Those Aren't My Pants: My Favorite Criminal

So, it has been an 87.5 hour week, haven't done that in a long time. With all that time spent around inmates it gives you plenty of time to ponder who might be your favorite. We all have a category we enjoy more than others, and all of us enjoy a good drunk combative, especially the college kids. They walk in, drunk out of their gourd, explaining how we're violating their rights as he or she learned them in their criminal justice, and have yet to grasp that fake ID and a criminal impersonation charge might negatively effect their future career with the FBI or DEA.

Of course, there is always the frequent fliers, one of whom, immediately after I removed his handcuffs, pulled off his left boot and dumped an entire pint of his own urine on my booking floor. There's your dog at large arrest, iœ fishing without a license,over the limit, and the occasional inmate who acknowledges they did something wrong, want to do their time, and get on with life. It's easy to say this last group is my favorite, but I'm still holding on to the myth of my childhood.

Ten hours into a 12.5 hour shift on the 7^th day straight, after dealing with all that the criminal world has to offer, I'm still waiting for my favorite criminal: the Hamburgler. It's 4am and I could use a cheeseburger and fries!

I supported your economic stimulus package, friggen Mayor McCheese, but as you are soft on crime, you just lost my vote.

Editor's Note: Mr. Cool must be tired, as this was his toughest post to edit. We'll save the who/whom/which discussion for later, Mr. Cool. Also, I'm struggling too--I just started my first intarsia project, and I was sailing along, when I realized six rows in that I had read the chart backwards. Now I'm trying to decide if a backwards lowercase "a" would look cool on my felted purse, or not. Sigh.