Evidence 101

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

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Training Wheels

I might be working on republishing this after the Queen has helped me revamp it. It looks and reads much better. What is it, you say? Guess. Here's an excerpt.

Not only was my mind loaded with training material, scheduling, motherhood, and normal life but my home was in the flood zone of the North Platte River. The water was rising daily and I was concerned it would wash away my dream home. Sandbags and preparation were underway at home. I still had to work and I couldn’t freak out on something I couldn’t control.

Outside interferences plague us all the time, but I had to keep my mind on the rookie and Wheels was a sponge, trying to soak up everything he could learn. Actually, he was to the point where it was annoying sometimes. 

Wheels had soaked up all the academy ways of conducting a traffic stop. Now it was my turn to undo all of that and transform Robocop into a Casper Police officer. His first traffic stop was not pretty. He pulled over a vehicle for drag racing and made contact with the driver.

WHEELS: Sir, I pulled you over for drag racing. Do you have any legal justification for doing that?

ME: *blink*blink*   
DRIVER: *blink*blink*

WHEELS: Well, do you?

ME: *blink*blink* [roll eyes}


Back in the car Wheels decided to write the driver a ticket. Like any good trainer, I had to question his train of thought and interrupt his process. At this time in the game, he could not multi-task, so he had to put down his pen and talk to me. I was a ruthless trainer and I didn’t “soften” anything. I pretty much always laid it right out there.

ME: What in the hell are you asking him that crap for?

WHEELS: Yeah, after I said that, twice no less, I felt stupid.

ME: How does it feel?

WHEELS: To be stupid?

ME: Yep. That. Do you have any legal justification for being stupid?

WHEELS: [laughs] Uh. No.

ME: Carry on, Soldier.


I just needed to say that the Cleveland Abduction movie was a shockumentary. It isn't even a documentary film, obviously. But I am calling it that. I can watch about anything. It isn't even rated XXX or double gross. It really bothered me. There were times I shut it off. Then...I thought...nope. You have to watch this because it happened and you need to see it from a victim's side.

While I love, Raymond Cruz, I almost didn't recognize him in this movie. And he was nasty as Ariel.

If you really want to understand only a FRACTION of what victims go through...then watch it. If you have been a victim of a personal crime...then I say...maybe not a good idea. If you love animals...don't watch it.

It was disturbing.

The movie left me scarred, but it will callous over. No worries.

Did you ever watch Tom Cruise in The Fourth of July? I only have watched that movie once. That should set the stage for this one.

Same effect as House of Sand and Fog. There is no reason to watch it again.

Anyway...it also left me rallying again for the victims.

There is so much more work to be done to help any victim of any kind. Remember that. You don't know what they have been through. Each victim is different.

These are survivors.

I want all victims to be survivors and not victims. Bless their hearts.

We have a long way to go.

Happy @*th day of the Year 2016!


I hope your Christmas was merry and bright. I had a very nice one indeed.

So did my belly, feasting on all my friends' goodies. Boy. Does that ever need work now. Either that or I can just head to the North Pole and help Santa.

Today...a moment of silence for those lost over the holiday. I heard about husbands and wives, etc. Not a good time to lose those you love. Also...farewell to George Michael, Carrie Fisher, George S. Irving, Red Lane, etc. etc. Is it fair to et cetera everyone? It sounds so impersonal.

Sorry. In advance. Or actually retrospect.

In other news...Donald Trump goes down in history for the most mercurial Tweets. I wish people would stop setting him off like a Kindgergarten bully.  Meanies. I need more popcorn. And possibly a beer.

I think he is bi-polar and needs meds. I'm serious about that. Many brilliant and artistic people are bi-polar or suffer from mental illness. I am not making fun. I am only armchair diagnosing the man.

I can only imagine Ivanka might have the best looking wig in town. Why? Because she has to be pulling her hair out. Recently, some friends have indicated they wished she was the next president. I like her too.

So far...I am blowing kisses to 2016 and looking forward to new things in 2017. I hope it is a good year for everyone.


You still need to go out to all your favorite stores and stock up on things, find your safe place. It's a very scary world out there. Why?

Because I get paid to say that.

Well, at least it could boost the economy some.

Just kidding.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Winner! Winner! Chicken Dinner!

Bob G. is the lucky winner of the big contest! Whoop! Whoop!

Thank you for all who played along.

No, he doesn't get a Lucille.

He does receive a Stephen King book series set, a spartan challenge coin, local Indiana products, and gift card.

I have to give a big shout out to the anonymous donors who gave the items for my readers. Sorry, they don't want to be recognized, but all did it over coffee when I mentioned doing a contest for fun. They said..."why not make it more fun with prizes!" Tada!

Much love for them. They are wonderful local old farts and friends.

Today is the last day for me to be getting my last minute shopping and things done for Christmas. It is truly a Charlie Brown Christmas and I am OK with that. I told Bug I was focusing on the meal and we could celebrate by being in our jammies all day, watching Christmas movies and napping. We will go to the midnight service at our church on Saturday.

I hope you and yours have a very Merry Christmas!

Much love to you and see you after the big day!

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Check Please!

One thing many civilians may not realize when winter rushes in and they are tucked away in their nice warm homes equipped with hot cocoa and blankies, is that the PoPo are out in the elements. Defending your honor, your castle, your sanctuary...and nowadays safe space. 

Equally as grueling is working as the PoPo in 117 degrees while wearing multiple layers and a vest. 

Ok. Maybe not. But you get my snow drift. 

We had no choice. It was do or be unemployed. How many sick days or vacation days do you have for inclement weather? And that's not really cool either. People frown on fair weather cops. So we have to suck it up and go out there. 

I don't miss working in these winds recorded yesterday...

It would have appeared that Casper won the prize...until later...
Give those Clark people a beer!
I wonder if a human can stand up in that kind of gust?
Wanna try? Let's play human bowling pins.

I feel pretty warm and fuzzy to have been privileged to have watched all this from the comforts of my desk. Outside...it was a balmy 4 degrees by the time I got to work. One thing over this direction we do have is ice...freezing rain. Well, Fargo...numb-nuts....did not put the car in the garage during all this and woke up to a Vader Popsicle. Who looked like a first class boob outside with a blow dryer at 5:30 a.m. trying to thaw the doors? Yeah. Me. It rose up to a nice 4 degrees by the time I got to the office...

OK... back to the point of this post... don't forget our boys and girls in blue and other colors who have to work in this stuff...icy roads...below zero temps...whiny citizens...winds...yuck. 

They don't get to hide in an office. 

Sometimes they can retreat to their patrol car if the wind doesn't knock the door back in their faces when they get in and out. Yep. Don't miss those black eyes either. 

And not everyone looks as great as I do in those fur hats...

This is me...1)wishing upon a star...2)posing in summer wearing a winter hat...3)trying out sexy lip poses...4)this is not me.

I think we all need to have some compassion and buy them a warm cup of coffee from time to time. A meal would be nice. Unless you worked for my department and those things would be considered gratuities and you could get fired for accepting kindness. What a crock. I understand why people administrators don't go down that road, but an anonymous kind gesture is not easily refused when the bill is paid or the coffee is on the table. Then what? 

Who wore it better? 

Here is a good summary from Clearwater Police Department: 

A gratuity is the receipt of free meals, services, or discounts. Nonfederal police usually do not regard these as forms of corruption ("not another lecture on the free cup of coffee or police discount"). These are considered fringe benefits of the job. Nevertheless, they violate the Code of Ethics because they involve financial reward or gain, and they are corruption because the officer has been placed in a compromising position where favors (a "fix") can be reasonably expected in the future. When there is an implied favor (a "wink and nod"), it's called "mooching". When the officer is quite blatant about demanding free services, it's called "chiseling".

Gratuities often lead to things like kickbacks (bribery) for referring business to towing companies, ambulances, or garages. Further up the scale comes pilfering, or stealing (any) company's supplies for personal use. At the extreme, opportunistic theft takes place, with police officers skimming items of value that won't be missed from crime scenes, property rooms, warehouses, or any place they have access to. Theft of items from stores while on patrol is sometimes called "shopping".

And I could add that we all might be familiar with the theory of the Slippery Slope. So that is why the brass nuts stop the buck before it gets passed. Here is a comparison again taken from the Clearwater Police Department using the Broken Window theory to explain the Slipper Slope. 

The Slippery Slope theory is curiously similar to the law enforcement "Broken Window" theory of urban decay: if a neighborhood allows a broken window to go un-repaired, residents will overlook trash; then ignore decaying properties; then accept street crimes; and ultimately a continual degradation of the neighborhood, allowing crime to flourish.

So what changed all this? September 11, 2001. We can be forever grateful. Blah. Maybe society would have molded our philosophies this way anyway, but at that moment in time...we were awakened and police life changed drastically and RIGHT NOW. There were no choices. There was no discussion. Society defines the blue line. Events define the blue line. It is what it is. 

I still pick up the tab. I still buy the coffee. Fuck the rules. I know my gestures are pure of heart. And there is always that free show of love of the blue line...

Go hug a cop. 

But give notice of incoming affection prior to landing. 

Monday, December 19, 2016

Tweetle Tweetle Little Star...

Ahoy... all ye merry gentlemen and feisty women!

We shall announce a winner this week of the contest. I have the name of the person in my hot little hands (No relation to Trump) and if you guessed the letter "F", you will be in that bucket. The F Bucket. Fitting, isn't it?

What do you win?

Well, that will be shown in the same post as the winner's name.

I could not announce it today because it is December 19th, the day of the Electoral College and we certainly can't take away their thunder.

There is much in the news. Go seek it and ye shall find...a pot full of lies and crazy junk amongst some truth and facts mixed with a forecast of bias. That's about it. I have really tried to unplug from the news because I can't stand it. All they do is use their platform to hate on Trump and I am sick of it. It won't change a lick. It does no good to spew hate of any sort. Just do some good. It's Christmas for fuck's sake.

I know.

That was inappropriate. I think I am out of popcorn, so everything has lost its entertainment value.

I can only hope someone takes away Donald Trump's Twitter before any more ridiculous tweets go viral. But then what will we do? It's like the first world war to be started by Twitter. I laugh when the stupid tweets come out and they blame it on someone tweeting on Donald's behalf. Like...Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde? HmmK. Tell me some more bullshit. Take his account away and ban him from the internet. 

Finals week is over and I made it through my first semester of grad school. Possibly have A's. I am on pins and needles and I might cry if I have a B...just like I did when I was a kid. Why is it so important? Because if I get lower than a B (B- or below) I have to repay back my tuition remission. Egads! That is a lot of money and Fargo would go broke. So... I like to keep myself afloat...above the red line.

It's Christmas week. Celebrate. Be generous. Be giving. Love.

That's an order. It's the LAW.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Am I Back In Wyoming?

And 10 minutes later...
Not sure what will happen when we reach our high of 12 degrees...

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Last Call

Last call. Not for the beer, nor your death. For the contest.

I love this guy.

This weekend, I will select a winner of the prize from this post contest.

If you want some Lucille...you best go enter. The prize is worth $100.00 and has been donated for the cause. It is nice. I want it myself. But alas, I can't have it. I have to give it away. Meanies.

So let me show you some issues that will arise if you let things slip. Why? Because I am all about learning. I learn from myself every single day. I learn from others. I like to share.

Information, that is.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Here is my nice clean baby Lucille, minus the handle and the barbed wire.

But she wasn't always like this.

As I jested with GunDiva on Facebook...It she is so clean right now, you could eat off it her Very naughty sounding, isn't it? Rightfully so. That's why on Facebook, I put "it" in place of "her" and got bonked about being gender neutral.

Before this baby was with edible surface, it was filthy. I had left it in the holster for many moons (clean and oiled) but I didn't check it for many moons and it got gummy. OMG. I fired about 200 rounds through it which isn't many and got all kinds of stove pipes and yada yada.

I was like..WTF?

Yeah. Filthy.

So you should learn that you have to keep your weapon clean and properly oiled and CHECK IT after you do so regularly. Why? Because the only stove pipe you want to experience is in training or practice, not when you look like a monkey fucking a football in the heat of a battle. Duh. And get your firearm inspected and overhauled by a certified armorer in between times. They are devices that go bang most of the time, but they can malfunction or bad ammo can destroy them.

As far as ammo goes...think of it this way...do you go out in the world and pick any old stick to go in the hoohah? Or do you want the good stuff? It's like bad sex. And yes, there is such a thing. You want to prevent dust, diseases, gummy build up, decay, and rotten crotch on your body, so why wouldn't you do the same for your firearm? It's just a thought.

So before the baby was clean and presentable again...there was this...HOLY BALLZ...that's only part of the mess. It just kept going and going and you should see the wire brush. Egads! Chunks. WTF? Well, humidity is not my friend. So now I have learned in this new environment that we need different products and more frequent upkeep.

On the ammo note...I got handed that cheap shit ammo from my department long ago and decided...fuck it...I'm going to go out and get good stuff and not ruin my gun nor have something blow up in my face. Do it. It is worth it. You can get sale prices...but don't buy bullshit ammo, cleaning products, or substandard equipment.

Unless you want to die. It's up to you.

So...now maybe you should enter the contest. It's just a thought.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

United Airlines

Happy holidays!

I am really over all these rude fuckers. they are everywhere. People I know. People I don't know. Fuck. It's the holidays. It's supposed to be grand. Get a grip, people! Stop whining and crying and start celebrating friends and family. And celebrate nature...

It's snowing outside. Nonstop. Yippee!

I am excited. However, it makes for stupid drivers. I need a big inner tube to encircle my car. 

I just pray. A lot. For safety. 

The holidays are killing me softly. Like I'm Roberta Flack. Soft as in around the middle. I have been neglecting my heavy workouts for about two weeks now. I am back on track this week, but the sugar crack keeps getting dumped on us at work. Struggle bus.

I hate genetics when they don't work in my favor. Before I had a uniform that had to fit, so it was easier...and motivation...and reason...and peer pressure. And well, I had to be tougher than the last asshole that tried to beat up the PoPo. That survival mode is still in there, but it is buried behind some Chinese almond cookies right now. I am attempting to resist all crack attacks. But have no fear, I will plod on and be ready for the Spartan race I signed up for on a super discount. I think. My gosh. It's coming fast. Help me!

I think I need to write myself a ticket. Fat zone type. 

It's finals week and I am winding down. So glad. 

NOT glad to start over again. 

I think I have decided not to go during the summer, but I don't know for sure yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm sure I won't do that. Summers are for fun. And projects around the house. And work, of course.

There is really nothing out there to say that would interest you. I just wanted you to know that I am not dead. You know this because Fargo rambles and randomness are known to you and no one could duplicate this in my name.

Oh...wait...I got to go to an indoor range and shoot my gun and clean it. That was fun.

And here is a picture of a rock.
I always knew I loved him.
Oh, I do have news. The cops have not recovered any of my tools nor captured the rat bastard burglars. I'm trying not to stew about it. BUT...alas...I am still miffed. I really have thought about investigating my own case and then I thought...NO I WILL NOT BE THAT kind of ex-officer. But...DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO DO SURVEILLANCE OR SEARCH WARRANTS OR CATCH A CRIMINAL (not the board game)????  On that note, I better deflect and redirect...

Have a great day! Thank you for flying!

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

State of Policing The Police

Did anyone catch the DOJ's State of Policing report just out? It's pretty impressive. Many pages. Many, many pages. Too many to count. Or read. I just skimmed it. Not really. I read the whole damn thing.

I think they have copied things from my blog and my research at college. Those bastahds. I should sue. Or maybe it's just the obvious what has been addressed by the fake news. Probably that.

It's so politically correct and all hip, too.

Ok. It is a good report, but I think although it has some great points, it left some stuff out. Go see for yourself. The state of law enforcement has some reformation to undertake which is no easy task and no cheap task. It is a profession. Treat them like professionals. Be picky. Be strict. Be fair.

Oh, I could go on, but my diplomacy just ran out.


Can we get an order of  FRIES with that NO FILTER, please?

Oh speaking of NO FILTERS...did you know liberals are actually throwing away PC and getting really mad? It's not all warm and fuzzy anymore. They have real feelings! Especially nowadays. The latest set them off...Donald Trump is announced as TIME magazine's Person of The Year. It is so funny to see the comments about this. When Obama graces the cover it is a positive affirmation and honor. When Donald Trump is on it....the naysayers say it is not always an honor to be chosen.

Well...I of solid mind do know that it is not always an honorable dealio like AWARD or TROPHY. It's a participation ribbon. The person on there has some influence, negative, positive, change, blah blah blah.

Participation ribbon. Same as the one given Obama in 2012. Or Putin. Geesh. Maybe. I think it was slanted because Obama's picture was better and more flattering. And the title this year...so typically negative next to a Republican figure: DIVIDED STATES OF AMERICA. Well, that is true, but Obama is the President of the DIVIDED STATES OF AMERICA right now. Asshats.

The media just keeps getting worse...more EVILER (that is a word) and negatively slanted one direction. I can't take it. I have been glancing and clicking off a lot.

In other news...


The contest continues. It's a non-socialist contest. I am sorry but not everyone wins. It's random. Refer to the previous post. Get on it. It closes soon. Your chances are really, really good. This is going to be a great contest...really, really great. The greatest of them all.

We are going to make it great again.

Truly, we can all be winners in our own minds, but you have to work really, really hard in life. Sometimes you get lucky. Like on here. One person will get lucky...in the contest. Stop thinking in the gutter. Think a different kind of "lucky."

It's not like someone is going to go grabbing up all the kitties or anything.

But they need to be stroked and loved, too.

                                                                                  Cuz they are cute.


You thought I meant something else.

Where are your minds? It's the holidays! You should be thinking of sugar plums and candy canes and pussies cute fuzzy stuffed toys!

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

How About A Little Lucille?

I have no idea why the holidays brings about watching war movies. Bug insisted on watching American Sniper last night. Bizarre. She didn't want to watch Krampus, but I made her watch that the night before.


We might not be a normal family.

But soon...we shall watch Miracle on 34th Street and It's A Wonderful Life and all that.

And how about  The Walking Dead? It sucks. Ballz. Like dragon ballz. Except Eugene. I think he is stealing my lines. I loved, "I would like to take it back to awkward silence now." And Negan. I love Negan.

It's time to play a game. The people with the right answers will be thrown into a drawing for a prize which I will gladly mail to the winner. It's a good prize. At least I think so. And no...you don't get to know what it is until you get it. Why? Because it is a SUR prize. I know that isn't even spelled right. Who cares? It's free. Take it.

Don't worry...I will list the right answerers in another post and then announce the winner in another post and you can message me with your mailing address. So...yeah...you have to read some more posts before you drop off this site. Get it? Got it? Good marketing, right? Ha.

Multiple choice-"All I want for Christmas is_______________":

A) To beat the tar out of the burlgars...with LUCILLE. Oh, and world peace. 
B) My tools back.
C) School books because they are very very expensive.
D) A and C
E) B and C
F) All of the above.
G) None of the above.

Oh, and hint: I don't have insurance on the tools.  

Today is difficult. I want to go home and curl up in a blankie with my puppies. Why? Because I feel lazy, that's why. Some days I am not a badass.

Monday, December 5, 2016

Christmas Joy and HUD?

Amidst the Trump Twitter wars...

and holiday events...

... my life has become a normal spiritual holiday time. Here is my naked holiday video with a song for all of you...

I really needed that. It made me feel pretty.

After all, it took a while to exorcise the devil from within me after the burglary. I still am paranoid and scared of a second one. But...for now...I am turning my attention to the holidays.

Bug is full of enthusiasm to decorate and of course has given her mother an impossible list to fill but with the disclaimer: "It's OK if  you can't afford most of this."

Do their lists get more expensive with age? I believe so.

It's nice she recognizes her mother is poor, but I wish I could give her the sun, moon, and stars without giving her no sense of appreciation or instilling over-entitlement or disregarding any appreciation of the American dollar along with that spoilage.

I always drag her along for donating for Toys for Tots. But I still don't think she gets it. Well, I tried.

Photo credit: Someone brilliant on Pinterest

We got into the Christmas spirit by going to a Christmas walk in town and now tomorrow, our town has the annual tree lighting festivities with hot cocoa and cookies on every corner. Be still my sugar tooth. I must not indulge. I refuse to gain the holiday 15...or is it 5?

And just when I am full of the Christmas spirit...our news outlets report some strange occurrence. Meanwhile...Trump nominates Carson for HUD dude? Really? Whiskey-tango-foxtrot. Is it one of those moments where he goes..."PSYCH! I was really really going to say Surgeon General."

Bless the souls lost in the fires in Tennessee and Oakland. Grr. I have no words.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Put Your Left Foot Out

I am full of joy, Master Chief!

Not really. I do feel Satan is leaving my body, however.

So what gives? Nothing. Nothing gives except time. Time to dissipate anger. I passed it around. Everyone near to me is so happy with this and you're welcome.

In the news? It's quite gloomy out there. Fires. Riots. Protesters yanking tree lights off Christmas displays. Shootings. Knifings. Crazy shit. And the leftists blame it on the right. Let's take a poll and find out how many of those suspects are Republicans. Oh, snap. Fargo is full of snark. Is it true? Is it true that Satan has been driven out and our old Fargo is appearing?

I don't know. I still feel some fiery anger in there. It makes me frown a lot while I walk around.

But I would wager a banana salad and a coffee those folks up there creating some issues going beyond just peaceful protesting... are mostly undeclared, Independents, or Democrats. Mostly leftists.

The Faceplant has been so full of daily rants and ridicules. I have never heard of so many people defriended their family and friends over someone they have never met or invited over for dinner. So..you just exorcised Aunt Mary from your Facebook friends because she voted for Trump? You just defriended five friends because of their daily Democrat rants? Really? We have grown such thin skins. It might be age at our stage in the game. THEY say skin gets thin as we grow old. Anyway...wow. You could just click on the notifications and not get them in your newsfeed or ignore their tantrums and political rants. Just a suggestion.

I like to stir them up. Put my two cents out there.

It's quite interesting. I find it a good study of human behavior.

Hold my beer...watch this.

Many of my friends still seek out their safe spaces. Meanwhile, I am eating popcorn and drinking wine and enjoying the shit show.

Who let the dogs out? Roof. Yeah. We are not only talking about pets...but MAD DOGS. On some chaotic news of epic glory....Trump is nominating Mattis. I hope he gets an exception. I like the guy. I don't know him personally, but I like him for that job. I think part of that position is you have be super intelligent and up to date on military innards and outtards and all that jazz but also a bit ruthless. I think Mattis is a nice ruthless. He does it in a diplomatic hard stance way.

And the voter recount thingy? Nicccceeee. What a waste of millions of dollars. Could have done some real good for charity work. Isn't it funny how millions get thrown at stuff like that, but we can't get our own country out of poverty. Hmm...

I think I need some new shoes. Oh. Look. Macy's sale!

Still to this day, there is a division and it still gets fed by the media and accelerated to epic proportions. The anchors bring out their party colors and if studio materials weren't made well, I would expect to see things destroyed in tantrums, rage fits and throw downs, or pencil slamming.

Insert more popcorn.

Enjoy the show. This is free shit we don't get every day.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The Robburglar

Some housekeeping is in order.

First, there are a lot of fucks in here today. If you are against cursing as part of the English language in which they can be used as adjectives or nouns, you should leave today and go to a nice peace making site. Today if full of anger and joy. Cop style.

Cops have pet peeves. We either ignore them or they grate on our nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. If it becomes a chronic issue, I will become the People's Frankenstein.

Two of the most common are firearms safety and the bastardizing of verbage. Ok. Pause. Thinking about these things is already fucking with my head and causing the beast mode to be activated. I think part of the reason is because I was recently a victim of burglary and so I am pissy. If it is coming out in this post, I apologize to all of you lovely people.

My next research project is going to focus on how long it takes victims to expel anger.

Ok. So back to the heart of this verbial bastardizing post. Yes, I make up words, too. But my peeves aren't with people making up words, it is with them not knowing what they fucking actually are. So here goes: MY PEEVES

1. Keep your fucking finger out of the trigger-index, index, index. 

I think when I type those words, I am actually pounding the keyboard. The effects of seeing someone misusing or mishandling a firearm rages to my ever inner soul. Seriously. I will say something to a fool. I just did the other day in a gun shop and the fucking firearm wasn't even loaded. It was my big boss. I helped him purchase a new weapon and he was handling and I am all like WHOA, DUDE. It was all good. He is new and now that he has gone to the range...he is so respectful and good with his Glock. Yay. He is proud and I am proud.

But first...there was CLASH OF THE TITANS.

2. If I hear another person say, "I've been robbed! I've been robbed!" and someone hasn't had a gun to their head or beat up while the family gold was ripped from their neck, then I am going to give them a fucking throat chop. Do you know what the word "robbery" or "robbed" means? Do you know the internal response an officer feels when the word "robbery" is mentioned or the images circling in our head?

"OMG. Are you OK?"

Sure this is a natural response to any victimization of crime.

But when you say robbery, I am visualizing you with body wounds or some serious mental injury.

And there is a difference between robbery, burglary, and home invasion.

When a locked/unlocked occupied/unoccupied structure or fenced area gets entered or suspects remain upon and/or property is stolen...that is a FUCKING BURGLARY.  If people are in their home, and an entry is made and goods stolen that is a home invasion. This includes an "invasion into the structure" concurrently while bad guys are running around stealing and shit and scaring the residents. Additionally they could be stealing while the residents are sleeping. That is a form of a burglary and often referred to as a FUCKING HOME INVASION. Some might charge it as a robbery and some might charge it as a burglary. It depends on what the intent of the bad guys was/is at the time and what they are doing and saying. Kapeesh?

If weapons are involved, it is a FUCKING AGGRAVATED BURGLARY. That means if they had weapons or stole weapons. Now if the bad guys used weapons in the home invasion that can also be kidnapping and armed robbery and aggravated burglary all together. See? Get it?

If a business owner is doing their daily business thing and a dude comes in with a weapon or pretend weapon and demands money or steals shit...that is a fucking robbery. If the business owner is home and the business is closed and bad guys come into the business and steal shit...that is a fucking burglary. If they steal guns from a gun shop that is THE END OF THE FUCKING WORLD and AN AGGRAVATED BURGLARY.

If you are walking down the street and get "mugged", that is a fucking robbery. If weapons are involved, it is a FUCKING ARMED ROBBERY. If just physical strength or threats are used it is a FUCKING STRONG ARM ROBBERY. OK. Kapeesh?

It is not a robbery when Little Johnnie's bike gets stolen out of the front yard. It is not a robbery when your tools get stolen out of your garage or home. Do not run into the front yard of your home, screaming, "I HAVE BEEN ROBBED!", when your x-box has been stolen while you were at work.

Both types of bad guys who engage in this kind of theivery can be defined as fucking rat bastards. 

You know what makes me most mad about being a victim of a burglary? I know better to be more careful. But I also hid things. It was locked up, etc. No, I didn't leave it in the yard. It sucks when you live in a shitty state where insurance on a restoration site does not cover contents and it is sky high for structure coverage and liability. It fucking sucks. Another reason why I am not long for this Indiana world.

The one thing stolen from me which makes me so damn mad is the red Milwaukee 2407 drill set that I bought after my first divorce as my freedom tool. I am poor and so I will have to wait for my tax refund to replace it.

Fucking rat bastards.
And also my rubber mallet. I used that to finish a fireplace and I was damn proud of my work. Yes, I stripped that mantel and put those rocks on there. I R a mason. I mean, seriously, I wish I had the dough to go out and buy a new set and love it and hug it or go rescue mine from the bad guy. That's how much I loved it. I am so sad. I'm sad about the tools which were given to me by my friends when I got divorced. I am sad about the tools I purchased over many years. I am sad about the ones that were left behind by my ex-husband that I re-purposed and learned how to use. I am sad about my dad's tools that I had since he died. I am just fucking sad.

Sealing of stones left and wallah! DONE.


I know. You are like...Whoa, Fargo, where hath she gone? I really do feel homicidal today and boy howdy, do I wish the Wild West was alive for just one moment to take care of my business on the home front. I know it is a fleeting moment of intense anger. However, it has lasted two days. That's probably not healthy. I don't talk about it at work much. Everyone knows right now I am an explosion waiting to happen.

I'm sure my Milwaukee drill was pawned for heroin. I hope their fucking teeth fall out and they rot in hell. Yes, I have already had a bottle of wine as therapy two nights ago and it did not help.

And if you want to tell me about your day and the cute arrangement you made on your mantel or how wonderful your cup of coffee tastes...well, I don't want to hear about it. Why? Because I want to be a miserable fucking bitch for a while. Nuff said.

I am literally running around every day with tear filled eyes, trying to avoid looking like a cry baby but all I want to do is weep.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Faux News

The last few days have been interesting headline news. I have even gotten suckered in there at times. Some outlets have even included some fake news used for click baits and do not match the article or content of the problem. Isn't it funny how headlines grab your attention and affect our emotions instantly? We may or may not even read the article which may or may not match the title. Why is that? Because fake news and click baits generate advertisers and revenue and attention.

It's sad, really. How sad is it? It's just about as sad as when you say hello to someone in church and don't get a reply.

Ok. I have a tendency to let my smart ass leak out. Sorry. Back to the nitty gritty.

For instance, the articles going around about the Denver Sheriff's Department getting fined for not hiring illegal aliens. False. I even got sucked into that. It was because their wordage excluded legal residents who were not citizens of the US. It also included practices that the department ONLY considered US citizens. Big difference.

The military has a pathway to citizenship. Many foreign residents serve in the military.

Anyhoozle, back to the Homeland... so this language was considered discriminatory.

Ok. Stop the bus.

Most law enforcement organizations do not hire non-US citizens.  Why aren't those others fined? Because the language is different and they are codified. I bet the farm (and I don't even have one so it is a big gamble) that Colorado fixes their language. They will either change their hiring practices or change the laws on the books like the other states.

An excerpt from one of Caller links I shared: "More than 40 states have laws restricting non-citizens from being police officers, but Colorado is not one of them, a fact the Denver Sheriff's Department did not know, the Caller reported."

There are some that do hire non-US citizens. They are legal residents of the US and have a clearance to work here. Some are working on getting citizenship.

So what does this mean?

Many LEOs were under the assumption that no one can be a LEO unless they were a US citizen. That is true in many organizations and that is not against the federal law. Here is another case out of Oregon. 

So confusing, right? Not really.

Now back to the headline. Illegal aliens cannot be LEO in any state in the US. So some of the headlines out there were baiting people angrily toward the DOJ forcing Denver to hire illegal aliens. Not so. But...here's another thing...why in the world are you going to cripple an agency with fines? You couldn't just say...oh hey...this is against federal discrimination laws because of your language and you need to fix it. Ten hut ten hurry. You have a probationary period. And you have to go back and reach out to all those other applications you discarded and reevaluate the applicants. IF you refuse...then you will have the wrath of the federal government. Maybe that is what happened behind the scenes. We may never know. Or it might come out in sound bytes.

But the PoPo are being very "yes ma'am" and "no ma'am" about it. They also cited they did not intentionally do this and were fixing it right away.

Nothing like the big clobber of government down on your head.

I know fines and sanctions are in place for a reason, but the criminal justice system needs to be reformed working together, not just by throwing a minnow out in a tank of whales and expecting them to figure it out. Let's work together. Get on the same page. Get some standards across the board. There are so many parameters all over the nation that no agency is the same. The rules are different. In some places you cannot exceed the age of 35 for application. Some have strict hiring processes. Some hire their buddies. Egads, Batman!

I have never understood why states don't work together for the professionalism of the career and standardize some things about hiring processes and lateral transfers. Slowly there are some rays of sunshine in this area, but it has taken decades. We all do the same job. Don't we want to do it best?

It doesn't mean police are going to spit out military base clones. Peace officers standards are generally the same in each state with little variances. Some agencies are super strict and some super lax in their maintenance, training, leadership development, and requirements. That's the meat and potatoes. Just having the basics isn't good enough. I call it UPKEEP.

You have to grow good LEOs.

It will be interesting to see how things pan out over the next few years and how much the federal government will try to impress upon the states for reformation.

It's a big task.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Sheriff Woody

Browsing through some journal entries...I found this peach of a night. You can tell what kind of mood I was in by my sarcasm and choice of vocabulary.  I never sugar coat things nor wrote politically correct passages in those days. Sometimes...we just have to vent  organically about the kind of exposures we get...

The Lepreshawn was released from refresher training. He didn't enjoy the tunes I played for him during his express trip back to patrol. He can play his AC/DC and I can play my hood music. It's all good. Although I did pull up to him with my Billy Squier blaring...and he rolled his eyes...asked me where I had been hiding that.

MWAAHHHHAA! Aren't training officers great?

The police blotter went to hell in a hand basket...here's the first 5 hours of shift...all legit calls...



















The guns were out of our holsters more than they were in.

That is an accurate assessment of how bad the night goes...

Guess what calls I got stuck with and you win a new car! JUST KIDDING. The police department might frown on me giving away my g-ride.

But...in case it becomes a prize, you should know-it goes really fast and you can make home movies inside the car.

Three of the crimes up there were committed by one person...the rest all had separate suspects. Guess which ones those are and you have my job...for a week...'cause I need a vacation.

I responded to 11 out of the above calls.

After taking Ma and Pa Kettle...(almost literally speaking) to jail, I ran from call to call. But first...the Kettles:  a 53 year old cougar (who fell out of a tree and hit every ugly stick on the way down ) and her 37 year old husband went to jail for dealing dope.

It didn't slow down. But I was off my game all night. Maybe I was discombobulated because Lepreshawn wasn't in the car to harass. I had to go run 3 miles at the police gym around 1 AM just to run all the Boogie Man thoughts out of my head. It was getting scary out there. I was surprised I even got a break during all that chaos. BUT...I just hit the code 7 at the right time.

One of the most fucked up calls that took me back to my detective days memorable calls of the evening was Sheriff Woody. He had been a corrections officer in a far west state for over 10 years. His wife was serving our country in Afghanistan. He decided while she was gone to diddle his daughter and her friend and some other things.

I sized him up. He was quite the loser. You know what really pisses us off? When criminally minded people somehow infiltrate the criminal justice system and work beside us at some point. I really want to kick them in the privates.

Because he was into oversharing, he told me he got fired from being a cop because he got caught hiding in a locker in the girls' locker room at work. Yeah, you little pervs out there...get out of the girls' locker room...quick...before you get caught. And the dude was huge...so how do you stuff a 6-1 weighing in at 270 pound dude in a locker? No wonder he got caught. First, he's a GENIUS...big man in a little hole (sing it like Chris Farley and Dana Carvey)...second, I'm sure he was in there for days because he was stuck. Ugh!

He confessed all his sins over the last 5 years, telling tales that he wanted to make it big in movies and pics...and I'm not talking proper flicks. Who brags about that? Fucking douche canoe. Internet trader whore pimp child molester weirdo. Yes, he was three of the crimes above.

So anypervert, I arrested him and he smiled when I put the handcuffs on. I've had smart asses before who are snide and gaff at the PoPo. This was something else, but I chose to ignore him.

I patted him down and he giggled. Whiskey-tango-foxtrot. I was in possession of a real weirdo.

Not a good sign.

When I stuffed him in my half cage...ok, I was not being mean...blame the car design...he got in and shoved himself to the far corner. He giggled and squirmed (as much as he could) all the way to the jail. Weird.

I asked him if he was alright a few times on the way up to the pokey and he always smiled and said he was SUPER! Odd.

Never had he been to jail...except when he worked in one.

Sooo....was it nervousness? Was it stress?

Hell to the NOOOOOOO...

But I really didn't know what it was until after the fact.

When I took him through the Iron Gates of Hell..he was joking and laughing and yucking it up. Then the detention officer came in...did his thing.

The detention officer had a weird look on his face and he looked at me funny. Well, I looked at him funny right back. The dude was strange. What could I say?

I had a reputation of bringing in weirdos so I thought the DO was just giving me one of those regular weirdo looks.

He was passed through to the holding cells and I started to depart the ways.

They buzzed me on the intercom to stay in the book in room. I waited with obedience and an impatient stance.

Then the detention officer brought me the dreaded super dooper maximum strength germ killing knock the hair off your ballz sanitizer spray and a throw down towel.

I was confused.


ME: What the?


ME: Yeah, that about suits him.


ME: What? We didn't have any issues. I had the recorder on. Is he complaining?


ME: You don't have to yell at me. He didn't throw up or pee his pants. I call that a win-win.

DETENTION OFFICER: Sorry. He had a hard on in your car. Might have made a mess.

[Oh..the lights came on and angels DID NOT sing from heaven at the thought of jizz whiz in my g-ride]

ME: What the? Are you kidding me? The sicko. Really?

DETENTION OFFICER: Really. That's why he wouldn't stand against the wall right when I patted him down. He would have knocked his dick against the brick. Then after we passed him through...he told me he had a problem. It was a LITTLE problem...boner... but still.

ME: What the? Let me go talk to that fuckstick.

So I went back into holding and gave him a piece of my mind. Apparently, after talking about his deeds and then getting into my hot car with Ray J's "Sexy Can I" playing...he got turned on.

UGH! Perverts! What is wrong with people?! What a dick whistle.

EW!   I will never understand the perverted ways of arousal.

In a ball in his cell while I am scolding him, he kept telling me he just needed help. I am sure I looked like the Bitch From Hell leaving that room. I can't even repeat what I said. It was on camera...so I am sure the Sheriff...not Sheriff Woody...will be calling my supervisor...or NOT. He hates perverts too.

And my poor g-ride...ruined for life. It will never be the same...I can't even look in my back seat anymore.

My car is so ashamed.

You can tell...she has been violated.

I even tried giving her a wash and wax job. It didn't help. And I share the pain of violation with her.

Car therapy anyone?

We can't play Ray J anymore. It brings back bad memories. At least it was a lame CD...not like throwing my Bone Thugs or 50 Cent out the window. God forbid if I had been using my iPod. That's an expensive disposable item. Or Billy...I just cringe to think what would have happened if I had played THE STROKE.

I hate it when the bad guys get one UP (pun intended) on the PoPo.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

The Noises In Our Heads

Any one struggling to find a reliable news source? I finally started going to The Economist on a regular basis. Thank you, Jesus. It seems less sensational and more factual...but it is journalism so take my recommendation with a grain of salt. Gone is anything remotely attributed to sports, Hollywood gossip, or this wacky news reporting from American mainstream media.

I really don't know what to think of Hillary's last speech. On one hand, I am glad she was forthright in coming out with her deepest feelings like she wanted to curl up in a book and never leave the house. I guess she was that confident she was going to be president. And she looked like hell. Yikes. So you could tell she had done some "Democratic soul searching" which I translate to depression and sadness. But on the other hand...I have never known any other politician to talk like that and most of the time they have their game face on, so it made her appear vulnerable. I guess that is human. I struggle with this in those who are public officials. It is probably because I wasn't allowed to show those things on the job...so neither should anyone else. A bad analogy. However, it also shows to me an emotional state which if she was this distraught over this...would that have resonated to how she handled other things. Just a thought.

And I will relish the day politics is not the top of the list and news goes back to mass disasters and destructive behavior. Oh..just kidding. Relax. I can have some super cynical humor. 

SO it became a time to reflect back when I threw a tantrum (not yesterday but a few days back...let's say to 2012) and when I located this post from 2012, I was overcome with sadness. If I could only turn back time...(sing it Cyndi)

I suppose cops are never suppose to show their human side to the public and only contain our emotions. We often do that on the job. Seldom do we slip even in the heinous of crime scenes. Most often I do a good job of creating an outer shell. However, I am a girl. Yes. Tears happen.

Have you ever been on the verge of tears, but they just don't come? I'm there.

A year ago I put my place up for sale. The first realtor did nothing, not even advertise. For 4 months the only thing he did was put it on the MLS and try to sell it to two rich families at a jacked up price. I was so busy, it took 5 months to fire him when I found the time.

I hired a good realtor. Two weeks later, she retired and passed my file off to another realtor friend of hers, me trusting in the referral. For 6 months, my place saw a lot of advertising but no calls and no showings. Not one. I fired that realtor and chose my next.

She found many problems in the listing...false advertising, advertising the wrong acreage (less than I had), the wrong square footage in the house(less than I had), the wrong size of shop (she advertised a lot less than I had...she listed the wrong materials in the kitchen...a lot less quality than I had. Many of these things I got into a pissing match over and the realtor would not change...just told me to be patient. I found out from my new realtor that my place had been listed as, "confidential, no showings." WTF? The old realtor had even advertised there was state land in the middle of my land. WTF? She never picked up the paperwork at the house and was only there once. I had to put the signs in the ground and put them on my property, not the rancher's where she had it. On and on...with the problems. The pictures were blurry on the MLS. Then the day before I fired her, she said, "You need to reduce your price by $150,000." Seriously? Your market analysis was that far off? I was bent.

It's been three weeks with the new one and the house has shown 5 times and we have had several inquiries. The ranchers and fishing guides can't believe it's still on the market with the reduced price.

So that's good news, right?

I can't really get excited because I've been spinning my wheels for a year.
I'm ready to start fresh, pay off my bills, move and begin a new life. Most of all, I'm ready to be a REAL mother. I say that in jest, but it's true. My job gets in the way. If any other woman cop tells you different they are full of shit or a man cop.

Edward Bulwer Lytton, whom I do not know or any shit from shinola that he was famous for...so sue me... once said something profound that has been said often...

To find what you seek in the road of life,
the best proverb of all is that which says:
"Leave no stone unturned."

Well, I did. I walked around the yard and kicked every stone. There literally are none left unturned. I found myself talking out loud and then realized I was talking to God. Then I wondered if he could hear me with all the bazillions of people praying and talking to him at the same time I was. I even got mad. I didn't get mad at God out loud, but I was miffed and blurted out mumbles. I'm sure He still heard me. What is my path? Why can't you take me there down an easier road? Haven't I done enough good to have a break? Why am I your punching bag?

I was being silly but then again venting is supposed to be healthy, right?

Although my world is in turbulence right now, I found myself still going forward, thinking forward, always dreaming. I feel heavy, tho, because two years have continued to have one disaster after another. They still keep coming. And I'm not kidding. They are literally great disasters, however, I still see the little rays of sunshine and hope. I have positive moments and a wonderful family and friend support structure that continue to hold me up.

Sometimes I feel like I'm hanging on a thread...just to lose everything financially, only to find one more month I can barely pay the mortgage somehow, someway.Each day is harder to scrap up the funds, even on my small budget. I suppose if my disasters didn't happen to be those that were wallet eating kind or heart breaking kind, things would be different.

This home was my sanctuary and now feels like a prison. Maybe that is what is meant to be. Then I think that statement is preposterous.

I look around and see all the amazing wildlife. I mean how often to you get to sit on your deck and watch a bald eagle swoop into the river and grab a fish? Birds singing? Meadowlarks? Grackles? Bunnies? Or tundra swans during mating season? Egrets? Blue Herons? Mountain lions? Beaver? Otter? Weasels? Mink? Raccoons? Geese, ducks, yes...pelican. Blah, blah, the list goes on. How about the 400 elk that migrate during November to cross the river? Yes, let's not forget my friends the snakes. I'm so accustomed to them, they only scare me right before I chop their heads off with a shovel.

I think maybe it's become too financially great and I am holding out that it will sell and I can relieve my duty and my debts.  I was so adamant in keeping it, was I so dumb to not notice it would become my ball and chain? My purgatory? [I'm not even Catholic, but I use the word lightly] Perhaps it's the anxious feelings I have to move on. I'm ready.

The River War Haus

Although I really feel at peace here and I have preserved the land as best I could afford with more moxie than money, improved the habitat, and tried to keep the riverbank safe from buffoons, I think it is time to pass it on to someone else. There is much more to do that I can't afford and I think another steward of the land needs to add their touch. I guess when does it stop becoming day by day? When do the goals and dreams happen? Are they the ones I'm supposed to attain? It was all starting to hurt my head, so I decided to go inside.

Then it started again. The noise.

Why do things and people come into our lives? Sometimes it hits us on the head like a hammer, sometimes it is slight, sometimes it is unknown.

I responded to a call today and the name, faces, and circumstances all seemed familiar. While Squirrel was off talking to some folks, I started poking around the back of the house. I peeked inside a car window and saw a name on a piece of paper.

Then I called my buddy, The Tuminator. We worked as detectives for over 7 years together. Many of our cases were action and high profile. We had a blast. He and his wife, Marla Dearest, still remain dear friends 20 some years after first meeting on the job at the police department.

ME: Hey, remember that case?

TUMINATOR: [laughing] Which one?

ME: That ONE?

DUH. We only did 100s.

I gave him the information and he refreshed my memory of a homicide of a baby where the boyfriend threw the infant and the infant died. The girlfriend-mother of the child tried to cover it up. It was weeks of work. We were working long hours, interrogating the world and finally got a confession. The boyfriend is still in jail and will remain there for life...or at least 15 years. Apparently, when you kill an infant it's not as important as killing an adult and you get less time. Yeah. Makes no sense.


Here I was today face to face with the surviving older boy of that homicide victim and two new siblings. They had been locked out of the house by their mother and left alone. Like...all day. By the time we got there it was 2:00 pm and 92 degrees. Very small children. One of them 4, was alone and crying in the street for quite some time before a neighbor rounded them up and called police.

The neighbors and trailer park management came together to tell the police their story of how these children are left like this and often just wander around unattended while mom drives off for hours and almost all day. They knew they should have called but they had been taking care of the kiddos because they felt sorry for the kids. But...no more. They called. These were outstandingly nice and well behaved children.

The kids were distrusting of the police but made Squirrel and I laugh because they said they liked the "skinny" cops, not the fat cop. We knew they were making reference to another  officer on another shift who worked the "ghetto ghetto" who had a gruff reputation.

We took the kids away. The mother never showed up even after 5 hours. She didn't call or answer her calls or messages. At about 6:00 pm, she finally called the cops. We asked her where she had been, knowing full well the answer.

Apparently she calls her drug dealer "Walmart."

What does the call have to do with my personal stress?  Absolutely nothing, but it just is a piece of the noise inside my head and a show of the outer shell lifted off the cop. Someone put it back on!

Being stressed out and sorta normal is hard. Some might even think I'm crazy or having a meltdown. I like to think of it as the point where God gives you too much to handle and things are going to turn around positive soon. I think it's much easier to have multiple personalities...at least you could give them all a job.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Berzerk! Lose Yourself!

Apocalypse...Day 8. We are still all alive and drinking lattes and putting gas in our vehicles. Wow. So far I haven't had to use any cans of whoop ass nor stock up on canned goods, bread, and water. Oliver has been practicing Walking Dead behavior and jumps on my stomach at night, curls up in a ball and stares at me. All. Night. Long. CLAIMED!

I think he is worried because of my concussion. WHICH...I might add...is causing some whacked behavior and memory loss. I have trenches in my house because I walk 5 feet and forget what I was going to do, then backtrack, remember, then forget. Fuck me in the ass. My daughter says I need to eliminate the phrase from my lips because she really HATES it and I have been saying it too much. Good thing that concussion didn't expunge all my memories and jargon.

Oh...I don't know if I mentioned it, but I fell off a ladder and hit my head on cement and on the way down a brick wall. Dislocated my shoulder and cracked the ball joint. That's what I call that thing that hooks the arm to the shoulder. But hey...I did not die.

ER Selfie!
I got the special room

Word to your motha...don't dance on a ladder to Fergie, using your paint brush as a microphone in a super overly large Tyvec suit. I went to the local ER and Peyton Manning saw me naked.

Buy hey! No worries. I look much better now. All the color is drained out of my face. I have no idea. That's what concussions do, I guess. 
What happened to my color? Ack! Dang camera. LOL
Today, I am in a lot of pain even though it has been two weeks since "the fall". The ER is convinced I got beat up by a man. After being interrogated, I am pretty sure they still don't believe me. Whatever. If they only knew me. I don't think they liked my answer that if a man tried to beat me up...he would be in their triage area on a stretcher or better yet in the morgue. Those are "alarming" words. They even asked where it happened and "if I send officers there, what will they find." I said, "NO ONE." 

Egads. We have taken 5 steps forward and 3 backward in helping women. 

The super moon is destroying my electronics and appliances. Photo credit: Bug (she is a marvelous photographer)

My refrigerator is about to go out, however, I think it is a bazillion years old and possibly June used it to keep leftovers fresh for the Beaver.

Negative energy surrounds me and I am supposed to cut cords from people who suck the life out of me by TODAY. The PRESSURE!

On top of that, all the media outlets have gone berzerk and I can't find a reliable news source. Wait. That already happened. BUT...it is getting worse. I just get angry. I can't find anything that is fact reporting. Skewed News is the way to go...and it comes from both the left and the right. I have never seen so many network meltdowns IN.MY.LIFE. Adults having temper tantrums and spewing so much personal opinion just makes me sour. And I don't care if I align with them or not. I don't like it. I like fact reporting. The trust is gone. I have to question everything. Geez, next thing you know, I will be wondering if we really did land on the moon.

It is world panic time and as the CNN ticker at work pans out: DEMOCRATS BEGIN TO DO SOUL SEARCHING. WTF? Over?

Maybe it is just me, but I keep seeing a lot of whackadoodle poodle thinking and reacting out there. It's not the fucking Purge out there. When that starts up, we should fucking panic. Perhaps I just don't panic until the last minute or when I need to until the world ends. I'm a procrastinator panicker type. I think I should coin that phrase and add it to the DSM-5.

It's time for a little Eminem

I think I am just going to tackle life by getting some more tattoos.