And Asbo Was His Name, Oh

I went to Mitcham (a little over an hour away via a tube, a train, and a tram) this afternoon and walked around for a couple hours. And now I'm back. It wasn't very thrilling at all.

It was supposed to be for inspiration, to find an angle to turn this little blurb into a story for school, but ended up mainly perspiration (which wasn't really a problem since I was wearing Mitchum — what a difference a vowell makes, eh?). I'm sure it's a lovely little community. It's just that every time a dog barked, I got a little nervous.

I was hoping to find a little memorial, or at least a cracked-out woman walking around wearing a black armband that had "ASBO" bedazzled on it. I got bupkis.

Yeah, so when I got the blurb on Tuesday night I thought, "Ha, I'll name the dog Asbo."

Turns out, that was its name. A self-fulfilling prophecy to be sure. Had she been more clever, the owner would have named her little pit bull "Valium", or "Lude", or "Restraining Order", or "Please Don't Eat the Babies."

Fortunately, no humans were killed during the making of this news item. As for dogs, well ... notsomuch.