Tag Archives: eggs

cracking the case.

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A man has been convicted of stealing nearly 200,000 chocolate eggs, worth around £40,000 ($48,000), in what British police have dubbed an “eggs-travagent theft.” Joby Pool, 32, pleaded guilty in court on Tuesday to criminal damage and theft, West Mercia Police said in a statement.The chocolate was recovered when Pool was stopped by highway police on Saturday, the force said.

According to PA Media, prosecutor Owen Beale said: “This clearly wasn’t spur-of-the-moment offending, if I can put it like that, because he had taken with him a tractor unit and he had to know that the load was there in the first place. It’s clearly a leading role and it’s clearly significant planning.”

Pool’s solicitor John McMillan told the court: “He stopped the vehicle when he realized he was being followed. He realized that the game was up – he realized the police were behind him and pulled in when it was safe to do so. He wasn’t offering any resistance and he was then arrested. Shortly after the theft a vehicle, presumably purporting to be the Easter bunny, was stopped northbound on the M42 and a 32 year old man was arrested on suspicion of theft.”

my deep thoughts on this case:

i do love these, but one or five are generally enough to make me happy for a year.

i also love true crime and find this fascinating

i wonder why he chose cadbury chocolate eggs as his loot

(though i do admire his choice)

i wonder what would the easter bunny have done without these

i wonder if there is a thriving black market for this merch

it seems an odd crime, but then, most crime is odd by the very nature of it.  

“he who steals a little steals with the same wish as he who steals much, but with less power.”

-plato

 

source credits: ianne kolorin, london cnn, pa media

chicken or the egg?

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today, mr. roger, our snowplow driver

came back to our room

and brought some of his favorite birds to meet us

these two are chickens named marco polo and maranella

and they are married.

his granddaughter has a chicken for a pet and reads with it

and he really loves birds

even more than snowplowing.

mr. roger even showed us some of maranella’s treasures – her eggs

and we had the chance to gently touch everything and ask all kinds of questions.

it was amazing because he knew all of the answers.

he sure knows a lot about a lot.

“if I hadn’t started painting, i would have raised chickens.”

-grandma moses

when life gives you eggs, turn them into mimosas

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     it was the worst easter ever, that somehow turned into one of my best and most memorable. back in my cocktail waitress/student days, the owner of our bar decided we should be open and all work on easter. well all, except for him. he was not known for his people skills and did not care that we each had people who we’d rather be spending the holidays with waiting at home, or that no one was going to set foot in our bar on easter.

     after a couple of hours went by, with absolutely no customers of course, and hanging out and talking about how much we despised the owner for forcing us to do this, we decided to take matters into our own hands. the cook made up a mini buffet for us,  we whipped up a batch of mimosas, and headed to our upstairs balcony room, where we’d have a view of the door if anyone happened to actually wander in.

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     our d.j. put on music,

(you never know who will stop in on easter morning for a dance, so of course it was mandatory that he worked too),

turned on the tv, took off our shoes, sat around a  big table, played poker,

and watched the ten commandments together.

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we ate, and drank, and talked, and laughed, and figured the movie was our spiritual experience for the day.

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and moses looked down at us from the mountain as we upped the ante and raised a glass to him.

and i think we broke a lot of his commandments.

now that, is an easter.

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Time for work – yet take much holiday for art’s and friendship’s sake

                                                                                                                              George De Wilde