Best laid pl*ns

So, for once, the government had a plan. It seems to be a highly convoluted day-late, dollar-short typical government kind of plan that could not quite catch up with the honeymooning dude determined not to let the federal docs isolate the highly drug resistant strain of TB that he apparently harbors in his globe-trotting lungs, but, finally! the message was sent out to the Border Patrol. Stop him! Isolate him! Don protective gear! And what happens? The agent at the Plattsburgh, NY gate shrugs his shoulders at Mr. Tan, Rested, and Potentially Fatally Infectious and let him pass right through because he "did not look sick."

It is to laugh. And to point out from upon my dying horse that while winging it may bring one crashing down, so, more often than not, will a pl*n, especially if one cannot implement the whole damn thing one's own damn self.