Well, that was quick

Not even 11 days, and my new car's been hit.

In a parking lot, other driver identified (though if she hadn't been lurking around looking sketchy enough for me to get suspicious, I bet she totally would have let me drive away without a word), nobody hurt (except her feelings when the cop went to talk to her, because she has upcoming surgery; her apparent drug haze was undented), minor damage in the grand scheme of things (but deep scraping to two separate panels and I hope her insurance soaks her for it).

Just ... damn it.

THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.

Mercy, mercy me

Dear writers of modern, western-world police procedurals:

No, it doesn't sound like the victim is pleading for mercy. It doesn't sound like the victim is talking about their assailant's lack of (or possession of) mercy. It sincerely doesn't.

It sounds like the victim is talking about or to someone named Mercy, or talking about or to someone named Marcy, or talking about Mercy General, or spotting a Mercedes Benz, or hell, deliriously singing "Mercy Street" ... but when you have your detective musing that "It sounds like he's begging for mercy," for example, we in the audience simply roll our eyes, because we all know that's completely wrong and we know we'll be wasting entirely too much time on that foolishness.

Quit it.

And "Castle" and "Criminal Minds", since you've both tried to pull that nonsense recently, you are both On Notice. Try to pull it again ... and I will have no mercy.

Okay, okay, that just means I'll make a snarky post about it. Still.