Stalker Saturday.  Amateur night.  The small-timers emerge on the weekend, as I have previously mentioned.

But they no longer stalk my back fence.  I put the fear of God into them long ago.

Things are relatively peaceful around here, but I always expect that to change in an instant.  They ran a shill at me last week, but he failed. Besides being fucking slimeball thieves and burglars, failing seems to be what they do best.

Locked and loaded, and waiting for the next shoe to drop.

I am a fierce old man.

Bring it on.