Evidence 101

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







Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Blast From The Past

Everyone likes a good book. I like a variety---mix it up. And, as you might have guessed, I always like a little law and order in the mix. When I received J.E. Fishman's Blast From The Past to read, I was very excited. If you aren't familiar with the series, you should pick one up. I did not read them in order and no need to as they are all unique stories.

Photo credit: Amazon


Not only is Fishman great at details and goes where most don't-- diving into a bomb squad series, but he also consults with a cop in the field. That gets him extra kudos. His book cover reminded me of Tom Berenger. I dare you to tell me I'm crazy...look here...same shirt? Ok. Maybe a resemblance.

Photo credit: TNT's Major Crimes


This book did not disappoint. Immediately, Fishman's exceptional writing drew me into the story and captured me to the end. From the first paragraph, the book is full of fast-paced action and thrilling moments. NYPD K-9 Handler, Kieran Lehane is the main character. He is older. I like that because it gives him credibility and substance. I think he also has a little Fargo (me, not the movie) in him. He is obsessed and gets fixated on investigating and does not know when to stop. He actually goes "off the grid" sometimes and investigates on personal time because he is so dedicated and/or relentless. I'm not sure which one outweighs the other. Relentless he is. I guess that is a character trait you want in any cop, right? But, I actually felt a little sorry at times for Georgia, his canine companion and partner. I think she got tired. Maybe. I don't know. She was pretty fantastic. That's the other part...I like K-9 partners in the story. It was really fun.

The plot twists were fabulous and during the book I felt like I was along beside Lehane. All the characters were alive and full of action throughout. Fishman really understands how to portray police work from the inside and engage the reader. I was impressed with how I could relate to the story because I was a street cop and a detective--different specialties. Equally impressing is the lack of errors and fine writing skills of Fishman. He is a pro. I think this is the best book in the series so far and I have no qualms about yapping it up to anyone as a great read. In fact, it's the bomb diggety. Pun intended.

This is just my review of Blast From The Past. I have an extra treat for another post where I will share with you about the author. Keep tuned in. While you are waiting, go to Amazon and get your copy. I provided a link for you. You won't be disappointed!


Friday, November 21, 2014

The Judging Queen

It's time for some fun!

I am starting a new special random spot called, "The Judging Queen." (Sing it along with us..ABBA is in the room.) That's right! You can't get it out of your head. Mwahahahaha!

I am going to be a little snark magical. That is common sense mixed with snarky...Poof! Magical.

Things will come up in our lives in random fashion that spark our passion. This is not sexual, so carry on at home and click off.

Some random opportunities might present themselves here. Or not. I am often moody. It depends upon my mood.  Today I am in a mood.

I am going to clobber topics with my slimy, shady voice of somewhat reasonable standards.

That's right...my opinion.

If you disagree...say so. If you agree...say so.

If you are going to remain Switzerland...then act like chocolate.

                                                 Photo credit: Modification and embellishment of a photo from Pinterest.

First order of business: What is it about people never learning to respect personal space? I am in lines at the university and people get too close to me. It bugs the hell out of me. I move farther away and all be darned if they don't move closer, damn things.

Today, I had a Starbucks gift card from a health contest in the office. Got in line. Professor jumps right next to me, practically on my lap. It startled me. I was also instantly offended and frowny faced.

Is it appropriate to wave your arms radically around in the air and yell, "PERSONAL SPACE, PEOPLE! PERSONAL SPACE! I SELF DESTRUCT IN 2.3 SECONDS!" When did we start acting like sardines and lose ground. Or perhaps I need to get theatrical in the THESPIAN sense and have some jazz hands and dancing going on to clear the room. Seriously, it's squatter's rights. Back off!

Second order of business: I got involved in a Facebook discussion string...just reading it on the outside. I would say my friend, GunDiva, also got involved in another convo and a separate string. She commented. And they ate her alive. Well, in an Internet persona sense. She is still alive. I think. I didn't check with her this morning.

I enjoy lively discussions in person and online. There might be a time when I walk away, move on, or have had enough, but for the most part, I can hang. I also like to browse the crazies. There are some "whack jobs" (crazy as hell people) out there who have no qualms about typing like an illiterate junkie or bashing their neighbor. Nowhere did I see any Andy Rooneys, in fact, on any strings.

Time warp flashback: he was my dad's favorite on 60 Minutes and mine as well in later life.

Do ever go look at someone's profile after they have made a comment to see what they look like? I have. I find the hater baiters disguise themselves. Speaking of which, the next topic...those Anonymous creeps.

                                                         
Photo credit: Pinterest

Really, dudes? You think dressing up like a Phantom of the Opera clown look alike with a big fucking "HOPE" stamped across your chest is going to convince me you come in peace to change the world? Bullshit. I'm running because all I see is Jason wannabes.

Guy Fawkes, you were one creepy effing dude. Actually, you were but mostly in personality sense, not in pictorial fashion. Well, maybe I waver. You have creepy eyes.

And in 2014, Americans made you into a clown. Mr. Fawkes, look down and to the right- below you-you are immortalized as a freak. Everywhere. In Ferguson, Missouri.



Photo credit: flavorwire.com

In fact, the Anonymous peeps added a little of you to a little Vincent Price and a little Jason flair and wallah! 
Photo credit: Wikipedia

Nice stash, tho!


Hey, I am just putting it out there...I look like this behind the monitor...














Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Owl You Need Is Love

The daughter has been full of herself. Beat me now.

She challenged me again to boxing (with no gloves or equipment) and I said...


                                                          Photo credit: Pinterest

She thought it would be cute then to wrestle. She always loses and ends up screaming. I told her wrestling is not cheap shots to the vagina and hair pulling. She said that is the only way she knows to throw me off guard. Lordt, what have I done?



                                                           Photo credit: Pinterest

So, after taking her to the ground and tickling her until she peed...which made her scream and get angry at her mother...I proceeded to make dinner. I had a pan in my hand approaching the stove...ready to make some home cooked goodness... and after her crying fit Bug got up and tried to approach me with pee pee pants. Disgusting. No way was I going to let that near me. I took a Musketeer stance and waved a pan in my hand warding her off.



Side note: Moose does not like "play fighting or wrestling or anything like that". Unfortunately for me, I taught him to attack someone who threatens me or Mady. So during this ordeal, he is confused and runs around and barks excessively. 

As I was waving my pan in fancy ninja form and all chaos was breaking loose which consisted of a teen screaming, a dog barking, and a mother fending off pee pee pants...and a partridge in a pear tree...Moose zigged as I zagged.


         Photo credit: Pinterest

As you can already imagine, the pan made a connection to Moose's head. *CLANG!* Instantly, we all stopped fooling around, panicked, and hugged the dog who was cowering. Poor thing. I checked him and hoped I had not cracked his skull. He did not appear to have any brain damage, however, he avoided me for some time after that...poor puppy.


Photo credit: Fargo

Of course, Bug got her words in and asked, "How could you do that to this poor, beautiful puppy, Mommy?" Yes, I felt as big as minutia or smaller.


                                                          Photo credit: Pinterest

It was pretty solemn at the Harry Potter House after that. Moose and I fell asleep on the couch early on and much to my surprise because I kept watching him for a sign to take him to the vet. I guess it was about 7ish when we dozed off.

I was afraid I had killed him. The End.




Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Seriously, George!

I forgot to add in my new venture...my serious side...go here for the latest! Follow along each month for new things.


                                                                Photo credit: Pinterest


What's hot in law enforcement? What do you want to know? Inquisitive minds want to know...well, at least mine.

Please leave some comments below of your critique of the serious posts.

I can only get better with input. Thank you!

Grumpalumpagus

I'm a little cranky, but not because of the weather.


I have no idea why I am that way, but my forehead continues to frown. I must erase it. Magic wrinkle cream anyone? Perhaps it is because I must now go inside to run because outside is a little much right now for my asthma. When it gets back up to 30 or 40, I might venture outside again. Damn you, winter!



Well, after that long hibernation of a few days, and a blogcation, I am ready to start marking things off my list. I do have to say I am tired of waiting for Ferguson to explode. Get on with it, already. Second, I am really tired of uneducated gun haters and gun control freaks...off with you.


First...new items of business:

1) I want to know where all the bicycles went on The Walking Dead. You could really trick them out with knives welded to the spokes. Of course, if you had a wreck, it might be a little concerning.

2) The books I am going to post for review...all very different...all about law enforcement...all very good so far. I am not quite finished. I will post as I complete them. The first one I hope to have written up by Thursday.

3) Baby, it's cold outside.

Photo credit: Pinterest
Photocredit: Pinterest


4) I love the snow. Winter just feels magical until you freeze your ass off. I even miss the frozen face and eyebrows from working outside all day long. Ice, ice, baby!


5) Did you see Dancing with the Stars last night? My daughter makes me watch it under duress. I thoroughly enjoyed this number...whew! (fanning myself from the heat)




6) I am putting new sweeps on my doors and window seal around the basement windows. I have Justin Bieber and Scottie dog duct tape around a broken window in the mud room. Yep. No words. I should provide pics. It's stylin'. Hopefully this weekend when it warms up, I can seal that up a little better. I have not called for an estimate. It is an antique louver window. Beat me. Can the cheap shit break instead of the expensive?

7) The cold days will be great for Bug and I to finish painting a couple rooms in the house. All outdoor painting has ceased fire. 

New vocabulary from the near south:

1) Grandmawl-spelled g-r-a-n-d-m-a--The mother of one's father or mother, also known and Gma and not to be confused with grand mal seizures. 

2) rule or rewel-spelled r-u-r-a-l--countray...or far out of the city...where farms is.

Three horrific facts:

1) Today is not Friday.
2) Tomorrow is not Friday.
3) Even the day after tomorrow is not Friday.

Have a happy Tuesday!


Friday, November 14, 2014

Celery Makes Me Fat

Getting old has been eye opening. I have my own chart. It's not like any other. I made it up myself. It is based upon real experiences, however, and not fake in any way. Here's my motto...thanks to good ol' Aldous Huxley. I had no idea who that person is, so I had to Google it. It might be fake information, though, because the link is to Wikipedia. You're welcome!


So here we go on with the show...

Stage 1. 0-32...I am a rock star! Invincible!

Stage 2. 32...babies? GET IT OUT!

Stage 3. 33-39...I am just cruising. I am climbing mountains. Laid back on the run. Bipolar stage. 

Stage 4. 40-WTF? Gravity. Isn't there a movie about spacial things called by the same name?

Stage 5. 41-44...I am superstar reincarnated! Ninja skills. Hear me roar! To the wall!

Stage 6. 45...Body to self..you want me to do what? I have fallen and I can't get up! Feet are 20 lb kettle bells. Lucille Ball crying during sex with self. Wine is a staple.

Stage 7. 46...WTF revisited! Boobs on the ground. Broken shit. Celery makes me fat.

Stage 8. 47...Fuck you, body, I'm 29! Repair for takeoff! Repair. Repair. Why aren't you listening? Boxing is good for the mind. 

Stage 9. 48...TBD. Stand by.

Perhaps I should embrace aging this ancient way...


Then, I could literally say I shit gold nuggets at age 50. 

Random Scramble

I'm so far behind I'm ahead. So today's blog is random scramble. That's right. I have no idea.

My blog writing list:

1. 4 book reviews
2. Announcements
3. Heat In The New Hell's Kitchen (not Manhattan)-Ferguson
4. Some funny stuff
5. Bug updates (sigh)
6. Life updates (bigger sigh)

My last two weeks of work has been fulfilled with getting ready for our biggest event in conjunction with an International rock star festival. So let me put that on ice...
2013 Ice Scuplture: Exotic Animals



2014 Ice Scuplture: French Baker



The university does a fantabulous job and this is a big fundraiser dealio as well as a forum for international display of cuisine, dance, fun, cross-cultural learning, culture displays, and  international education opportunities. Last year they featured strange/cute exotic animals (real in the building) which was a big hit! This year was bug eating...meal worms and grasshoppers. Wow. College students love adventure. I watched with turned up nose at that section and Bug did not want to be anywhere near there in fear of puking while observing people trying out insects. I did take her to taste all the international food and yummy. She was most impressed with the Italian section and the Chinese section of food. Delish. I loved the African shrimp dish and the Italian.

She loved the African music in the lounge area. They switched it up with some other cultural pieces and it was fun watching the women dance with cymbals...not to be confused with my symbols...which is actually a new age way of cursing. I guess you could do it to music. I was, however, disappointed she would not go to the belly dancing show.  It is phenomenal. We have like 20 Shakiras.



Last night after the event, I could not moved and slumped into a deep sleep of international bliss. I did have a weird dream. I can't belly dance in my sleep, either.


Today...I cannot move and I do not feel like working. None of us do. This event sucks the life out of us, but it is the lifeblood of our fall activities. Our fair is about promoting study abroad education in the midst of the international fest. We recruit students for programs abroad in international education. That's my job. And keeping the faculty happy.

I need a drink on that note.

Yesterday was day 2 of diluted coffee. I think. I've lost track of days. See. No coffee=brain malfunction. When you get off the crack, you go into a numbing mode of fog and drift off a lot.

Today...I have had one cup. I feel sick and puny.

Anywhinypants, I have a lot to do. I'm about to roll out some more posts. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, check out this website and Google Plus for updates and educational materials on criminal justice. I might be there somewhere. LOL. Look for me! Follow!







                                                                                                                                                                             






Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Coffee-opoly

Well, I have investigated my coffee crisis and budgetary concerns. Angel made left a comment that 3 pounds was astonishing. Well, today, perhaps it has come to light why I go through so much.

I made coffee for the office in the office manager's absence. It is a morning ritual for her to have a pot fresh for all to enjoy.

Lucky thing about Democrats is that they frown on this type of behavior because it is derogatory for women to make coffee or provide coffee to male counterparts, so I don't have to worry about "being in my place" here. Sexist remarks or actions are a big "no, no" and cause them to scurry like rats. I have had an occasion to bring my boss a Starbucks coffee and each time I follow it up with, "And I not your errand girl. Don't tell me to get coffee again. Next thing you know..." Of course, he stops me there and we cause a ruckus in the office. I later have to tell them we are joking and making fun of the situation. The big boss used to laugh at us and we would all yuck it up. One of the ladies in the office told me I was turning back time and being unappreciative of those who sacrificed for women's rights. Another Democrat. I told her on the contrary, I very much appreciated and respected those efforts and it was because of them I could laugh and joke about it like Carol Burnett instead of feeling degraded and it being a requirement of "my place in the work field." Maybe I only make sense to myself. If my opinions or work was not respected, I probably would not joke about getting coffee for the boss.

The office manager (great lady and my friend) is very old fashioned and doesn't care and tells me she will make coffee because she wants to and the like. I like her attitude. She said on the other hand, if her boss asked me to get him coffee on a daily basis, she would tell him to pound sand. She also refuses to change a flat tire and calls a man. Go figure.


                                                                     Photo credit: Pinterest


Ok. I went off on a different tangent and I think I turned a complete circle.

Anythickcoffee (isn't coffee supposed to be thick?), apparently my coffee is like espresso and the troops were not impressed when their spoons stood up by themselves. Thus, I found my reason for going through so much coffee. The light bulb came on. It is because I use a lot. You mean to tell me you aren't supposed to fill the filter basket up all the way to the top for each pot? I can't help it. Once a cop, always a cop. Although, I seem to remember no one liked my coffee at the cop shop except Walsh (former chief) and that is because we both enjoy a good cup of rocket fuel. If the spoon didn't stand up, it wasn't strong enough. Keep brewing.

So, I have decided to save money and cut down on coffee. Now, do I need to keep making the same strength and just drink less cups, or cut back on the strength and make it last longer? Today, I am trying less cups, but still strong.

I have a headache.

Is this what a crackhead feels like when they are having a moment of clarity to get clean?




Monday, November 10, 2014

Black Widow

Yep. We are still waiting for chaos to explode in the south like Detroit burning on Devil's night. I've got the news online...the lobby television is tuned in and we have popcorn! Really, Fargo? That is just cynical and wrong of you. I know. I can't help it. Riots are no fun for the public and even less for the police.

IN the meantime, enjoy this great and informational piece by Mr. G.. at My Daily Kona on Ferguson and his thoughts. It's quite detailed. Go give him some love!

Here's some love from me...

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

Ferguson is preparing for war. So am I. I away with dancing pants on the outcome which I predict is no indictment for Officer Wilson.

Houston, we have another problem.

To keep up with the times of Ferguson idiocy, I am declaring a war on my budget. It seems I have a drinking problem. I don't think rehab is for me, but I definitely will have to cut back.

You see, I am spending too much on coffee. I could argue my world famous doc told me coffee was great for my asthma and is a vasodilator/bronchodilator. Happy me. I found I was spending $80.00 a month. Time to cut back. That is with sales on coffee, even though every pound I purchase is not a sale item. I am going through about 3 pounds a week.
                                                                Photo credit: Pinterest

Just a warning, I cannot be certain my brain will function the same, so future posts may be better or worse depending on how the mind is channeling.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Huff The Magic Dragon



Let's talk about huffing. Not cake. That would be gross and messy.

Usually the preferred weapon of choice is Dust Off (canned air) or whippits (used for whipped cream). You can Google the pics if you don't know what I mean. I'd rather look at this apology cake. I wonder if it has Mary Jane inside?

So back to huffing. It's dangerous. It's downright scary and it can kill people. In an instant. That does not even include the crash when you get behind the wheel, but a vehicle surely makes a grand weapon. Exit stage left.

It's a popular high preferred by teens and really weird adults. Not that the teens aren't weird when they do this, but an adult doing it is like seeing your grandmother sniff glue. You know, back in the day when the boys took the Rubber Cement and giggled in the craft closet in art class? Juvenile. And dumb.

Huffing is more serious and in comparison to grandma glue sniffing...it's a young person thing.

During my law enforcement career, I saw many fatal vehicle accidents where the driver and/or passengers were huffing seconds prior to impact and death. The huffing didn't kill them, the impact did. Erratic driving, behavior associated with an intense high and blackouts all accompany a whiff off a can. Sounds dumb, right? It is.

So why do they do it?

No different then sucking helium, right? Wrong.

Kids like to get high. It's a fad. Peer pressure. It's the "in" thing to do.

I pray I keep my daughter away from such nonsense.

Take a look at a recent case back home. This was typical of a huffing case. Obviously, this kid and the adults with her had had problems with illegal substances prior to the huffing crash. I have no idea why kids do it while driving and all in a group. I think we all got tired of notifying parents of their children's deaths due to senseless acts which were preventable.

Here's a great article for all parents.  Don't forget about bath salts, spice, and script abuse.

Recently, I was engaged in an interesting conversation with one of my college students. She informed me the latest fad in substance abuse is pharmaceutical (script) trading and trafficking amongst some of the smartest college kids...Aderall. 

Aderall is used by brilliant college students to keep focused. She said you will find several Honors students and high achievers using the drug to help them focus and stimulate their brain. They use it during exams, intense research projects, and throughout the semester to attain higher quality output in college expectations. Sad, right? You betcha.

It's cheap, readily available, and they think nothing of it because getting caught with Aderall is no big deal, right? Right. All they have to do is tell the cop or teacher they have ADHD. Who is going to know? It's not like catching them with Oxycontin or Hydrocodone. Will red flags go up?

They might now.

So she told me why this saddens her and makes her disappointed in these great leaders around campus. First, it's illegal but they don't think it's a big deal. It's not like crack, they say. It's not speed. Second, it's just wrong and scary. They become addicted. Obviously, because there is a stimulant in it...amphetamine. How many kids do you know are prescribed this medication for ADHD? Yep. That's where they buy it...from their fellow students. Does it help the ADHD kid focus? Yep. So how will it affect a kid NOT diagnosed with the disorder? HYPER-focused. That's what they tell me.

What's worse? She pointed out several abusers to me in the hallway and I had no idea. They were all the high achieving, brilliant students who do amazing things on campus. Not one of them was a struggling student who just didn't apply themselves.

So when did we start thinking GREAT wasn't good enough?


Thursday, November 6, 2014

Rally Up The Masses

Ferguson is like watching water boil in a pot. A watched pot never boils.

Me thinks this one is going to boil and stick to the stove and I am anticipating a mess. It's like cooking class at the Harry Potter House or Bug making rice. That was not a racial cooking comment but me making fun of my daughter's cooking. I CAN'T SAY ANYTHING in America without people pointing the race card at me now. It's even down to the color of our food!!! I happen to like greens, does that exclude me?

I hope I have overestimated crazy behavior and it is a peaceful resolution to this lingering wart we call The Ferguson Uprising. Where is the Compound W?

You can read the updates online and here is one I found this morning.

I am not really happy about national civil leaders like Al Sharpton and the like making this something it is not. It is not about color. It is not about oppression. It is about what then, you ask? Why can't America get past the race card and move on to getting things done in our community which benefits all? Careful where you tread, Fargo. You said "race card" and that makes people mad or shudder. Shhh. Don't talk about it. You are white.

Is it about a war on cops? Authority? What is going on here, Batman?

I'd like to think it was about fairness and justice, but no one let the system work before they passed judgement. They jumped to conclusions it was about the cops being racist and injustice to a black kid. It was all about color and how they feel the cops are racist.

What about from Officer Wilson's standpoint? Wasn't it about survival? We shall soon know the outcome of the grand jury.

But I don't think it is about an injustice. I think it is about cops and race, for sure, from the community standpoint but I don't think Officer Wilson did anything based upon someone's color. But is not about injustice? Did the cop do wrong? Did the cop do right?

Why? Why do I think this is not about an injustice? How do we even know yet? They didn't wait for justice. Again...I repeat myself.

                                                               Photo credit: Pinterest

Officer Wilson and his family will never have a normal life in that area and I have doubts he will ever be able to go back into his position as an officer in the Ferguson community with success because he will be labeled, blackballed, and slighted by the community no matter what happens. And is it safe for him to be a cop there?  Is he going to be forced to seek life in a community which accepts him or an all white neighborhood? Have we sized it down to that? Think about it. The masses are rallied across the US now.

Was the Brown an angel? Did he do wrong? Aren't we going to find out? It's interesting how this might end up being the most transparent case in history thus far. Talk about micromanaging every move someone makes and then sticking it under a microscope.

The media is in an uproar and raking Wilson's name through the mud because he has missed court appearances, which leads to dismissal of traffic tickets and misdemeanor charges. Whoopteedo.

Do you want to know what happens on the back side? Yes, Fargo, you say with enthusiasm. Many of you probably have the common sense notion going on in your head what is happening to each LEO process Officer Wilson touched as part of his police duties.

Do you really think he is shirking his duties? I do not.

My guess is the administrators, attorneys, and judges convened and decided it was best to let the little fish go in order to forego jeopardizing the safety of the masses, a public riot, or media frenzy in a court room. First of all, it might lead to another physical violence issue. Secondly, would any suspect get a fair hearing or trial? Thirdly, would anyone be able to testify or concentrate with that mess going on?

Whew.

I bet he can't even shop at Walmart without chaos. Whodathunk?

I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I think I might go fill my coffee cup and do some mindless filing. Two workouts today and boxing at home. It's my heavy day. I have to think of myself as a Biggest Loser contestant. Where's Bob? Where's Jillian? Dolvett? The new dudes...I can't remember their names, just that I have friends who refer to them as the "hot ones".

Weirdos

Whew.

I'm too close to the heat.

I have been browsing both right wing and left wing articles and Facebook feed from my friends who post that stuff. Opposing voices everywhere. The liberals are counting on the collapse of Republican party. The Republicans want to throw egg in the face of Democrats in revenge of the last 7 years. The Democrats want free love and taxes on grandma's last nickel. The right wingers are clinging onto guns and Bibles.

And defriending someone over disagreeing with their point of views one day sets you off? I mean it is different if you are finding bigotry or hate posts, because I sometimes have to clean house, too.

I also have to set aside someone's political views and religious views and just scroll on to something else. I can be friends with a diverse amount of people.

It is funny how it gets back to me through mutual friends who call on me and tell me that "so and so" got pissed at your news comment or "so and so" is not following you on Facebook anymore because of what you posted the other day. Or "so and so" blocked you because you spoke out against "so and so" publicly and that pissed 'em off.

Ok.

That is their wish and my command. But really? You are going to stop talking to a person and walk around town avoiding any sort of greeting because of Facebook or my views? Walk on. Weirdo.

Oh, yeah. I called you weird.

I think to myself...what a wonderful world! There is a song about that, too.



All I can say is...Where Did All Our Common Sense Go?

I embrace all peoples and differences. Small mindedness might strike all of us at one time or another, but differences are what makes the thinking tank keep going in this world.

If we all thought the same...how dull.

however, a point noticed today...because people are posting rants on Facebook...in all my short history of life, I do not recall so many hating on the declaration of one's political party name versus talking about the issues. It's so easy nowadays to call your neighbor names or grumble online about their "stupidity" because you like yellow and they like purple.

I have had three long time friends- people whom I worked with in law enforcement- defriend me this week just because they didn't agree with some of my political views or my take on their local politics. You ask. I tell. Why? Because you asked. It's not the military on here. I'm an open book. I also have no filter and maybe say too much sometimes. Sometimes I go nationally internet crazy and I just post what I think of some official's or politician's decision or a civil issue put forth in the press. You don't have to agree.

Can't we still be friends?

I can tell political party association is angering people more so than talking about anything with substance like you wear ugly shoes or your makeup is funny. Maybe my next post will be about uniform fit and care. (snore)

There are so many in an uproar over the Republicans taking the majority of Congress. So what? It happened with GW was in office. It's going to happen when the people are upset. They are going to swing things one way or another to make their voices heard.

I like it.

The people still have their power which was underestimated by politicians.

Check. Check.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Crazy Eyes-HELP ME I've Fallen And I Can't Get UP

I came into the office like fury today and out of breath. My teenager got me ready for work. Read crooked caption for further information on the start of my morning.
Enter office, proudly adorning my "I Voted" sticker from the election and asking such office manager if she had gotten to the polls. She said, "Oh hell no. I don't vote for these elections. I only vote at the big one."

Jumping Jupiter. WTF does that mean?

*blink blink*

So I asked in such a way she was sure to feel insignificant and stupid, "Uh. You didn't vote? Why would you NOT vote? This was the big election. Did you not see Congress was taken over by the Republican party?"

Blank stare and smirk, "Sorry," she said, "I'm just not interested in this election."

That was my cue to shut the eff up.

I will vent here. I can't get over how many people take voting so lightly. And as a woman, it even amazes me more so when you look at history and how we got here. Miffed, I am.

And then there is 'Merica where you have to let be let be. Well eff that. #(*)#*$&_ I see red and I'm not talking Republicans. There is a lot of editing on this post, btw. Because effing makes me feel cleaner than just scribbling it. And symbol cursing is therapy. Why? Because imagine while symboling (not to be confused with the musical instruments) I am pounding the keys. It releases the gases. Or something.


                                                Photo credit: orgs.usd.edu   Musical SYMBOLS


Anyredness, I don't get it. I will leave it at that.

How about that election? Some good and some not so.

Marathon training is interesting. I injured my hip very badly in a haunted house going down a slide and being catapulted to Egypt where my body left my hip. Yes, in that order. It hurts like a motha. It is a big pain in the butt, literally.  It has been almost a month. I call it...Broken Butt. Not to be confused with Broke Back Mountain.

So, my training has been focused on yoga, Pilate's, upper body, and little running.

IT STINKS. P.U.

I have lost 1.5 pounds. I feel like I am losing muscle mass and endurance and I don't like that at all. My last race, I muscled through it and won 2nd in my age group with an injured butt.

Work has been hectic. I like it that way. Home life has been hectic. I don't like it that way. Home life will be fixed....woosaw....woosaw.

                                                                 Photo credit: Pinterest

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Thank A Cop

Thought I would share what I shared on Faceplant today with all of you...


Last night I found some old notes in my boxes of "police memorabilia". In it, were some thank you cards and notes I kept from some citizens. One case in particular, I had extensive talks with a teenager and her mother...

Many times the teen-aged victims of sexual assaults would ask to speak to me during an investigation. In certain cases, parents would reach out. Some wanted to drop everything because it was too hard. I had to find out why they wanted to stop the prosecution. Was it because they were falsifying allegations or testimony, did not want to testify and face the defense questions/jury judgement, or were they having other emotional distress?

This was the time beyond arrest of the suspect and the cases were headed to trial. These were the cases where the victims might have to testify against their attacker(s), but a case still has ongoing casework and investigating even after an arrest.

When they felt they were not strong enough, we had to evaluate what was best for the victim. I often left them with this below information in a nutshell and of course, it was always situational, but the message remained mostly the same. This was the information this particular victim thanked me for two years later when she came to the police station and delivered this to me and asked for a hug.

My words to her were...(what she felt made a difference and included it in the note) "We can't turn back time and have do-overs, although, if that was possible I would do it in an instant for you. You can never be your "old" self, but only a new version. You don't have to be emotionally crippled over this. I am not trying to take away the pain of this crime to you. I am trying to put this into perspective so you can lead a joyous life, despite this tragedy. Take the time to heal and seek professional help. When I am hurting, I find hobbies or something to keep my mind active to avoid deeper depression. Then watch yourself grow, come out on top, empowered, and do not look back. You are only a victim if you choose to be. That is something you cannot let anyone else have power and control over you. Do not give them that."

People need to know when you thank a cop, it means more to us than any award we ever get on a plaque.

Brilliant

Ellen DeGeneres said, "Accept who you are, unless you are a serial killer." 

Brilliant. 

Fargo said, "Get out and vote today. Make a difference, one voice at a time."

Equally brilliant, if I don't say so myself. 

The Boogie Man has been full of doom and gloom news and analysis lately and I am going to liven today up with a little positive. So after you vote, you might want to take on this family craft idea. I think I will try it out with Bug and see what she comes up with and post it later.

It might be interesting since just last night she said she was, "Done with me." I told her, "Nevah!"

Let's play a game called "Hide The Teenager Until They Are 18."

Monday, November 3, 2014

Workorama

This is the work atmosphere today. Please someone rescue me...tap, tap, tap...waiting....








                                                          Photo credit: Pinterest


....and silence...


*crickets*

What's up with the blogosphere today!?!

Sunday, November 2, 2014

No Sugar Coating

Let's not sugar coat this. We are witnessing a rare moment in history with the serial killers being arrested right now in America.

No, it's not the fact that they seem to grow in abundance.

It's not that they have exponential victims.

It's the fact the two most exposed ones right now are both black. That's right, folks, most serial killers are white males. So what is going on? HELL if I know. Probably just a fluke.

So which one is going to have the most gruesome history and the recognized patterned victimology-Jesse Matthew or Darren Vann? It is the prostitutes versus the college girls. Once again, I don't create this, I just watch it unfold in the news.

It just sickens me to think of all the families who have suffered for a long time dealing with all the head games of "what ifs". And believe it or not, even if reality has set in their mind, the families always have hope. You can't help it. It's human nature.

Amongst all this pain and suffering,  at the same time a real cop will confess (if he or she is the real deal and has the ballz) that the mind of a serial killer is fascinating. What makes them tick? We want to know. We want to know all of the pieces of the puzzle. Why are they prone to killing for sexual gratification? Fooled ya! Yeah. Power and sex. It all comes down to that or so you think. Sick.  Yet, it really isn't about sex.

They would just like you to think that. Not that there isn't some sexual dysfunction there. There is plenty o that. The main ingredients they seek are power and control and in turn this creates a high. What kind of high, you ask? Think about it. Pleashah! You get it now?

The really good ones make it an intriguing game of control...everything is about the thrill of the hunt. When the kill is completed...the cycle starts again.

The disorganized one is haphazard, working on impulses. I would even say sloppy at times and easy to catch. But the organized...those are the ones who are mysteries for years until something breaks in the chain. They use intelligence, due diligence, care, and are methodical. Yep.

Next time you are on a first date, check to see if he is disorganized or organized. Then run!

I would like to tell them to their face that they are dysfunctional. Boy, wouldn't it be fun to sit across from a serial killer and get their goat? It happened once for me...only not in an interview in which I would have desired (no sicko pun here), but in my patrol car. Yep. I wrote it all down and the lieutenant back then told me I could not turn that report in because it would sway the jury that the man was nuts. Guess what? It would not have. It would have shown how evil he was and it was excited utterance. I wish I had not been so naïve back then. He got life anyway, but it has always bothered me that I had to keep our transport conversation out of the report by orders. It would not have effected the outcome of the trial. Really, that is a long story for later.

Oh the brain stump question of the day? Why don't they refer to black serial killers by their first, middle, and last name like they do the white serial killer dudes? Yeah. I don't make this shit up. It's true. I looked...






I think the media outlets are all racists. That's the rumor I am starting. I'm going to go on the bandwagon and think fascists.  In all fairness, CNN had one article I found with "Darren Deon Vann" as a headline. But still. I think it is a little suspicious.

Serial killers are a psychiatrist's crack. They and the FBI are going to have a lot of puzzles to put together.

And you just thought they were the nice, quiet boys next door.