My friend Kelly likes to rant. I know that sounds odd coming from me given the average content of my blog. But my rants go online for the world to ignore. Kelley's are e-mailed out to a handful of friends to ignore. I consider mine publishing, while his are just desperate cries for attention. (Not that mine AREN'T desperate cries for attention...but geez, I gotta make a distinction if for no other reason than my own ego demands it.)
Anyway, Kelly's rants are the usual garden variety annoyances: how come no one writes any good music anymore? (an ongoing diatribe), punk kids stole my clothes from the laundromat (that lasted a few weeks and produced a manifesto), will this rash EVER go away? (The consensus seems to be "No, it won't.") But every so often one of his rants slips through the cracks, transcends his petty grievances and is REALLY funny. Such was the case when I got to my inbox today. Here is his latest e-mail:
'I’m not a lawyer, but wouldn’t the clear-cut definition of a “flight risk” be:
A diaper wearing, BB gun tote’n, love-scorned astro-nut?
“Your honor, if it pleases the court, the state is asking the defendant be remanded, we feel she is a good candidate to skip bail and leave the planet.”
If we can’t extradite a murder suspect from France, how are we supposed to get her back if she goes into orbit?
Plus, if she is in jail, you’ll have to keep an eye on her at all times: she can make a shiv out of duct tape.
Please note I did not cheapen this with the “depends” pun. I’ll leave that to Leno. '
Thank you, Kelly's here all week. Try the veal. Don't forget to tip the wait staff! GOOD NIGHT EVERYBODY!
Labels: Astronaut, Guest Writer, Kelly
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