If you follow this blog, you know I’ve been noting the recent proliferation of stupid burglars. The latest one to catch my attention was the guy at Bath and Body Works who stole 75 bottles of body lotion. (Dry skin much?) He stuffed them all down his pants, which of course rendered him helpless to flee when a cop’s suspicions were aroused by the unusual bulges in the perp’s slacks.

(Robbery 101: when doing a B. and B.W. hit, bring a female accomplice with a poofy skirt. Plenty of space under there for a whole shelfload of products, and still room to pick up a few items at the Gap while you’re at it.)

But I just heard a rare story about a smart burglar. This guy in Poland, Stanislaw Muchy, mailed himself to businesses he wanted to plunder. His accomplice did the mailing, the thief-in-a-box was delivered, then, after employees left for the day, he busted out and robbed the place. Then he mailed himself and his loot home again.

The one stupid thing he did was to have a falling out with his accomplice, who then turned him in. (Robbery 101: be kind to your accomplice. Do not criticize their haircut or otherwise offend them.)

So that was a dumb error, but overall the thief was pretty sharp. I mean, I’m damned if I can figure out (and Google will not reveal) how the guy managed to do that last bit, re-packaging and getting himself home post-robbery. I say he gets a lot of points for thinking outside the box.

So, phew. We were just about to send 8000 Marines to Guam, but luckily Rep. Hank Johnson, who is sharp as a tack (and a Democrat, I’m proud to say), took notice of this folly and blew a hole in it. He pointed out that depositing all that Marine life on the tiny island would cause it to “tip over and capsize,” which would really mess things up.

It’s comforting to know that at least some elected officials are familiar with geology and tipping points and Marine activity and the width of Guam and so forth.

I sure as heck hope they don’t turn around and send those Marines to California. We’re already people-heavy here. Another 8000 could cause us to dip into the Pacific, and the east coast to rear up and send a bunch of damn Bostonians rolling in our direction.

Click here to check out the righteous Rep. Johnson on YouTube, engaged in the struggle to keep America (well, Guam anyway) safe.

A refreshing news story this week was the one about the two ladies who got busted at the London airport. They were boarding a plane, escorting an elderly gentleman, who was in a wheelchair and wearing shades. There was nothing out of the ordinary here except that the escortee was not just elderly—he was dead.

His lady escorts (the stepdaughter and the sixty-something widow of the 91-year-old dead guy) told the police they had thought he was merely asleep, but while the idea of sleeping thru airport security with all its indignities is appealing, it seems unlikely.

While the police try to get a grip on the real reason the two babes were traveling with a corpse, I got to thinking, who better to sit next to on a plane than a stiff? I mean, he’s not going to get up to go to the bathroom, knocking your marrtini into your lap in the process, or talk your ears off about the virtues of Michele Bachmann. He’s got no luggage, leaving you all that room in the overhead bin, and if his elbow slips into your space, you can just shove it back over to his without a heated discussion about boundaries. He won’t tap his keyboard loud as a woodpecker, or hum along with the ZZTop tunes on his iPod, or munch his way through a king-size bag of smelly salt and vinegar chips , or blow his nose every five minutes or snap his (watermelon-scented) gum.

In fact, a corpse is the world’s most desirable flying companion; why fly with the living? Next time I see a dead guy in 23A, I’m making a beeline for 23B.