1. Cute female lifeguards. They are people, not "things" according to the semantics-obsessed prosecuting attorney.
2. My car. Even though I was obviously the one who drove it in there both times.
3. The Legendary Treasure of del Rico Alta. This is unfortunate, as I'm pretty sure our next excavation in the deep end would have turned up something considerable.
4. Endless possibilities. All possibilities end at the bottom of the pool, appropriately enough.
5. Lightbulbs. Whole or broken.
6. Pearls. Even if I take the oysters out of the can, this is not allowed.
7. That blue color. Where does it come from? The water gets in the way.
8. Corpses. It's not so much that I'm not allowed to dive for them anymore; it's just that it doesn't provide the joy it once did now that we've run out of the extra spicy barbecue sauce.
9. Love. I think they are really being nit picky on this one. Just because I can't "prove" that the relationship is mutual doesn't mean the nun didn't have feelings for me. Obviously, someone begged me - begged me, damnit - to hold her underwater for that long. I don't care if she can't respond, why would she beg if she didn't love me?
10. Coins, even though it was obvious President Washington was in danger. Pool must be run by redcoats.
Worse than that, Tim. The pool appears to be run by redkinis: A cadre of sexily-clad young lasses station themselves about its perimeter watching, always watching.
I have been keeping them under intense surveillance for weeks. I'll let you know how the situation develops.
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