We don’t leave well enough alone. We tinker. We wonder if that bonfire could use a little accelerant. And by “a little” of course we mean, “a lot.”

So when we see Jurassic Park, we’re prone to just wave our hands and say, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah blah; velociraptors. Whoopty.” And then we’d put something really vicious in there instead.

The true Borderline Boy doesn’t keep a vicious dog, because the true Borderline Boy bites people he doesn’t like himself, and doesn’t want to lose the fun of it by subcontracting it out to a rescued pit bull mix. We keep cats, because they’ll bite their friends, too, including you, five seconds after you fed them, if you unwisely get between them and the bowl. It’s the only true sign of  a worthy adversary.