My only lame joke in life is, that I refer to love as L’oeuf, aka the egg. And whilst this post is somewhat ‘scrambled’ in its articulation, I hope it will still provide clarity as to what constitutes the perfect egg, with that golden-orange yolk, all molten and viscous, running deliciously into the shining whiteness enclosing it, oh the beauty! Let’s get started.
They burgle. They steal. It’s what they do to survive – it’s their only viable skill. So if you’re close to a burglar, you must accept this is how they are with the world. They don’t know any other way to live or to stay above the why-the-hell-do-I-wake-every-morning line.
This is their MO. They take from others and capitalize upon it. They befriend everybody, but the entire time they are staking out what they can take from them unnoticed, how often, and to what extent. They will also plan their exit well in advance and may make one final heist before disappearing, not caring if this time they are found out, as they don’t ever plan to make an appearance again.
So what on earth is a good burglar? Continue reading