Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...







Monday, November 20, 2017

The Worst Advice We've Ever Heard About Hands

Ok. The bellyaching and crybaby crap is over.

Thank the Lord!

I was getting sick of myself. If I were an Egyptian, this is what the wall around me would say about that journey of sulking madness.

𓀃𓀄𓀐𓀀𓀠𓀾𓁍𓁝

Who noticed the news? Charles Manson is dead. He was dead to me anyway. 😈😈I said that like a drama queen. He was impressionable to some crazy young kids back in the day. I did a paper on him once in high school and followed the stories out of curiosity. I came to the conclusion long ago, that he was just nuts and nutted off much like the mass shooters of today. The difference is he is not as disconnected with the world like a blank page, but has some personality. I don't know if that even makes any sense.

Overheard some peeps at the university rant over guns. They said they could not state one good reason to have them and all needed to be banned. I really need to go back to my Wyoming. Like pronto. Live in the woods, in the mountains, in a small cabin, next to no one.

I like differences. I embrace them.

Except California thinking. I believe it is taking over the country. Californication. It's scary. At first, I thought it was a fun porn thing. But then I figured it out. I'm slow. They were supposed to  secede from the union. Instead, they are infiltrating and slowly taking over. Although, I believe these were Indiana natives.

I have to remember a university is never like the rest of the world, but they are teaching everyone for the rest of the world. DO YOU SEE THE PROBLEM HERE?

It just makes me acquire more ammo.

So this week is the start of the feasts, friends, and family events I used to respond to in blue. How many families can say they had the cops over for Thanksgiving or Christmas? Huh?

Such an honor.

Try harder this year to NOT to do that.
When cops resort to being firemen.
After all, those cops have such a bad name right now.  They might come in all guns-a-blazing or something. Not really. Well, maybe. If you're one of THOSE kinds of families.

Don't be one of those.

Don't be a fireman either.

Since the world is changing and full of reformation, things have been coming out of the woodwork. Hollyweird is now living up to its odd and strange reputation. New shows are appearing in the mornings right before the soaps. A few of them are called: Hollywood Gropers, FEELings with the Stars, and The Joker's Beguiled. I heard prime time was bringing in a new competition show which is currently in the works. It's going to compete with The Voice and Dancing With The Stars. It's something about 7 Things About Hands Your Boss Wants To KnoW or Why We Loved and Now Hate Hollywood Gropers(And You Should, Too!)

It's a funny world out there. and handsy. Penile dysfunction does not always mean you need viagra. 











Thursday, November 16, 2017

A college Haiku of sorts

I'm pretty sure I am losing it and reverting to high school.

I am depressed when I don't get an A.

Statistics.

It's the devil.

I will be lucky to pass.

Passing is a B.

It's a struggle.

I struggle.

Sigh.

So instead I just sit here and cry like a big fat baby.

 And feel sorry for myself.

Like a boob.

What a boob.

Suck it up, buttercup.

If I have to take this class over, I might be a monster student with deep anger issues.

Not really.

I'm not a snowflake.

But alas, I am still very sad and unhappy and angry.

It's like I'm a snowflake inside.

I think I'm going to go find Hillary.

I will  ask for her connections to "give me a pass" in this course.

Please.

Just this one time.

Maybe next semester too.

Second course in statistics.

I just got inducted to Golden Key Honors Society.


It is comprised of the top 15% of the university.

But it might be short lived only to dive below the mark a semester later.

This is not a Haiku.

The words are all wrong.

But a sad, sad college story.

From an adult, non-traditional student's standpoint.

Most young ones would have just shot up the place.

Instead, I'm going to seek out Hillary and ask for help.

Wait.

Is she even relevant anymore?

Humor.

I still have some.

College life.

Chirp.

Chirp.

Monday, November 13, 2017

A Constitutional Right? The Cops Smash Out Freedom of Expression

Greetings, friends and foes!

My latest article on Law Enforcement Today for your perusal. I thought it was a little snarky, but it did not generate much traffic. We did have some fairly good discussion on a LEO private page with it.

Today on The Boogie Man FB page, I posted some nice peace and love memes. Spread kindness. Like jam. Why? Because it is easier to spread jam than jelly. NO! Because it's free. And it makes the world go around.

I have unplugged from news the last few days. I tried to catch up today and found it was about the same as when I left off. So, therefore, I think I missed nothing. But here is a meme which sums up my thoughts on college campuses right now, including mine.

THIS should not be tolerated. For reals. It is whacked.

You are only safe if you are a liberal speaker. What happened to this world?

When they invite extremists like Bill Ayers speak without redemption but not a conservative extremist like Ann Coulters, I find it very ironic. Now, I don't really care for either one of those persons, but I do not understand why there is a difference in policy and protection of free speech.
It kind of reminds me of this free speech or free expression I squashed while on patrol...

A little throwback funny for you today...see if you can recognize the sarcasm in my mind when I wrote this. Oh, and yes, these wer not politically correct times nor was I always "appropriate", but I was real. 

Picture of actual hooker I ran into...KIDDING! Well, maybe


Running code to yet another family fight, I heard a call come over the radio.

A dispatcher off duty was following a car with 3 men wearing bandannas over their faces.

Not strange if you are riding a horse in a dusty storm...or in 1870 robbing a bank. Or even normal attire on Halloween. But this was in the middle of the week on a hot August night. I did not recall any insurgence of bandits coming into town or even a new gang.

Picture this: the backseat passenger was holding his hand over a girl's mouth and she was screaming. Several calls started streaming into the 911 center as other citizens reported the strange group. Naturally, a bazillion  three cop cars started hauling ass toward the direction of travel. Soon, it was a cat and mouse game.

Thinking I was missing out on one of the local high school's theater group pranks (complacency and doubt giving me preconceived notions), I skeedaddled to my family fight and dealt with it as fast as I could wrap up a domestic argument.

Afterwards, the bandidos were still on the loose but the PoPo finally pulled in behind them and had pulled them over without incident.

Rookie. Training Opportunity. Or as we like to call them RTOs or "meat" calls.

Lepreshawn thought this would be great training for a felony stop for Lunch Money, my rookie. Although the heat of the stop was over, there was still an investigation to be done.

I wandered their direction and with a glance and some inside knowledge. I observed the yahoos in the car were 3 young men, currently on probation, who had become frequent flyers in the course of their childhood. They were familiar. I recognized them. They were gangsta wannabes with no real ghetto experience. After the fake guns were put away, we identified the "brilliant mob boss", Max.

MAX: Hi, officers. Just joking! We thought it would be funny to ride around with bandanas and pretend we kidnapped someone.

ME: Where did you figure that was a good idea? Out of a Cracker Jacks box?

Scha-wing! You just landed yourself the attention of the entire city. And we have all day. Idiots.

Strangely enough, the car smelled like weed. The kids smelled like weed. Must be weed. Sure enough. Lepreshawn found weed.

And so...gangsta wannabes became gangsta wannabes with weed tickets. We might turn them into real criminals after all.

ME: You might just want to tie those bandanas around your neck next time. Use them as a necklace or as a tourniquet. Just an idea.

MAX: What's a tourniquet?

ME: A really tight necklace.  You can't be a gangsta if you don't know what that is. Just sayin'.

MAX:  We are. There are gangs. You don't know what we are capable of.

ME: I know you are capable of being the only people in the city dumb enough to ride around looking for the PoPo to pull you over with guns and to turn yourselves in for weed.

MAX: We didn't do that.

ME: Really? Aren't those weed tickets in your hand? And don't I have your weed? And didn't you do some crazy shit to flag us down?

MAX: *blink*blink*

ME: Oh, and tell your probation officer hello. I expect that revocation warrant to be out next week.