See, if I were going to participate in a crime, any crime, I'd have a plan. An escape plan, for example. I'd nail that down first. I'd have somebody stay in the car, preferably behind the wheel, so that the rest of us could pile in and flee should our Saturday night fun be interrupted. Second, I would not turn off the engine and leave the lights on so that someone could read the license plate from fifty yards away. Third, I would not park the car with its nose pointed down a dead-end street. Fourth, I would not leave my wallet and cellphone in plain view on the front seat. I've heard that the oldest of the group attends Florida State University. Says my neighbor, a lady lawyer who graduated UF law school: "That explains it."
The trial was postponed. For the second time. That's the third time I've showed up, hung out for a few hours, and then gone home. That juvenile justice hall is a busy place.
This is about the fourth robbery I've prevented in my neighborhood simply because I keep late hours and don't think anyone else ought to. The night belongs to me, and I don't like having it disturbed.
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I took the "What Kind of Beer are You?" test, which I found at Peony's. Or TSO's. Or maybe Alicia's. Can't remember. I came out Bass Ale, one of my favorites. Perfect. Anyway, the profile says:
Personality-wise, you have refined tastes (after all, Bass is kind of expensive), but you know how to savor what you get. Your personality isn't exactly bubbly, but you're well-liked by your close circle of friends. Your sense of humor is rather dark, but that's just another way to say sophisticated, right?
Right. Uncanny.
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Speaking of Peony, she kicks ass in the comments to her Schiavo post. Chivalrous fellow that I am, I thought of helping out, but she didn't need it.
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TSO has found his niche, although I wouldn't want to be responsible for circumscribing the breadth of his interests. Just read the first one and you'll keep on going.
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There were a few more items, but I'm tired.
8 comments:
Man, you have more crime fighting adventures than many superheroes. On things certain, it's fortunate that criminals are so often dumb. Printed this post off for my wife and she's anxious, like me, to meet you.
Does that mean you might still be headed this way?
I would pay money to read what you were thinking of writing.
First time I've been offered money for what I was thinking of writing rather than the writing itself. A few more like you and I could retire without having done any work. Except for thinking, of course.
Thinking is work, of course. But, alas, the offer was money for reading what you were thinking of writing. Which would mean that you'd still have to write it, unfortunately. Or that I should just say, "Pretty please would you just go ahead and write your response to the kerfluffle?"
Oh, so it was work after all. Hmm. I'll think about it. About thinking, that is, since it's work.
So which is the more difficult work: thinking or writing? And is thinking about thinking more difficult than thinking about writing? And is this where we start getting to slap the prefix "meta" onto everything in sight?
I don't think very well unless I'm writing, because writing makes me think, which is why I don't do it very much. Thinking about thinking is no work at all. It's like looking at a landscape and saying, "I'd like to paint that."
And you can use "meta" all you want. For example, I once meta thought on its way to my brain, but my brain closed the door before I could think about what it was doing.
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