Evidence 101

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







Friday, April 21, 2017

Sometimes You Just Get A Bag Of Dicks

Sometimes police work isn't fire, death, and roses or even adrenaline rushes. Most of the time it is filled with random or strange calls to service. 

Once in a while you get a stinker of a dead body. Boy, those sure make your day go to hell in a hand basket. I guess that is what makes the job so much fun. No one wants the buzzer on the hot potato game, right? Bonk! You get the dead body, Fargo. 

Actually, that's the great thing about being an ev tech. Sorry, dudes! I gotta take pictures and log evidence. I can't help you haul that guy outta here. I have a really bad gag reflex and luckily most of the guys were super accommodating to me. I lurved their kindness. Truly. I didn't want to ever embarrass myself in front of a family. 

But there are days where shit happens. I suppose you think this post is going to be about a cool homicide or a really old stinky dead body. Nope. Not at all. It's about the random bag of dicks you get thrown sometimes. 

But a lot of patrol can be boring. Or humdrum. That's OK too. You need it to break up the great stuff. Even though you have to right mundane reports on the stuff, you never know what you are going to get...

My first day back was not unusual. After being filled in from the crew that I missed an exciting arson, assaults, a fatality or two...a rapist...and more calls on the board than cops available...I was sure to have an exciting first day.
Yep. My day was as weird and creepy as this hippo cat.

The first call as darkness fell was a possible residential burglary in progress.SUPER! Let's go get those bastards!

I got to the scene and blacked out. I was informed the reporting neighbor would meet me halfway down the street. As I approached the area on foot, I saw....

WTF?

...a short balding hairy Italian man in thin boxers with the hatch flopping open exposing Mr. Wanky. I mean, seriously? When, in his infinite wisdom, did this man think that was a good idea?

After being traumatized by a one eyed snake, the call turned out to be-you guessed it- BOGUS.

Next we received a call from another jurisdiction on a possible domestic hostage situation. BONUS! Let's go!

Finding the address where "Mr. Psycho ex-cop" may be holding his wife hostage was a crap shoot. We had to ping phones, comb old computer records, and link associates. It was more work trying to locate the crime scene than anything. On the third address to check, I was greeted by a very drunk man answering the door.

WTF?

It was a hairy Cajun man holding a pillow on Mr. Wanky. If that wasn't bad enough, sometimes when he laughed, he would use the pillow to cover his face. I would holler out "WHOA!! WHOA! PILLOW! PILLOW!" And he would smile with embarrassment and say, "OH, sorry, Ma'am."

His situation was a little more understandable because he answered the door in the early morning hours and grabbed the first article of concealment he could muster. But still, why me? He was only a new tenant living at an old known address where the suspect used to reside. He had no information.

Later, when we found the subjects, the call turned out to be-you guessed it-BOGUS!

The entire night, was turning out to be very disappointing until we had a drive by gang shootout. BONUS! Let's go!

While going to that call, I was diverted to a strange drunk man who turned up at a neighboring house.  Come on, dispatch. I want to go to the fire! But I did as I was told. Sometimes we override them, but this was a case where enough were going to the big tire fire, so to speak, so I could go to the weenie roast. As I was directed to the people's living area, I saw a very intoxicated Native American man in shorts with Mr. Wanky peeping out. Literally, a weenie roast.

WTF?


In his act of desperation in getting away from his assailant, this man ran to a nearby residence. He was a victim/suspect who appeared on the front steps of this home. You may only understand what a victim/suspect is if you are a cop. Think about it. It is exactly what it sounds like it means.

It turns out the call wasn't related to the shooting and he and his wife beat the tar out of each other at a nearby house. This was a night she won. He was the loser. In many different ways, that is.

The night drudged on with boring calls and periods of silence.

To my dismay, the entire night was filled with a bunch of weenies.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Summer Pool, Schweaty Balls, and Other Flavors

Captain's Log:

)&#$^()*#&$)@#&*($^





Current status: Frazzled from Grad School Meteor Shower


Navigational readings: Dazed and confused

Ship's course: Steadfast ahead

I think Oliver is feeling the effects as well.

So, meanwhile, I will be starting another research project, working on a final exam essay response paper, a group project, and discussion boards. Is there enough Advil and wine in this world? Just kidding. I don't write my papers under the influence.

However...here is a blast from the past about the first time bath salts started to float our way into Gotham City...


Interesting topics always pop up in briefing. For instance...we all discussed the latest craze that started with teenagers experimenting. 

And where they come up with this stuff is beyond me...but yet another product on the market that we will probably end up regulating. 

Can't anyone just use the products the way they were made and intended?

LT. KANOOK: Everyone knows of the newest thing where they are smoking the bath salts?

OFFICER BIG CHEESE: Yeah. Everyone should know they are smoking these bath salts, hallucinate like LSD, then do something crazy..usually driving into a house or something.

ME: So...I bet we can guess what the best flavor is for the biggest high.

OFFICER SAVVY: Cucumber melon?

OFFICER SHINY KEYS: I'm liking musk...no wait....sandalwood.

ME: Jasmine moonlight

CAPTAIN: Ocean breeze.

ME: Yeah. Ocean breeze has to give you the biggest high. It sounds like its from California.

LEPRESHAWN: Yeah.

THE ENGLISH: Bacon. Bacon flavor.

ME: Would that be a pun on cops? I think bacon flavor would totally be ironic.  What about Schweaty Balls? 

THE ENGLISH: Gross.

ME: What about "Boob Schweat"? "Dirty Money?"

OFFICER SHINY KEYS: Hey, Big Cheese, does it show up what flavor on the test? [laughs]

OFFICER SAVVY: Yeah...what color is their tongue...does that show what flavor?

ME: I wonder if we can tell if it is "Wet Dog" or "Sorority House Rose" or "Yankee My Wankee" or "Blueberry Bromance" and stuff. 

[laughs from the team]

BIG CHEESE: You guys are so funny. This is serious stuff.

LT. KANOOK: No seriously. It's like an epidemic with kids now. You guys need to be aware of this and take it very seriously. Call Big Cheese if you need some assistance. He was informed on the last conference and we have been seeing a lot of here already. 

ME: Yeah. Make them breathe on you so you know if you are dealing with quality brands or generic flavors. It could make a difference in their highs. 

*snork*

OFFICER SHINY KEYS: "Oh, yeah, officer...I forgot to tell you my dealer's name is Bed, Bath, and Beyond."

Yes, we amuse ourselves. 

Friday, April 7, 2017

Momster Chronicles #450984

Good morning! May you have a peaceful day full of awesome sauce! In the sweetness of friendship, let us share light, happiness, and exchange pleasures. And you, sir, are still going to be ugly in the afternoon when I am sober. Just kidding. I'm sober now.

I bet you didn't know that I just globbed a bunch of brainy quotes together for that compilation of hogwash. Well, it isn't all hogwash. I do wish good things upon all of you.

To lighten our spirits, I must share some great parenting skills. Being a cop has many advantages in parenthood. There are obvious reasons, but the best is my art of interrogation skills. The kid doesn't even know what hits her..

"Mom, I have done something that you don't know. I am not going to tell you. It's a secret that some of my friends know."

"Did you have sex?"

"What! No! I am not that kind of girl! You should be proud to have me. I have told everyone I wear a purity ring and I mean it."

"Well, that's good. I'm proud of you. I'm not ready to be a grandma. And don't ask me to take car of your kid, er..my grandchild. I am too busy trying to life myself, let alone life for you. Did you decide to go to first base?"

"Kissing? I have done that. You know. I told you."

"No, the boobs."

"Ew. Gross, mom! No! Everyone in my school knows not to touch me."

"Wow. That might be seen as a challenge to some or a lifelong spinster sentence, and maybe to the good boys...a deterrent." 

"What?"

"Never mind. Are you going to tell me you use tampons now?"

"Ugh! Mom, you know I tried them and I didn't like them. I use pads. What do I always tell you to buy at the store? Pads."

"You better not have tried pot. Have you been hanging out with potheads?"

"Mom! I don't do drugs and you know it! My friends don't either. We don't talk to those kids."

"Some kids peddle scripts to get you started on something and that is the big thing now."

"You are making me mad! I can't believe you think I would do drugs."

"Well, I know you have drank alcohol."

"That was in front of you. You gave it to me to try and I spit it out. It is nasty!"

"Well, how do I know you didn't acquire the taste or go to a party and start drinking."

"Mom. It is gross. I don't even drink pop."

*blink*blink*

"I caught you that one day you stole the car."

"I didn't steal the car. I drove it when you were gone and parked in the garage to clean it. "

"Still. That's very bad. You don't have a license."

"I have a permit."

"Not the same. End of discussion. No more of that because you will be only riding a bicycle if you break more car rules. Stealing cars is the gateway crime to robbing banks and homicide sprees. So if you are thinking about having sex, you can talk to me."

"Mom! I am not doing sex. I am waiting for marriage."

"Well, maybe we should talk about your school stuff."

"What about it? I have all my homework done."

"Well, don't be cheating on an exam for school or helping anyone cheat. You have to keep your grades up for your scholarship. And cheating will get you no where fast. It's  like worse than being Satan. Colleges won't look at you. You might be able to get a job at Burger King, though."

"Mom, I am an overachiever and I only do it myself and you know that! Stop saying bad stuff about me! It's making me mad!"

"Well, I just worry about you. I don't want you to get arrested or in trouble at school. Have you robbed a bank lately?"

"Mom! My parents are cops! I can't do anything wrong because you will know. Then my head will be through a sheet rock wall as you say."

"No. That's what I said about my childhood if I got in big trouble. But, I might repeat history if you are naughty. Genes and all. So what was it you wanted to keep secret from me?"

"Mom! I'm not going to tell you."

"Did you kill someone?"

"I am a very moral person. You don't even know your own daughter. I am done! You don't get me! I am going to go do some homework. You better learn that you are lucky to have me as a daughter. I could be a rotten kid. They are out there, you know."

[stomp, stomp]

So I called after her as she stomped away, "I don't think it is really that nefarious of a secret since I just used a process of elimination..."

I got no response.



See what I did there.

My daughter has never tried drugs nor had sex. She is still wearing her purity ring. She hasn't even gotten to the touchy stuff. In fact, I would say she is a big chicken shit when it comes to breaking norms or moral codes. She isn't using tampons which I wouldn't care if she was. She is not cheating or helping anyone cheat. She is not doing crime. She is not drinking alcohol. Although she felt guilty about moving the car without my permission, she learned her lesson.

I feel pretty good.