You Can't Always Get What You Wah-ahnt!

Let's all sing a chorus with Mick and the boys in (dis)honor of America's biggest geriatric criminal crybaby.

According to an article in the Boston Globe this morning, (and you can take it for what it's worth because I certainly didn't fact-check it),  Whitey Bulger's main goal in life, once he stopped racking up body count, was to remain at large forever.  "At large" is such an odd term when it refers to a moral midget like the Bulge,  especially since he was living anything but large holed up in California, where he was playing tightwad by stretching cheap tube socks over soda bottles to stretch them out. (Either that or developing some kind of Molotov cocktail for his own personal Ragnarok.)

D'ya see what this Bulger fella is whinin' about now?

At any rate, his desired endgame, when he felt that death was near, was to head to Arizona and crawl into an abandoned mine where he would curl up, die, and remain hidden forever.  Cue up the 1930's gangster voice:  You'll never take me alive, copper.

Well, tough luck, boyo! You'll just have to settle for life in the can--that would be the "But if you try sometimes well you just might find/You get what you need" portion of your program-- and the rest of us can head into the holidays thinking about some other kinds of turkeys.

Chain Gang Geezers

Inspired by some scintillating local news, I'm publishing some more crime of my tips for seniors to follow up on a previous post:  Chain Gang Grannies.

While the carnival of the Whitey Bulger trial continues down at the Federal Courthouse, it's the sideshow that is the more exciting at the moment with the revelation that "Stippo" Rakes did not commit suicide because he was despondent over being deprived of a chance to carry out his bucket list goal of testifying against the Whitester.  He did not commit suicide at all but was alledgedly given a cyanide iced coffee by his old buddy-boy and dead-beat debtor, William Camuti.

Camuti, aged 69, seems to have dropped some enormous electronic bread crumbs as to his doings, which led to his arrest.

Herewith, some additional tips for felonious fogeys.

1. Remember that the Internet may be invisible but it is eternal. 

Okay, Gramps, you went down to adult ed where some whippersnapper taught you how to find out useful stuff on the internet. Guess you bunked class the day they covered that pesky history trail that keeps a record of sites you surfed.  No wonder you're shocked that some other whippersnapper will then be able to find out that in between trolling for "adult entertainment" and checking up on the Red Sox you were Googling cyanide poisoning for fun and profit. 

2. Trust people if you must, but under no circumstances trust your devices.

Forget NSA, your GPS knows where you've been.

All those handy little electronic slaves who keep you on track, tell you when to take your Metamucil, and remind you to buy a birthday card for your bookie? The ones who talk to you, whistle at you, and answer your every question? They are little blabbermouths, without conscience and without fear, and they will rat you out much faster than a crooked cop or a jilted dame.

3.  Know your beverages.


Here's one thing Camuti got right: chain restaurant iced coffee is so vile that it makes a practical delivery system for  poison. 

Rich, bold flavor, indeed.