The punishment fits the crime:
Oh, to have a recording of the conversation in the car on the way home. You hope the kid was still capable of embarrassment. Possibly he's already such a hard case there's no amount of mortification Mom can inflict.
The bygone perfumes of fall:
Furtive burning is apparently okay. Wait - you can get a permit for open burning? How much to burn leaves? Not that I have any; I just miss the smell. Still can't figure out when Bath & Body Works doesn't come up with a candle that smells like burning leaves; it's possible the fragrance designers have no memory of the aroma. They had one called "Leaves" a few years ago, but it smelled like singed yak hair. Of all the aromas that shouldn't be hard to duplicate in a candle, which requires flame, you'd think "combustion" would be one.
If more people watched "COPS" and took notes, they wouldn't try this stuff:
That always works, because cops are never looking for furtive gestures intended to hide or dispose small, incriminating items. Sometimes I wonder if we didn't find WMD in Iraq because we didn't send in beat cops. Well here's the mustard gas, crammed down between the seat cushions in the back. And what's this, anthrax in the side panel? Smallpox in a prescription container labeled for sarin gas? Naughty, naughty.
Excuse me sir, but I'm working my way through college. Also the criminal justice system:
Once a year we get solicitors who try to sell magazines. I feel bad for some of them, because I suspect they're packed into vans by some Fagin who takes all their earnings. You can tell they're new at the sales game, because they seem to place a great deal of faith in lamination. This ID proves I'm a legitimate charity! It's laminated!
