enough to answer a small handful of questions I threw at him, only to have the Q&A segment miss the cut for the final column. But here they are for you now:

What song will play at your funeral?
“‘My Way,’ by Sinatra.”
What’s your astrological sign? Does this question attract or repel you?
“Scorpio. I’ll leave it at that.”
What’s worse—bad art or child abuse?
“Bad art goes away with time, child abuse is repeated over and over.” [Columnist’s note: This is a most impressive answer.]

Speaking of child abuse: I’m sure there was plenty of it this week, but thanks to Eric Cozens, I didn’t have to read about any of it. In lieu of Last Days’ signature spin on tales of diabolical child abuse, please enjoy this. Performed by some very young Olsen twins, it could very well be the Last Days theme song. (Most perversely, listening to this song actually makes me want to start abusing children—two in particular…)

See you next week.