For a while now, your editor has wanted to own a sled and a ruined monastery.
The other day my attorney called me and said that he'd located a teevee mogul (ha ha, there are no more teevee moguls, except that one guy) who owned a sled and a ruined monastery. We all agreed to meet in the back room of a bar.
My attorney drew up a contract on a napkin (none of us had a pen handy, so he wrote with lipstick). I purchased the sled and the monastery, but to my surprise the package came with an actual sled dog team. No sled without the sled dogs. I didn't reckon on this.
I also didn't reckon on the sled dogs being pomeranians instead of Siberian huskies. Such is life, you might say.
I've been trying to sell the pomeranian sled team for a quick profit, but so far no dice. I mean, owning the sled and the abandoned monastery has been great so far, but...you know, now that I think of it, the reason I can't sell the pomeranians is because my attorney drew up a faulty purchase contract! Yes, that's the ticket. Time to sue my lawyer. Surely this will turn out okay?
The Thrashers play the New York Rangers tonight. Go the Thrashers.