So a rather famous, Irish band is playing at the Oakland Arena this
week. Turns out someone in the band, who is also quite famous, does
some of the same kind of stuff that goes on in my office. Although,
we don’t generally wear sunglasses.

But, you know, with shit like ethics still extant in the world (yeah,
I know, hard to believe), ain’t no one here going. Boo hoo.
Especially for me (even though I wasn’t actually on the ticket list.)
Boo hoo for my proximity to fame.

In completed unrelated news, other than in a sense of dogooder
happiness, I’m mildly obsessed currently with “Perverted Justice”
and MSNBC and this ongoing story.
Don’t get me wrong, I will go out on that obscure little limb and
state unequivocally, I am wicked anti-pedophilia. Yup, diddling the
kiddies is a big moral black hole in my personal philosophy. I’m
against it.

Still and all, sting operations in which creepy guys are invited to
bring beer and drop by my lonely, alledged, left at home alone
13-year-old lair are almost as creepy as the guys themselves. Imagine
the fright of Chris Hansen, a microphone and a camera in your face.=20
That can’t be good can it?

As sick and dangerous as your neighborhood predator might be, I’m not
sure high-profile vigilante fun for the rolling cameras is a panacea.