As I mentioned a few posts ago, I was operating at Ye Olde Salte Mine on equal parts of nerve, determination and caffeine. So late in the afternoon, I was just fried, and someone wanted to talk about a complex legal issue.
(By that time, a "complex legal issue" to me was anything that didn't require drooling.)
I had all I could do to concentrate and not, instead, say "well, have you tried to resolve this by doing a Dick Cheney on him" (shooting him in the face). But I didn't say it. When I was younger, I would have. Hell, I didn't have to be dead-ass tired back then to suggest that, let's not be kidding.
Time was that it would have been an Uncle Fester. If you've ever seen the 1960s Addams Family, you might recall that about every second or third episode, you could count on Uncle Fester to brandish his blunderbuss and yell: "Shoot him in the back!"
Which goes to show that Uncle Fester was the wisest gunfighter of all.
(Tolja that the blogging would tend towards meaningless)
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