Navigator

There was a B-17 bomber flying around the other day about noon, circling the City while I drove down Wilmington Pike. The glorious sound of propellers made me look up. You don’t hear those anymore like you did when I was a kid. If they were on their way to plaster Dusseldorf, somebody was certainly steering on the wrong compass heading. Eventually it disappeared.

Us one, scumbags zero. Two men with guns invaded a home last week on Burkhart Avenue. One of them got a silver bar and some prescription medication and the other got shot straight through the head once the resident got his hands on his own gun. Dead Fred! The other guy was traced through a pawn shop transaction and police went to his home where they found him dead inside with slashed wrists after a three hour standoff. Sorry Charlie! Two scumbags won’t do home invasions anymore. The resident got his property back. All is well in the Big City. No I am not a pussy-foot social worker.

Us one, scumbags zero, part 2. A high school kid went to the home of his girlfriend who had just broken up with him and beat her senseless, finishing off by dropping a concrete picnic table top on her. He had beaten her up once before. She is in intensive care with fractures of everything. He then deliberately walked out onto the freeway in front of a speeding car and was killed instantly. Bang! Sorry about your kid. One less person to beat up women when he’s unhappy. All is well in the Big City. No I am not a pussy-foot social worker. Ta!