A while ago I wrote about The Imp of Perversity and The Inner Editor, the voices that live in my head.I blame the Imp for the following incidents: 

1. A visitor to our home (sweet but not the sharpest knife in the drawer) admired the small teapot Mr. Logo purchased for me in Hong Kong and asked what the writing meant, she did not recognize the rather famous Chinese characters; Love, Joy, Luck so I took the opportunity to inform her that it said,“Death to the foreign white-devils.”  

2. Thing One’s little league coach delivered a 15 minute soliloquy and THEN told us he has written down some of the league rules we needed to be aware of and pulled several sheets crumpled and wadded paper from his pocket. As he flattened and attempted to decipher the writing I said,

“Let me guess, no steroids?”