Smokey Mountain Breakdown

I really hate it when life imitates art. Particularly my art.

So, Betsy calls this morning from the road to tell me a porn shop had been broken into off Chapman Highway. Door smashed in. Thing is, I'd already written the getaway in the Krispy Kreme truck last year when that nutter in Michigan took off in one, spilling donuts all over the highway.

I'm pretty deep into another short story that's pretty gruesome and playful. I like combining playful with things playful doesn't normally go with. I think that's what I love so much about Tarantino's work--that he so damn playful with violence. Really dreadful stuff that makes you feel a bit guilty for liking it so much.

Anyway, I thought I'd give you the Newport Plain Talk's most wonderful police blotter headline for yesterday. I'm not linking to them because I think they make him back off the plays on language if he draws too much attention. And then I'm forced to read boring blotter headlines any old hack could come up with. It's like, the high spot of my day--the police blotter headlines. I have a huge crush on Caleb Abramson. I could just listen to him write puns all day long. But you guys know how to google.

Are you ready? Here it is:

Boogertown juvenile picked off roadway

I can't make this stuff up.