Eating the Profit

So apparently there is a coin shortage in India caused by the razor-blade companies buying coins to make razor blades, which is having a sweet side-effect: the provision of a chocolate bar as change in lieu of a half rupee coin.

Yay barter.

Coo coo for cocoa stuffs

In Cornwall, police are searching for two men who attempted to rob a gas station, but got away with only chocolate bars.

I for one am glad to see that the police in Cornwall have their priorities straight: chocolate above all else. Clearly the aim here is either to recover the missing chocolate or to secure restitution for its loss and has nothing to do with attempted robbery. (I mean really, what's with attempted crimes? No one gets a gold at the Olympics for attempted bobsledding.)

What I want to know is what sort of chocolate bars were stolen. After all, perhaps the chocolate bars were the real target of the hold-up.

I think that the sentences given to these chocoholic shoplifters should be proportional to the type of chocolate with which they absconded. The better the chocolate bar, the lesser the sentence; I reckon that there is nothing unjust about punishing people for bad taste (clearly I'm going to do well in sentencing).

For example, if they went for the UK equivalent of Oh Henry bars, they deserve life imprisonment with a 5-7 year parole ineligibility. Anyone that really likes peanuts perverting their chocolate needs to be removed from the public because they pose a danger to society. If, on the other hand, these five-finger discount fiends were targeting toblerone bars, that should be a mitigating factor, resulting in a slap on the wrist.

Regardless, let's just hope that any judgment rendered in this case does not suggest that the lack of bonnets and crinoline at this petrol station meant that the chocolate was asking for it. After all, there were no wooden carvings.

Reflections on Remembrances

I spent Remembrance Day in a pool learning how to scuba dive.

There is definitely something surreal about standing in a semi-circle in the shallow end of the pool in full scuba gear, observing two minutes of silence with 80 other bathing suit-clad people, poppy-adorned lifeguards, and confused toddlers.