Wednesday, February 20, 2013


Last week I sold one of my Land Rovers.  I went back and forth in my head about selling.  Do I sell it, do I keep it.  Do I sell it, etc, etc.  Finally I threw a number at the buyer that I figured there was no way that would meet and of course then said fine.  I was pissed, but what can you do?  My brother said the whole situation reminded him of a great exchange in the movie Heaven Can Wait.

Former owner: He got my team. The son of a bitch got my team. 
Advisor to former owner: What kind of pressure did he use, Milt? 
Former owner: All I asked was sixty-seven million, and he said "okay." 
Advisor to former owner: Ruthless bastard. 

Bastard indeed!

You will be missed!

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