Criminals Aren't Smart Sometimes.

Last weekend was somewhat disorienting for me. I guess it was the extra day but really the whole weekend seemed strange. It really feels like it was much longer than three days. Probably because I had a horrendous hangover on Sunday. You know the kind of day when you’re really hung over and you don’t get out of bed until the late afternoon, but that later that night you’re feeling better so you end up doing something and it feels like it was two separate days? That was my whole weekend I think. As a result it’s really thrown me off my blog game. I’m out of sorts. It’s a combination of things: I can’t think of anything to write, I don’t feel like writing about things I could write about (like how I went Maryland State Fair on Friday and it was the trashiest most awful/awesome thing I’ve ever seen, really I highly recommend it), and I don’t really know what day it is.

I decided to troll around my usually news sites this morning to see if there was anything I felt the need to comment on. Luciano Pavarotti died; I figured I could write something funny about that. You know, something along the lines of: What a shocker, didn’t see that one coming blah blah blah. Make a joke about cannolis or meat sauce or something. Basically the standard Pavarotti is fat joke. Then I saw he actually died of pancreatic cancer, not something related to his morbid obesity. Also it’s in poor taste and not that funny to make fun of dead people. Or fat people. Especially internationally beloved dead, fat people. I’m a dick.

I thought I might just give up. Put up a TWSSF post tomorrow and call it a week. Then I ran across this gem. A man shot himself in the leg fleeing the scene of a robbery inside RFK stadium. There are just so many great parts of this story. Apparently when security half-assedly (it’s a word) waves those wands around my crotch their doing absolutely nothing to ensure my safety because this dude didn’t seem to have a problem getting a gun past them. Clearly he isn’t some criminal mastermind who devised an ingenious scheme to get a gun on the premises for the sake of a robbery because he attempted to rob a vendor ON THE FIFTH FLOOR. Seriously, the top floor of the stadium is where you decide to stage this daring raid? Not the first floor so you can run right outside and get away. Not to mention that’s the upper deck. Where the poor people sit. Who’s buying more $9 personal pizzas; the people fighting a nose bleed a mile high in the bleachers or the people in the box seats? I’ll grant you one reprieve, there’s probably less security on that floor, but you still have to run past the security on all the other floors. Although based on their previously stated wanding skills it’s probably not shocking that you managed to make it outside before they caught you. Maybe you thought this out better than I thought robber. I just wish I was there to see the chase. Imagine how hilarious it was watching them wind back and forth down those ramps. It’s like a high speed chase down a spiral staircase.

Now about the gun. Clearly the plan was to ditch it when you were outside the stadium. My advice to you sir, ditch it before shooting yourself in the leg. Running is hard with a gunshot wound.

Here’s another query I have: why travel from Baltimore to robbed a stadium in D.C.? There’s a stadium in Baltimore as well. I’ve been there, it’s nice. Also, you know those security guards they have at RFK pretending to care if you bring a gun in? Well they don’t even have those in Baltimore. Its fool proof, not even the slightest chance getting caught before you pull off the robbery. Plus instead of hopping fences and shooting yourself in the leg you could just run home, kick your feet up, and count your money. All in all I’d say that was a pretty awful plan. My favorite part of this article though was the last sentence. Thanks for mentioning the Nats won, that’s just icing on the cake.