I’m not the guy that got killed while dutifully at work.

I’m not the guy that got shot trying to defend his place of employ from robbery.

I’m not the guy that drove the getaway car for the service station robbery little over a decade ago. What a mess that was; all over the news . . . blood everywhere.

I’m also not the guy that got busted by the cops shortly thereafter, which in turn, and conveniently so, makes me the guy who isn’t awaiting execution tomorrow night.

You see, I’m the guy sitting on a beach, typing up this little “incriminating” story.

Worried? No. Not me. I’m not the guy that frets endlessly. I’m the exception to the rule. I’m the guy for whom crime pays. The one who gets away with murder, figuratively, as well as literally.

How? Well you see, I’m also the guy who now, after having amassed a very large sum of ill gotten gains, can pay for the blind eye of justice to look the other way.

Why? I’m the guy the world needs. I provide balance. A necessary evil if you will. Sleep well. I do.