Monday, July 07, 2008





Remy just stole my handcuff key.

Clever boy.

But more importantly, he brought it back.

Yes, I am teaching my nephews how to bust me out of state and federal holding facilities. Why else do people have children?

This is a fairly easy lesson. I say "Gee officer, can I just give my nephews a hug before you haul me off?" Remy will slip me the handcuff key, and Ender will slip me the bacon grease.

Then when the police open the door of the squad car, I'll leap out completely naked and covered in bacon grease and I will run like the wind. There's nary a law enforcement agency in history that's been able to catch a greased Gurg.

If they shoot me that doesn't count. If they tazer me that's partial credit. If they set a maiden with red hair in a tranquil glade and catch me like a unicorn, that's extra credit.

Bean-bag shotguns and stun grenades are allowed, but non-lethal force probably won't be an issue since I'll likely be dealing with the Phoenix Police Department. If Sheriff Joe gets his way, their motto will go from "To Serve And Protect" to "If It's Brown, Shoot It Down".

Which is a little mean. I'm much more partial to "Kill 'Em All And Let Immigration Sort It Out", but I can see how that would be difficult to fit onto a badge.

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