Thursday, January 8, 2009

A Weighty Matter

Sitting here in Starbucks next to three cops who must each weigh close to 300 pounds. I'm wondering how they would catch a thief on the run, unless maybe he slowed down to give them a sporting chance. I'm not feeling all that safe just now as a Portland resident.

Oh well, I guess that's what they made guns for. Run all ya want, sucka! Yer not gonna outrun my .45!

But as the apostle Paul once observed, if one is obedient to the powers that be, one has nothing to fear from them.

It seems like Paul had something to say for every occasion. He is always slipping into my posts somehow. Stealthy little bugger. I wish I had half his charisma.

On the other hand, even if I had the charisma, it would soon fall through the holes in my brain, or become otherwise crippled by MS, so I suppose I had best leave the charisma to people who can make good use of it.

Has anyone guessed yet that I have nothing whatsoever to say this morning?

Oh well ... I believe I'll just go home, take a few pills, and polish my cane or something.

(Oh, Mamdouh is back. Sort of. He says he does not want to move away after all. He says he wants to stay with his family, i.e., us. That, I think, was on the 2nd of January. We have not seen him since. The mystery continues).

Peace out.

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