Red Six

If you want snapshots, your phone is perfect, and the quality of phone cameras is improving every day. If you want to engage in "photography," then you need a DSLR. The only reason you would need a stand-alone point-and-shoot is if you don't want to deal with a DSLR and you don't want to/can't use your phone for whatever reason. Beware that P&S cameras have essentially been abandoned by manufacturers and the build quality is garbage.

The "standard" battery of FSTs consists of three. The first one is unverifiable and relies upon the judgment of the officer. The second one affords several dozen opportunities to fail. The third and final one requires a person to hold their foot up for 30 seconds. A sober person can "fail" all three tests and it would be a valid result.

A friend had his vasectomy on a Tuesday during a dead sports week. It's clear at this point that his wife's a beard. We're not sure if she knows yet.

More like reinvested his dividend. Or something.

I'm pretty sure all countries in the Western Hemisphere have constitutions. And most, if not all, were forged through military conquest and/or policies of eradicating -- or at least suppressing -- indigenous peoples. We're just better at keeping our peasants fed and happy enough to not try any funny business.

Obligatory:

Or how about releasing the cyanide capsules during a nice, warm shower?

Was he friends with TX Tow?

Those funds don't have a significantly better dividend than more broad-based funds, e.g., Total Market (VTSMX) and S&P 500 (VFINX), which give you better capital appreciation.

My freshman year, I lived in a four-person suite. By the end of the school year, five people had lived there. The first suitemate was a guy who originally was from Houston but had attended one of the boarding schools in Austin (St. Mark's? St. Andrew's? Dunno. I'm not rich.). Anyhow, after sitting in my dorm alone the first weekend, I come home Sunday evening to find this guy in JNCOs and an over-sized T-shirt chilling in the living room, the thumping sound of bass-y electronic music emanating from his bedroom. Me: So, you like electronic music. Him: Yeah. I'm really into jungle. Me (having watched AMP on MTV a couple times): Cool. I'm kind of into Wink and the Propellerheads. Him: Who? Then there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to find a cadre of similarly-attired raver kids before me, moving their hands around like they were levitating some sort of energy-ball/hackey sack. Suitemate joined the group and headed down the hallway. I didn't see him again until the next morning. He was a pretty cool guy, but the guy fell hard into the local rave scene. His still in high school girlfriend would get in fights with him, telling him to stop popping X and focus on his school (he was an engineering major who had survived the summer provisional program). On the plus side, he had a nice setup in his room -- two turntables, a mixer, what my 18-year-old self thought were badass speakers (no microphone that I recall). During the many periods which he would be absent, I would pull out Zeppelin vinyls and remix No Quarter to his downbeat drum-and-bass. On the downside, his setup would attract raver kids, who would come in and fall into a K hole on his bed for hours. He also occasionally attracted fraternity types. Once, a couple guys knocked on our door and asked for him. I was like, "He's not here... why?" They walked away laughing. "Why?" One weekend, a transient from Brooklyn whom he had befriended slept on our couch. Things came to a head near the end of the first semester. He exchanged an apparently large sum of money for an envelope full of purported drugs. However, once he opened it, there was nothing inside but rave handbills. He was gone not long after that. We came back from Christmas break to find a new suitemate in raver guy's place. If raver guy was weird because of the company he kept, the new guy was weird because he kept no company. He was a 17-year-old, early high school graduate. He was the son of Polish immigrants, and his father was a college professor. He had been at UT since the fall. So why was he moving into our off-campus dorm halfway through the year? Well, he had some coke, and his ROTC roommate at Jester narc-ed on him. He was kicked out of Jester and told to stay away from there unless he had classes in the building. He also was barred from on-campus housing. He was skinny and ugly and socially awkward. He was fanatically into Pink Floyd. He would jerk off into a condom in the shower, then leave the condom in there. He would talk to the other suitemate's little sister on AIM when he wasn't hanging out on IRC. He would go to McDonald's and order a McFlurry with no mix-in. He had no friends, and when he wasn't at class, he would be in our dorm. And his drug of choice was cough syrup. He would go to the CVS on the drag and bring home bottles of Robitussin. He would chug the stuff, puke, then chill on his robo-trip. He talked about dosages and plateaus, always pushing himself to see more colors or whatever. About halfway through the semester, he finally began to socialize with us a little more and open up. He would watch South Park with us, smoke pot with us, even sit with one of us in the cafeteria. If he saw one of us on campus, he would say "hi," and maybe even start a conversation. Granted, his conversations were usually about how stupid everyone else was, but it was more than he would share at the beginning of the semester. Then, one night, my other suitemate brought home a bag of 'shrooms. Never have I seen a hallucinogen so thoroughly ignite and incinerate a man's super-ego and ego to reveal the primal id that dwells inside. Somewhere I still have the notes from our conversation that night (I was a journalism major, so I always had reporter notebooks laying around). We discovered that his father was cruel, manipulative, and emotionally abusive. If he didn't perform to a level that was essentially perfection, his father would basically turn him into a prisoner of the home and destroy personal items such as his television. Everything about him began to make sense -- the inability to form human relationships, the desire to escape reality, the subtle rebellion of drug use. By the end of the semester, it would be fair to say he was friends with us, and we were probably his only friends on campus. He stayed around for his sophomore year, then eventually moved back to the Metroplex and finished his degree at UNT. A few years ago, I looked him up on Facebook, and he wasn't on there. So I Googled his name. The top result was his obituary from 2011.

Increasing property tax and insurance would seem to be a significant variable cost.

Get out the Map

Were algos responsible for the XIV implosion? I thought it had to do with the fund not rebalancing until after closing or something similar related to its structure.

So you could miss out on what is still a healthy YTD gain?

I was left alone Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and most of Monday. I got ditched for HH yesterday (Tuesday). The chores were my decision. A very, very bad decision.

Got it done on Friday. I figured I always get kicked in the nuts watching the Texas-OU game anyhow, so why not? They gave me a Valium beforehand. Melted away enough inhibitions/anxiety for me to drop my drawers as soon as the nurse asked me to. Doctor came in, used some needleless anesthesia injector, and went to work. A couple of Duran Duran and Depeche Mode songs later (apparently he really likes 80s music), all done. Kids brought me a card and "get well soon" balloon, and the doctor gave me an ice pack to slip in my pants. #winning. Recovery wasn't bad at all. I sat in bed or on the couch for most of the weekend, icing my crotch and popping Tramadol. Pain wasn't too bad. Basically, it felt like you would think it would feel like if someone severs a sensitive part of your body. By yesterday, I was feeling good. So good that I swapped out the headlamps on my wife's car. Then did some dishes. Then gave the kids a bath. This included lifting the younger one in and out of the tub. Yeah, don't do that. I texted my wife at her happy hour and I was like, "I think one of my balls is swelling up." By the time she got home, the kids were running roughshod over the living room and I was in bed with an ice pack in my pants and my bottle of Tramadol in reach. I basically didn't move from there until I woke up. After walking to and from the bathroom, I fell back into the bed with excruciating nut pain. I have taken a few memorable 'nad shots in my life -- baseball, a girl punching me, my toddler daughter kicking her legs at church during communion, causing me to collapse in a heap at the altar -- and this was as bad as any one of them. So now I'm at work, canceling tomorrow's appointments, and keeping my meds close at hand (the doctor was nice enough to give me 40 Tramadol). The moral of the story: The procedure itself isn't bad, and recovery isn't bad either, until you push yourself too hard and too fast. Then you'll be lying in bed biting a pillow but utionalizing your decision when your kids are in the next room being assholes to each other.

I'm surmising here because I don't want to dig through all the information sources, but the marijuana was found pursuant to search warrant, and search warrant returns become part of a court record. Notice I didn't say "the" court record, because the search warrant is returned to whomever issued it -- so if a Dallas muni judge issued it, it goes back to Dallas Municipal Court, if a Dallas County district court judge issued it, it returns to the district judge, etc. Sometimes it will be on file with the criminal case, but most of the time it won't because search warrants typically issue before a court has jurisdiction under indictment. At any rate, it is accessible short of a judge's sealing it, which is extraordinary and rarely happens. But what about the 9-1-1 call? Isn't that a "public record"? Yes. However, until it is placed in evidence in court, it is not necessarily accessible. Release of this information is governed under the Texas Public Information Act (TPIA). The TPIA has myriad exceptions for release. Some items are confidential by law, and others can be withheld if the agency wishes to do so. The law enforcement exception permits an agency to not release information that is related to the investigation or detection of a crime. That information is not confidential, which mandates withholding; it is an exception, which is discretionary with the agency. The 9-1-1 call in this case is likely related to an ongoing investigation. The agency that holds it can release it or withhold it, subject to the ruling of the AG. But 9-1-1 calls often are released soon after an alleged, high-profile crime is committed. So why is the agency refusing to release the 9-1-1 call in this case? <shoulder shrug emoji>

One-hundred thousand dollars is wealth that needs preserving in an index fund. One-thousand dollars that you are not going to continue feeding is YOLO money. Pick an up-and-coming stock like Square (for example) and put it all on black. You could come out with $500,000 in 20 years, or it could be worth $0. I am still kicking myself for not dropping some money I had into Netflix or Google 15 years ago. I also was considering Sirius at the time, which would have panned out, but not nearly as well. My YOLO money is on Shopify right now, FWIW. Disclaimer: I have no idea what I'm doing.

J. F. C. Murder in Texas is defined in the Texas Penal Code, not common law. Mens reas in Texas are defined in the Texas Penal Code. They are generally Intentional, Knowing, Reckless, and Negligent. Insanity is an affirmative defense. It doesn't expressly negate the mens rea of intent or knowledge, but it absolves the defendant of criminal liability. The person still commits murder. Self-defense in Texas is a defense (not an affirmative defense, despite what your civil lawyer friends try to tell you) of confession and avoidance. The defendant admits to the relevant mens rea and actus reus, but, again, is absolved of criminal liability. I am not going to dig through the Penal Code right now, but administering a capital sentence and pulling the plug are presumably protected acts either by defense or affirmative defense. In sum, yes, in your examples, murder has been committed, but there is a legal excuse for commission.

They usually try to hit you with the most serious charge, then use that as leverage in negotiations. The facts here support murder. A Dallas city councilman tweeted that they tried to get a manslaughter warrant from a Dallas judge (unclear as to whether municipal or county), but the judge wouldn't sign for that charge; the judge said that the offense was murder. I'm wondering if the Rangers didn't judge shop to Mesquite or Seagoville, and that's why she ended up in the Kaufman County jail.

If the roles were reversed -- black man entering the wrong apartment, shooting a white cop sitting around in her underwear -- no doubt he would be held with no bond for capital murder right now. Capital murder requires intentional or knowing murder during the commission of, e.g., burglary. Burglary under S 30.02(a)(3) requires entry without the effective consent of the owner and, during entry, commission of a felony. Brief Googling indicates that CCA says the murder can be the predicate felony for the burglary. Did she enter without effective consent? He opened the door. He didn't say she could come in. If any part of her entered that habitation, she committed burglary when she shot and killed him. Did she commit intentional or knowing murder? Murder is a conduct-, not result-based, offense. She intentionally or knowingly pointed that gun at him and shot him. Her conduct directly resulted in his death. Maybe the delay in seeking the warrant is to ensure they have capital murder locked down. Right? Right?

You can just stop right there.

That's like 500 lifetimes of carry-forward deductions. I mean, assuming he's a prole like me whose losses are in his personal e-Trade account.

What an awful world in which we live, where Fat Wallet dies, yet Digg continues on.

Actually, this is what most studies say occurs. The best treatment for a muscle injury is rest. If/when a chiropractor fixes something, it's by accident, not design.