Who do you love? Your truck, your money, the British Army, what's left of it, the ritual of the Mass itself?, the idea of Rhodesia and the Selous Scouts? How very awesome, until it isn't.
I tell you, readers, there's no luggage rack on the back of a hearse; so store up treasure in heaven, strive for eternal value. Which reminds me of all these young brokers in London, back in the day, "Value!" they'd shout, while hoisting yet another champagne bottle before they got busted for *dealing.
Your Old Pal,
LSP