Evidence 101

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

Friday, June 23, 2017

Unicorn Lessons

This story still makes me laugh. I love kids, especially ones who really aren't bad kids, but just might be out there pulling juvenile pranks. In their minds, they are just having some innocent fun but with a little edge.

We just so happen to run into quite a few good kids who maybe just needed a little guidance. Basically, you know you have good kids in front of you when they shit their pants because the cops pulled them over. It's a clue. If they fear the cops in a respectful manner, they are mostly good.

Officer Squirrel and I were on special assignment during the night. We worked hard and tried to find DUIs, traffic violations, suspicious persons walking. Basically, anyone out in our sight was meat. These would be prime training opportunities. FTO 101.

About 11:00 p.m., a red car caught our attention. Not because of a traffic violation...because they were clearly hauling around stolen property...

Actual captured photo of suspect car. Photo credit: Fargo

OFFICER SQUIRREL: Do you two know why we pulled you over?

BOHEMIAN JOHN: Yes, sir. [nodding his head]

OFFICER SQUIRREL: Not only did you steal a traffic pylon, but you duct taped it to your windshield. It's kind of obvious you were going to get caught. And what about the "shoo police" on your back window?

BOHEMIAN JOHN: The part that says...Magical Unicorn Ride?

OFFICER SQUIRREL: Yes. You do realize it looks like you have a you know what taped to your windshield.

BOHEMIAN MATT: Yes, sir. We thought it was funny.


ME: It sounded like a great idea at the time, right?

BOHEMIAN JOHN: We were just talking about that when we were pulling over for you, Ma'am.

So...we ran the little buggers and they didn't have a criminal record and were just freshmen in college. We threw the hammer down on them and made them drive 3 miles back to where they stole the cone and put it back, had a little lecture, and a little Fargo one on one time.

ME: Thanks, boys. Hope you make some better choices. You can be funny, but don't steal, even if it's seems like a little thing.

BOHEMIAN MATT: Thanks so much, Ma'am.

ME: Remember one thing.

BOHEMIAN JOHN: Yes, Ma'am. What is that?

ME: You don't have to have a traffic cone taped to your windshield to look like a couple of dickheads.

BOHEMIAN JOHN/MATT: [simultaneously] Yes, Ma'am. Thanks again.

With that last profound statement, we sent them on their way. I have to admit while I was driving down the road, I was laughing so hard the tears were flying. It was that contagiously chronic laughter. We both couldn't stop...probably because we used to do those dumb things, too.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Awesomius Randomis

How do I write thee words?

Bucket list:

1. Boating accident. (check )
1A. Near drowning incident. (check, check, check)
2. Car dying at Shoe Carnival. (check )
3. Near death experiences. (check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check)

                     Yes, I noticed #3 is up to 8. I probably had more, but those are what I remember.


I have no idea why my bucket list veers off the opposite direction of what I write down. It's like the pen lies or something.

Because my mother won't approve of the language on these memes, I apologize in advance. I can say I have given two fucks today...to all of you. Really. I do care. You held me up during some of my darkest hours when I was just an anonymous cop blogger.

Again, I apologize for the vulgarity and snarky humor. Wait. Why do you keep coming back here?

Meanwhile, politicians continue to capture the spotlight. Pelosi's own people are turning against her and the headlines read that Republicans love her because she turns her own party toward conservatives? I don't know. I don't write the garbage. I just share it. It probably means I am part of the problem.

While all this was going on, I was schooling and writing articles. Here is the latest on Criminaljusticedegree.com about what to do after you become a cop. I am slowly working on books. I am transferring them from the stone tablets to digital documents with features. Not really, but it feels that way.

Healthcare protesters are getting crazy. Once you change or take away something people feel are "rights", then they get violent. Who is going to tell them it is not a right? Those are in the Bill of Rights. Some may have also been formed from case law, but I don't see any out there about healthcare yet. It's a sham. Let's just have free healthcare for everybody, government subsidizes all and doctors will all be paid the same. Yeah. I don't think it works that way. It sounded good at the time I wrote it except for all those little loopholes and exceptions I forgot to add. I don't have any solutions, I just point out the problems.

Me? Part of the problem? I'm slipping.

I have to watch what I say and text and type these days, because now you can be tried for crimes inciting tragedies. Case in point: Michelle Carter. Her texts were awful. Truly awful. I have no words. I can't even mind channel where she was coming from or what purpose did she serve? She sounded like one of those mean girls. The significance of her case is that it is now case law. Your words can have consequences: severe ones. I think maybe kids are too immature to have phones. We didn't have these issues when I was a kid. We had party lines and you certainly didn't want to air your laundry on the phone. It also took a long time to dial and wait, so by the time the process was complete, you forgot what you were going to say. Face to face communication was where most of that was at.

Of course the GOP shooting at the baseball game has flooded your news feed everywhere. I find it odd that the FBI ruled it just an assault and not a targeted assassination or domestic terrorist act. Hate crime? I don't know. Maybe they are trying to scale down these incidents. Next thing you know, they will be labeling them as an abandoned vehicle problem or malicious mischief. Disorderly conduct?

Check out this article on firearms safety. Quick! Read now before all thing warm and fuzzy that go bang become a hot topic of gun control again. Oh wait. Too late. You might see a pic of me on there somewhere. Enjoy the articles. Give me some feedback if you wish. Pass me around like a Thursday hooker.
It's true.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Twangled Are The Twords.

First let me say, may the Navy souls rest in peace who lost their lives on the USS Fitzgerald.
Bless all those survivors in the recent attacks and may those innocents who perished at the hands of evil rest in peace.

As for you bad guys, fuck you. I'm sick of your shit. I wish I could extinguish you myself.

While life is passing me by and world is going to hell, I calmly frantically study. Many days I am worried I am going to stroke out or seize up from anxiety. Any of those long forgotten days of undergrad have rapidly returned to me. I know. You are sick of hearing this shit and Fargo, just suck it up. I wish I could. I try. All I do is get fatter and more seized up. My exercise routine went by the way side and I have recently picked it back up and let me say that I have lost a LOT of progress. I digressed 10 years.

So, in order to make things better, I am going to conduct a squat challenge. It has no prizes except maybe a JLo booty in the end. I am challenging myself and you to do 100 squats a day for 30 days. Let me help you with counting. That is thirty, not 28, not 27, not 31. You don't get extra credit. Also, challenge is on to drink the right amount of water per day. That is usually 8-8oz glasses, but look it up for your body.

I can't do any of these challenges with my kiddo. My daughter needs help with calendar days. After getting her license, I told her she could not have any passengers (kids) in her car for 6 months. She yelled at me and said I was unreasonable and said "the law was 180 days, mom." I said, yeah, that's 6 months. She threw a fit and said I was lying to her.

Go figure it out, math wizard kid.


I suppose you are really sick of the melancholy posts and Sad Sack ways of Fargo as of late. Many of you may not even know who/what Sad Sack was/is? Google it. On the other note, I'm sorry. I have no interesting news.
Not really. That would make me sick.
However, some days,..

As I write this, I am also choking down a protein shake which is very chalky this morning. I hope it helps, because it was torture drinking the thing. They need to put accurate descriptions on their products: "Tastes like green chunky wet chalk going down with hints of berry and if not properly mixed will be like a sewage sludge going down the hatch which might catch on the esophagus causing you to heave. But it's oh so good for you." That's more accurate.

The national news is pretty doomsday if you ask me. Every channel, station, outlet conflicts another or spins a little more one way than the next. I can't even piece together the truth. I do think everyone hates the US right now until they get into a bind. It's super. It's like the nation of cops. Everyone hates you. We used to be the nation of firefighters and everyone loved us. I know. That is such a bad analogy.

I'm actually mad. Fat people get that way a lot. Maybe we should do a study on anger and see if it is attributed to obesity.

I'm mad because no one cares about the truth and I can't find it. If you think about it in cop terms, that's real anguish right there. Sometimes I shut off any searching for news and just wait for my phone alerts or Facebook to tell me what is going on. I think that is driving with blinders? Or the blind leading the blind?

Anyway, you get my drift. What does that even mean? I have no idea.

So idioms are/were oms created by idiots, thus making the word "idiom".  When you have multiple idiot oms, you call them idioms, plural, with an s.

If I call on Webster, the meaning is even more convoluted: "a group of words established by usage as having a meaning not deducible from those of the individual words."

It's no wonder all the kids have problems in school. 

So we spew out words which have meaning but the meaning is not deductible from the words. 

See what I mean? The struggle is real. 

And we keep using these idioms over and over and pretend to know what they mean? 

I am flabbergasted.

That has nothing to do with flubber or gas. 

I know. That wasn't an idiom.


I know that. 

Thursday, June 15, 2017

The Narc Ark

Here are some not so pretty memories. I wrote them all down even if I wasn't always in my finest moments. Sometimes, I was downright disgraceful. Like these moments when I was going through my divorce and trying to run a business and go to work and be a mom and run a place all by myself. I came to realize after months of trying, that I could not do it anymore.

I reported to my FTO sergeant that I was having problems staying awake as the passenger while training. When I drive, I am fine. When I ride...it's like rocking a baby to sleep. Especially...if we have a lull in crime. SQUIRREL and THE ROOK have been good about it and try to help me stay awake. Despite business checks, training exercises, and traffic stops...there are seconds in between where I just collapse.  I even told Sarg I might have narcolepsy.  Self diagnosed.

My new uniform sleeping chamber

THE ROOK: You were funny. You can sleep and still carry on a conversation.

ME: Awesome. I am so proud of myself.

THE ROOK: When I was typing my report, I asked  you if you spoke to that woman on the last call. You said, "Yeah. I spoke to the woman at the counter. I got her statement."

ME: Nice.

THE ROOK: Except we never were at a counter. We were outside in the yard.

ME: Thank God.


ME: I didn't remember being at a counter and if I told you I talked to a woman at the counter, I didn't remember a thing. I was starting to get very concerned about my sleep problem. Like I was sleeping while out there with citizens. Yikes.

THE ROOK: [giggling] You were sleeping and dreaming. In the Tahoe. And talking. Funny.

ME: *blink*blink*

THE ROOK: It's OK. I got your back.

ME: Yeah. But I don't have yours. I am getting pissed. I think it's the vehicle. The Narc Ark.


ME: Narcolepsy vehicle. The Narc Ark.

THE ROOK: *blink*blink*

I feel like Carl

THE ROOK: [hits me] Hey. We have a prowler call.

ME: Ok.

THE ROOK: I tried waking you up by going to 60 mph and then braking. You didn't even wake up.

ME: Super. Beat me.

THE ROOK: I tried that too.

ME: No, I meant this is killing me. I hate feeling like this. I hate falling asleep. It's to the point I need to drive and that isn't going to do you any good for training. Sleep or no sleep at home. It doesn't make a difference. It's the passenger in the car thing. And boredom. We have had eerily quiet nights.

THE ROOK: It's OK. I just think I'm Morgan Freeman driving Miss Daisy.

ME: You're white.

THE ROOK: Yeah. It's pretend.

ME: Nice.

Singing in my sleep

THE ROOK: You know what?

ME: What?

THE ROOK: I was watching you sleep while I wrote my report. You were reading that training manual and you fell asleep.

ME: Ugh. I am getting so mad at myself.

THE ROOK: You are so cute when you sleep.

ME: *head*dashboard*


THE ROOK: Look at you! Rockin' the pony tail today. I have never seen you with a pony tail. Only the high and tight up do.

ME: Dude, are you the fashion police?

THE ROOK: [Big cheesy smile] Nope. Just wondering if that will help you stay awake.

ME: *blink *blink* You are beating me at my own game. Now I know I am losing my powers.

THE ROOK: What powers?

ME: The force. It's not with me anymore.
Are we there yet?


ME: Oh, sorry. Forgot that show was before your time.

THE ROOK: Are we talking Harry Potter?

ME: *blink*blink*

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

The Nation Is Like A Balloon With A Pin Hole...Pssssss

According to the Census Bureau as of a minute ago there is approximately 325 million US persons. Some born every minute. Some die. But average...this number.

By June 18, we will all be dead by Virginia governor's calculations from "gun violence."

Yeah. I know. He made a mistake. It's still funny to make fun of and I will get mileage out of it.

Another shooting here. Another shooting there. It's all crazy out there today.

Can't anyone just duke it out in the playground anymore?

I watched Sessions testimony in the Senate Hearing. I thought he was forthright and I liked him. I didn't really have a very good opinion of him beforehand because he sat back and I felt he was too timid to be AG. Not any more.  That changed my mind.

Although, many of my liberal friends would disagree with that. It's funny how neither side can completely take off the biased glasses and we will never come to the middle. It's not really funny. It's really scary, actually.

After watching the hearings, it is clear the left and right are at war with each other and have lost sight of what is right and really only seek the truth if it fits their agenda, everything else is discarded because the square peg doesn't go in their round hole. Never mind finding the right peg.

I also understand the dynamics of the politics and positions these people hold. I think I will wait and see, but right now I could say with politician certainty they have nothing. What does that mean? I see no facts as of yet. Not sure if they will make up facts or cover up facts. Today, I have been shown nothing significant. Today it is crap.

It's all convoluted and clouded by rhetoric, partisan politics, and personal vendetta. This includes Comey who was in a position to be neutral and investigate according to FBI purpose. I feel he did not. I don't like his methods. I don't like his leaks. That really hit me in the guts.

I agree with Sessions that Comey did some things which were not good for the country and we needed a change. It doesn't mean Comey is a bad person, he just made some bad choices in judgement and should not be FBI director. This began long before Trump was president.

And the leaks.

Shut the fuck up already. Sessions is right. This is bad for our country. Bad, bad, bad.

I guess every spy has a price and there is no honor among thieves.


Did I see some issues? Yeah. I thought as the top lawyer he should have been sharper on some things, but I understand he was on careful ground because of his position and privileged information and the possibility of a protected relationship. If he said one thing, the left took it this way and the right took it that. It was nutso.

And shut up about Harris being singled out because she is a woman. She was singled out because of her processes and the fact she was badgering witnesses so they couldn't answer. It was a tactic. She is brilliant. She knows this. It's propaganda for an agenda. Stupid media and celebrity twist on that.

Additionally, McCain needs to go away. He needs to retire.
In more random news, I think Trump reads my blog. All except he ignores my heeds to stop Tweeting. The mainstream media reads it too. I can't tell you why. That would be a leak.

I don't know what will come of this, but I do agree with many of the experts that I think he cleared the air for himself and his position. I think he was right to fire Comey and his recusal and Comey's supervision...they are separate things.

Just like when I investigated a case where the DA's son was a victim and another when he was a suspect, the DA stayed out of it. RECUSED HIMSELF. That was back in the day of 2000. But he was there on other cases.

It's no different than when I investigated a direct supervisor's kid but the man continues to supervise me. Same. Many people have a problem with that, but it happens in law enforcement all the time. It's no fun, but it's there. In my case, it was even more fragile.

But the leaks. They gotta stop. Put some gum in it.

It's unbelievable.

If you think this is OK, then you are nuts.

And now as for the baseball field shooter today. Stop blaming Bernie. He is upset about it. He didn't orchestrate this person to go rogue. And never would.

That is an individual choice by a man fueled with uncontrollable rage, hate, and lack of self control and self awareness. You could have coffee with a guy  like that and suspect nothing and the next day he goes off. Or he could have had escalating behavior which was irrational and out of the norm. We don't know yet. And above all, it was an individual choice. This was not an organized act.

I can say that with almost 100% certainty, but I don't know. Why? Because I don't know the facts. I am just assuming we haven't gone that far in taking out those we oppose.

I like to believe even all the politicians are MOSTLY good people. That doesn't mean I like them. It doesn't mean that some are not crooked, because they are. But they are mostly good people.

If I believe otherwise, I might want to hole up in my fort.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Comey Is Not A Homie

So did you watch Comey testify? I did.

Did it enlighten you?

It did me. Some things were good. Some things were concerning. I tried to look at it with a neutral filter as a moment to get some truth. I don't know if the oath means anything to politicians and muckety mucks.

I didn't see any "smoking gun" to bring Trump down, but what did concern me were a few things:

1. Loretta Lynch's statements to Comey need to be investigated.
2. The smug attitude of Comey, like he felt he was David bringing down Goliath type smug were really bothersome.
3. Any of his testimony did not prove obstruction in my book, but I'm no expert.
4. I felt it actually helped clarify the frustration Trump was having with Comey not going public about no investigation into the president, but I also understand his position. However, why can't they just come out and say, "there is no investigation at this time." That leaves it open so you don't have to correct.
5. I saw Comey in a different light. I thought he was very stoic and honorable before. In the hearing I thought he lost a lot of credibility being a leaker and a snake. This disappointed me.
6. I also thought his statements about "if I were a stronger man," to be fluff. Come on, we hired a namby pamby as an FBI director? I don't buy it.
7. He seemed kind of flippant at times. That bothered me.
8. I saw both truthful expressions and liar expressions in his body language.
9. I think he really has a lot of disdain for the president.
10. I think he was justly fired.

11. I watched the entire hearing and I think the news watched something entirely different. Their reporting of it was atrocious and false. If you hadn't watched the hearings and relied on the news. Oh boy.
12. Comey looked at the hearing like a time of revenge, but also had a duty. It was a conflict even I saw and at one time, he did admit he was biased because he was fired. It was a humorous moment. I could see why the senators thought he was a good and honorable man, but had problems with some of the things he did.

I'm just kind of really disheartened about everything. I think the deep state exists. I think no matter if Trump did good or bad, there are so many out there to undermine him, I don't know if he would really have a chance.

And he does need to stop tweeting random shit and negative crap. If he just keeps it positive about his visits and speeches, then that will be nice. I think he feels his voice isn't heard, but what he forgets is those Tweets are hostile and don't help his image at all. In fact, it really tarnishes any good he might be doing when he pops off. He needs to shout it at the wall and then NOT memorialize it forever. I don't think he wants to go down as the craziest president around, but he is doing a good job with those tweets.

I think the media is really scary and they have turned into a manipulative monster...much more so than I ever thought.

Those are my takeaways.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Wheels Is Wearing The Pants In The Family

I think no one read my post yesterday or didn't dare comment because now I have drawn attention to myself with the NSA. Well, surprise! They have known about me for a long time. I expect one day they will offer me a job in the PR department. 

You laugh.

I know. They don't have a PR department.

However, they should give me a job anyway. I could work from home. I bet I could vet and monitor their people better than they do. 

The Harry Potter House is a protected fortress and they could throw the money saved from office space to give me a good alarm system (aside from the dogs). It's a thought. 

Secretly, I've always wanted to clear up my "record" and have the best credit in all the land, wipe out my bills. I think that's a good negotiation. A little traveling...a little spying on the non-spies...etc. Shit. Most of these idiots broadcast their intentions on Facebook. You can read a lot from someone's posts. I am wide open. At least they know what they are getting.

Never mind the NSA can't legally spy on Americans. Sort of. So what about it? Who needs the laws, right? LOL

In the meantime, while I wait for my cushy job offer, here is a Halloween story in the middle of June about Wheels. Enjoy. 

Running into houses, stealing, kidnapping, rape, and robbery. Hell...Cruella  was even drunk behind the wheel. Pursuits...foot and car...seemed to be taking a toll on our utility system. Three downed power poles and power lines in one week. Family fights. Drugs.

The only thing missing was the unspoken word.

 Because if you speak it, it happens.

 Especially during Halloween. Don't say it.

Wheels and I ran from call to call, picking up a few zombies and putting them in jail. Run out, run back. It was like a challenge from Survivor. A few got voted off the island. Then came the lull we all long for to catch our breath...silence. Crap. That's a bad word to think, write, and especially say out loud.

Opportunity. To. Take. A. Break.

Our g-ride finally made it to the station so I could work out. After running my circuit for about 25 minutes, I got a call from dispatch.

DISPATCH: Sarge said to call you out of break. He needs you to bring Wheels for a transport and help on a a call.  Now. Fast. He said to tell you to hurry.

ME: Ok. Are we the only units clear? What happened?

DISPATCH: Another pursuit.

ME: Ok.

So when the Sarge says "FAST" I just go. Like I am. In my shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes. Running down the stairs to the basement level, I grabbed my gun and badge and yelled at Wheels.

I was only thinking of the order, not the practical sense of being fully equipped and uniformed. Don't do this today. Yes, we can laugh now. 

WHEELS: Boss, you are in your shorts.

ME: Yep. No time. Let's go.

WHEELS: Ok. You can stay in the car. I will do all the work.

ME: *blink* blink*


ME: I'm the brains of this operation.

WHEELS: Well, right now you aren't wearing the pants. I am.

ME: Ok. Point taken.

When we arrived, the Sarge waved us over to his location by the suspect car. I exited in all my glory. Black workout shorts-gun-badge. Slightly resembling Barney Fife with my gun pulling down my shorts. Excellent example of a cop at their finest. Oh yeah, I almost forgot-workout hair. At least I had on designer clothing: UnderArmor shoes, Nike shorts, North Face t-shirt. Not exactly what a girl calls Matchy Matchy.

Because I support all the fashion lines, I had to sport all of them at once. A corporate advertisement. At least the colors matched. Black clothes...white shoes.

SARGE: What the..?

ME: They told me you needed us right away and to hurry. I can shoot just as good in my shorts as I can in my pants.

SARGE: Way to adjust, overcome, adapt.

ME: A little Barney Fife action going on here. [pulled up my shorts]
It was not like this. 

Officer Big Cheese had stopped a car on suspicion of drunk driving. The female driver bailed and soon after the male passenger fled. Big Cheese captured the driver and face planted her in a pile of leaves.

She was an old doper. I had had many cases in the past involving her with meth and her children. A fine figure of  motherhood. NOT. Now childless, since the State of Wyoming had permanent custody of hers, she had been filed as a Missing Person for quite some time-living off drug sales and thefts. Captured. And wanted. 6 warrants. Including delivery, manufacture, and possession of methamphetamine. And a new charge of possession.

It was a good catch.

METH HEAD MARY: What kind of cop are you?

ME: A super secret agent. We've been watching you a long time. Just waiting for the opportune moment. [So I was lying to her. What the hell? Again. Karma. We didn't have a clue of her whereabouts]

METH HEAD MARY: Why are you dressed like that?

ME: Because I blend.

METH HEAD MARY: Into what? The gym? You'd never find me there.

ME: Nah. I jog around. Haven't you seen me out there running? Surveillance.

METH HEAD MARY: [ thinking] Wait a minute. Maybe I have.

ME: See.

WHEELS: Boss, you are so naughty.

ME: Yes. That was an example of how not to be a smart ass on a call.

WHEELS: It's all good, Boss. She'll think we are always watching her. Paranoid doper.

ME: True.

Wheels was OK on his own and I went to the g-ride. My fun was over. Job was done. Mission accomplished. At least it's always good to have the dopers continue to be paranoid so they make mistakes. When they start using their own products, eventually, they find their demise. But why not add fuel to the fire?

 Soon...another officer became free so he could take Wheels' place.

ME: Come on, Wheels, I have to go get some pants on.

WHEELS: Dammit, I wanted to wear the pants just once.

And the night went on. Busy. Drunks. Dopers. Fights. And Wheels graduated.

SGT. DOWNTOWN BROWN: Well? Did he make it?

ME: Yep. He's all yours. Just needs some fine tuning and some molding. [big cheesy smile] Don't forget to throw him some balls.

SGT. DOWNTOWN BROWN: Great. Another Jack Russell.

ME: He's a good kid.

SGT. DOWNTOWN BROWN: He's going east, so you can mold him on nights.

ME: Good. We like ice cream.

SGT. DOWNTOWN BROWN: You're making the kid soft. He's a Marine. We don't eat ice cream.

ME: Wheels loves ice cream. Ken is groovy like that.


ME: Inside joke. 

Was Wheels the Ken model for Marine Corps Ken in 1991?

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Do You Need A Pad?

It's only Tuesday and I have a buttload of school work and research. I wish I could take the summer off work and just do school, but that would not pay the bills. Hence, a problem. I also have to write another article and I am stuck in crevice between two topics. These are real world problems.

In the meantime, our country (blanket treatment) has somehow gone from integrity among spies (yes, I use the term loosely) to having none and for some reason it is trendy to be a leaker. I thought this was only fashionable when you were a baby or in your geriatric years. But, apparently, I was proven wrong again...time and time again, which is alarming to me. For some, burning our country down because someone doesn't like the president or is trying to undermine the WH or for personal gain...ie. money, fame, or both...is more important than what you signed up for to protect.

NSA, do you need a pad? Damn embarrassing, I tell you.

If we don't slough off the face of the earth from diaper slippage first, then I would say we might not have any allies by the time we are done being leakers. Depends, I guess. Pun intended.

The other spin this is the media takes it as gospel even if it is just tagged info and not fully vetted.


Because it came from "top secret" places.

Well, so what. Wasn't she a little late to the party? Didn't we already know that? Or maybe I missed the boat. Who knows. But was it influencing by revealing truths? The Democrats never denied the emails weren't true.

Reality Winner. The name befitting. Winner, winner! I think she won jail.

My bathroom is top secret because I don't let you in there. Want to know something good? Too bad. I have scruples and some moral codes. Not many, mind you, but some.

I had garbage data at the police department on several cases. But it sounded juicy. if the press would have had access to all that garbage, I think it would have tainted jury pools and probably ruined some lives unnecessarily. That's why you have to vett it, find evidence, corroborate. Duh.

Come on, spies. Be a fucking viking. Where did you go to Spy School? And how do you screen your people, for Pete's Sake? I can't even get through the airport without giving a urine sample and they suck! Are you hiring beauty school dropouts? BTW, the best town information is found at the hairdresser's. Just saying. That stuff is actually worthy gossip.

I've never seen such a bunch of blind nincompoops (the media) eager to print whatever just to get a story out there only to be shown the next day it was a "so what" moment or proven false then they look dumb. Surprisingly, most citizens forget unless you pull a stunt like Kathy Griffin.

And the leakers. Can't you find something better? Like real stuff. It's not even interesting.

Maybe some of this stuff has been vetted and then it is leaked but has it been that huge? Not really. Or maybe I am just numb to sensationalism. But you get to go to jail anyway. Congratulations!

They gotta know they are going to be found out.

Here's the kicker.

Why is the NSA so slow to find out? Shouldn't they have found out in the first email or download that something was not going according to rules? Are they shorthanded or a bunch of boobs?

I really think they need to hire the mob to run things. At least they would be enviro-green when they incinerated the bodies. Wait. Are all mob affiliates liberals? Because that sounds a lot like...never mind. I won't say it. No leaks here.

Friday, June 2, 2017

The New Hans and Frans

Remember SNL's Hans and Frans? It's fake. People aren't like that really. This is the cop version of the show. 

I stumbled upon a journal entry from patrol days. Drug addicts in the later stages of their lives are not purty. There is no other way to describe them except for what is observed. Drug addiction is not pretty either. In fact, it is horrendous and painful for the person and everyone associated with them. The below story is very real in trying to draw a picture of the smells and sights in front of me. And ode to the best frequent flyers, "One-Eyed Susan" has since passed on.

My sergeant and I respond to a family fight which took us to two addresses. Suspect and victim. They were separated prior to the call which was a good thing. That way we were not in the middle of a domestic and they had time to cool off.

Walking my way to the suspect's house, One-eyed Susan (not like the flower), I was preparing to speak to her. Upon approach, I saw a car blacked out and parked caddywhompus on the sidewalk with two subjects slumped down in the front seat. Now, the family fight turned out to be bogus, so these fellers were a must see. My attention got diverted. The Popo can't ignore criminal activity afoot or acar.

We snuck up on them and I shined the light into the car. They started the engine. Perhaps they thought they would make a fast getaway.  I was about to slam my flashlight on their car and tell them to STOP when the car died. Thank God for jalopies. But it was sad I didn't get to have a foot chase involving a car. I might have beat this one.

The two were fumbling around in the car, putting things under the seat, and shaking like leaves. This is what we call a CLUE.

So, after I told them to sit up in their seats, I immediately recognized them as Frick and Frack...a couple of old dopers. When I say old, I mean one is 40's and the other is 60's. That's old for a doper.

They both have been in the dope business for over 20 years. After talking to them for a while, we both realized the shaking like a leaf thing we observed in the two men was probably meth induced. And they had secretly (well as secretly as they could muster) stuffed a bindle of meth into a pack of cigarettes and it was sticking out of the package. I do have observations skills, especially when it is right in front of me.

So, the Sarge asked, "What's in the cigarette pack?" 

No response. In fact, an awkward and.long pause of silence ensued. We asked them again. Nothing. Not even a word. The two appeared stumped. This was captured on video...see snapshot below:

Sarge asked, " Who's cigarette pack is in the console?"

Both responded that it wasn't theirs and they didn't know to whom it belonged. I told them they both had the same kind of cigarette in their hand and were smoking them. I found it odd. They looked at their cigarettes and said, "What? Huh? Oh, we borrowed these." 

Egads, this was going to take all night. 

So, we asked them if it wasn't their cigarette pack, could we see it? 

Long pause of silence. No response. 

We asked again. They shrugged their shoulders. 

Frick said, "Well, it isn't mine, so I don't know. " 

Frack replied, "Not mine. Don't know anything about it." 

So I thought I would razzle dazzle them with logic and said, "Well, if they aren't yours, then you don't mind if I see them?" 

Frick puzzled, "Well, I don't care. Frack, it's your cigarettes. Do you care if I give 'em to her?" 

Frack panicked at Frick's response but continued, "They're not mine.Go ahead." 

Frick handed the cigarettes to me. And yes, it was a bindle of meth. Ta da!

So, while I was examining the cigarette pack, my Sarg asked them how they were doing which was just conversation starter "ice breaker" type chit chat. 

Frick told us he was doing swell, just celebrated his kid's first birthday.

I broke out in song..."Stop the music..."Did you say 1st? As in your kiddo is one years old?"

Frick said, "Oh, yeah. We just had a party." 

Me thinks to myself...yikes...and then this visual pops in me head:

I know. It was a mean thought, but when you see the environment and parental species, you don't think of regular cute babies.

Egads. I needed to focus on my dope bust. 

We moved away from small talk and asked them what they were doing in that particular spot. 

Frick volunteered, "Oh, we came to party with One-Eyed Susan." 

The two ended up getting arrested. We couldn't let a felony meth bust just go by the way side. In the middle of Miranda (not a girl...but a declaration of rights), One-Eyed Susan showed up. She focused on my Sergeant and we were all aware of her infatuation and she loves him. He is the apple of her one eye. Ack! I know. Mean. Cops are cynical and means sometimes. It keeps us sane or something. 

One-Eyed Susan is very vocal, always making a fuss. It's her nature. We are used to it. She was really upset her two party men weren't going to take her out on the town. 

Now, she is not a spry young thing either. According to Susan, they were going to "get it on". Lord have mercy. I'm guessing the boys had to take some Viagra (meth) before the party. I didn't want to know and I didn't ask and I surely should not have had that visual in my head. 

In the car, Frack and I talked about the party. He told me that meth makes him last for hours and he can have wild, crazy sex and he can't help it. Imagine the things cops learn in the patrol car. It's like going to the beauty shop only better.

I told him I have heard that before but the after effects were not worth it. 

"Like what?" 

I said, "Like jail, like losing your teeth, your hair, your wits. Like it makes you brain damaged, causes permanent schizophrenia, makes you stupider (that is a word), and scabs form, you see bugs, you lose your job, you become a crack ho, etc. Do you get my picture?" 

"Well, yeah, but that one time..." 

I said, "Like that one time in band camp ....when the cop busted my stupid ass before I could get it on... and now I'm going to the pen...and I have Bubba stuck up my ass kinda time?" 

Frack said, "Well...yeah...I guess." 

"You guess?" 

Well, the conversations only got better. And at the jail, it was like old home week. The old jailers remembered Frick and Frack on their first bust 20 years ago. And they all yucked it up. Fun was had by all except Susan. No One-Eyed Susan orgies. Today, we prevented another Frickle or Frackle from entering the world and taking after mom and pop. Drugs and crime are generational and taught in the home. Sometimes we can save one child or a child saves themselves. But it really is a sad deal.  It's a war out there. 

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Audrey Hepburn Was Not My Grandmother

Today we are going to talk about grandmother. Not everyone's grandmother, but one of mine. Why? Because it really hit home to me today when I realized how much we have strayed from the path of good and narrow. What do I mean by that? I am talking about the way it is today.
No, this is not my grandmother.
It is Audrey Hepburn. Close enough. 

My grandma was a hard person to get to know. But, you know me, I could talk to anyone, so I broke those barriers down by the 20 bazillion questions a kid asks. Over time, I think she grew to find me amusing and my curiosity was cooler than a cat's.

All through the years, I could sense a distance from Uncle Paul and dad to their parents. They respected them, but it wasn't the gushing love story of my mother's family. If I didn't hear my dad with my own ears call his parents "mom and dad", I would have guessed he would have addressed them as "mother and father." I didn't really get that until I was older. As a young child, I was taught to respect all elders and automatically accepted another set of grandparents as cool and interesting.

Grandpa was a sports fanatic which went along with his coaching. He also was influential in Native American culture in South Dakota and mentoring them in sports. I think he inherited that from his parents and grandfather.

Grandma dressed to the nines and always wore a wig. She never went out in public looking like a slob and always accessorized. But, the wig thing was a childhood mystery to me. I don't know why she continued with that even after the wig generation was over. I would catch myself staring at it to see if it would move. I studied her head often. I don't think I ever saw a wig hair out of place and that was probably thanks to many cans of Aquanet or wig glue.
Wig glue? Sound right.

Grandma went through the depression and was very, very frugal. In fact, I think my dad and brother felt slighted at holidays because she and grandpa would not part with funds for those train sets. They also felt grandpa gave more attention to the sports teams he coached than his own boys. They were athletic, but really didn't get on the overkill sports wagon. They did not follow in either parent's footsteps. Instead, both of them were military bound, not by choice mostly, and dad went to the Army while Uncle Paul went into the Air Force.

When I was a kid, I read many of the letters dad and Paul had sent to grandma. In fact, letters were a big deal to them. She and grandpa sent me very detailed stories over the years. I wish I still had all of them. Sadly, most were discarded after I read them a couple times.

Grandma shared her son's letters with me and showed me the foreign gifts they had presented to her. Maybe she didn't share her feelings with them, but she was very  proud of her boys and felt they were strong. But what was lacking was affection. It was as if it were a business transaction she was speaking of. It wasn't until years later, this deeply saddened me and was brought to surface when my dad or uncle spoke of their feelings about things as kids. When dad got cancer, grandma was always worried about him and checked with me to make sure he was getting his vegetables and grill me about stuff maybe my parents didn't disclose to her because she was a worry wart.

But anyway, enough of the backstory. So it was around my later teens when grandma started to panic and contact dad by means of odd phone calls. These calls were out of breath and in typical emergent fashion when someone has an adrenaline dump after a big moment.

"Bob, did you hear that Bo Derek has herpes? Who is that anyway, anyone I should know? I think it is deeply concerning that anyone would tell the world about it. You know what else? I really called because you should find another wife, Bob, they say love can prevent heart attacks. You have cancer. You don't need other problems."

Those who don't know my dad, would have missed him covering the phone mic and stretching himself as far as he could go with the cord and whisper to me, "You're grandmother has fucking lost it." The look in his eyes was despair because we had to do something like put her in a home.

We were in Wyoming and she was in South Dakota. That could not happen over night.

So, dad got off the phone and called Uncle Paul letting him know his mother had lost it and he was going to try to secretly contact his dad and talk to him. It did not work according to plan.

"Son, your mother has been reading some newspaper and coming to me with all these stories. I got quite bored with it and told her to call her children." Grandpa went on to talking about the latest game on the television and threw some more in there about his coaching days.

My dad was very frustrated. He eventually learned my grandmother was reading The National Enquirer like it was the gospel and Jesus Christ had sent it himself. He couldn't believe it. No matter how many times grandma was told it was a tabloid and yellow journalism, she did not listen and believed all of it was real.

Why? Because she grew up in a time when people were not allowed to lie to the public through journalism. They had responsible reporting and rules. Now things had changed and she didn't understand that, so she continued about her way in her isolated bubble. She absorbed all those quick blurbs in the grocery aisle until she subscribed to the magazine. My dad was so mad. I think he was mostly embarrassed and didn't want to be bothered by Bo Derek's herpes outbreak.

And now we have "fake news" as our president calls it. But what has happened, really? Simple answer:  Our political systems have taken over and control journalism. Responsible reporting is hard to pinpoint. And oh, so many leaks. I mean seriously, the White House is no longer a fortress of secret information, but a water bottle blasted by a shotgun in preparation for Zombie training.

I chuckled yesterday when I read that the president had told several confidants about his wavering of the Paris agreement and climate change. Ok. Those confidants are shit, Mr. President. They told everyone. Or did he orchestrate that?

I don't get too stirred up anymore because time and time again the mainstream media is proven a fool or putting the camera up granny's skirt only to expose they have perverted the truth. I don't even know what that means. Anyway, it sounded like a good analogy at the time. I'm going to leave it there and think about it. Well, maybe not. Granny's skirt, cameras, and perversion is not a good combo.

There are still a small few out there trying to do justice to their story and I hope it is those honest journalists who catch a big story and launch their careers. As for the others, may they vanish from the kingdom and be heard of no more. I know. You are thinking it sure would be quiet on the boob tube.

But you get it, right?

I think it's sad. Here we are spoon fed a bunch of garbage and no matter how much we deflect and try to mitigate it to find the truth, we all still absorb some of that garbage. Are we believing the right piece?

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Light Bulb Lessons, A Gun Review, and Nomenclature Rules

This is an unsolicited review of the Smith & Wesson  M & P Shield 9mm. It's brutal. I'm blunt in response to everything and everyone. My first duty weapon was a S &W 3953. Nice, nice. I miss that gun. I want it back and might offer the dude some day. However, upon departure with it, I have grown to really love Glocks which I know is passe and so ordinary.

It's cute, right? This is not the gun I fired, btw. Photo credit: GunsAmerica
Many light bulb lessons occurred during a recent trip to an indoor gun range. Yes, it was in one of those armored pods. Very cool. Except the AC didn't work fast enough. But I'm not here reviewing the pod.

Rule of thumb for range day. You need ammo. Don't forget to bring it. Some people might call these "bullets." In case you are wondering, if you forget your ammo you got at a good price, gun shops will sell you some but they jack it up when they realize you forgot it because they know you are desperate. It's called supply and demand emergency. Not really. That was an attempt at economics humor. 

This isn't just any ordinary review. This is a review based upon my preferences and likes and dislikes. I will explain in detail, but you might disagree with me. You might hate on this, but that's OK.

I think for the first time in my life, I looked at reviewing firearms in a totally different light. That is not what I mean by light bulb lessons. Watch. And. See.

As a side conversation, I don't know why gun manufacturers put paperwork and manuals in there for us to read. I like videos. Reading makes me fall asleep. I know. It's about liability and some brain surgeons would rather read a manual. I get that. I will use mine for taking up closet space.

First of all, I'm going to get past semantics. I am over the nomenclature rules. Fuck that shit. Use your own words. I don't care. Now to be clear,  many people ban or frown upon using the words "handgun"or "gun". Military gurus think different devices running through their heads like lollipops when you use the word "gun". It probably means a lot of different things to each person. That's not the point. The word firearm probably does the same thing. Or maybe the word "gun" is too lazy for you and only applies to those who don't know how to use them. Perhaps you prefer the word "sidearm" for pistol. So anyway. Fuck the gun guru rules. We're here to talk about bang bang devices. All of them. All the words. Who gives a shit about the nomenclature. That was a statement, not a question.

So what do you like about firearms? You might like different things than me, so don't take this as the gospel. It's all preference.  I do what I like. If you don't like, don't like. It's a free country.

The ammunition of choice on this day of ammo blasting was Speer Lawman 124 grain. Yes, it was an expensive day. Ammo gone. Like a lot of it. Similar to a fart in the wind. Only gunpowder smells a lot better.
This is the type of ammo, but not exact boxes.
Why? Because we used it all up,  duh!

Anyrambling, back to the S & W Shield. Just to preface this post, I have zero pics of my day with Smith and Wesson. I went with the boss. He bought it with me at the gun shop about a month prior and didn't want to shoot it until I helped him understand safety and stuff. It was time to break wind...I mean blast.

It looks cool, it's light, it's small for carrying purposes. It's easy to conceal. I really like that part.

So first order of business is handling and familiarizing yourself with your weapon. Do it. Got it? Good. This of course is without ammo. EMPTY. Figure it out. And if you can't figure it out, Google or YouTube it.

I've had to do that a few times when shit goes wrong or when I am stuck in processes.

The day started off with the gun shop dude eyeballing my Glock 19c. Get yer mitts off my goods, sir.

"What kind of magazines are those? I've never really seen ones like that."

I looked at him like he was an alien: the green type.

"Uh. Regular kind. They go in there and it goes pew pew just like any other Glock."

"No, I mean they are 13."

"No, they are 15."

"Oh. How did you get those?"

"What do you mean, how did I get those? At a gun shop."

"You can't get those."

By now I'm thinking he is going to call the cops and report me. I'm really leary of strange new persons.

"I used to be a cop."

"Oh. That explains it."

Weird. At that point, I was about to hide my weaponry, but they insisted on inspecting it before firing. Next time, I will bring a throw down Hi-Point so they don't judge me or try to take my magazines away. I could hide my Glock in my bag. They don't stick around to watch you shoot. They just inspect and leave.

Once he left, we started to die of heat sweats because the AC was slow to cool the metal box. But we didn't care because there were red lights and shit and it was cool in there.

Now I've read a lot about the Shield and have had questions answered by a few friends. Everyone seems to rave about it. So, naturally, this made me excited about it. It is not ambidextrous. Just saying. Right handed only.

So the Shield is full of surprises for me. Mostly, how do I operate this fucking thing? I mean to tell you, there are too many safety precautions and widgets on this thing that by the time I figured it out I would already be dead. Looking down from heaven, I would watch the cops fidget with the firearm and then an aha moment would occur. Yes, I was really frustrated at first. I had to YouTube that shit.

The first 20 minutes were very embarrassing moments for me because that normally doesn't happen when I get a new gun in front of me. I looked pretty stupid when I wanted to use the damn thing and it was only as good as a club.

Dropping the magazine is easy. Ok? Anyone can do that.

It's a small gun, so it's nice for small hands. Guys, I don't want to know. Just don't talk about the size of your hands. Ladies, you can feel free to discuss that because it doesn't apply to us.

Pulling and releasing the slide is a little tricky dicky and this one was stiff like a dead man. Poppin' it like a top isn't always going to happen. The slide locked and got stuck and the releasy thingy didn't work as planned. There is a little trick and some finesse.

And of course Smith and Wesson are kinder to you when you are empty rather than full of magic bullets.

This video is showing you the insertion problem I had. I'm used to giving that magazine a good shove and maybe an extra. Tactical training, you know.

Let me just say, don't forget a new firearm is stiff as hell and needs some attention before you use it, like fucking oil. The Shield magazines can be over inserted. Oopsie daisie. Fuck yourself in the ass. Don't do that.

Another issue I found was that it has too many safety precautions and widgets on it for me. Fuck you, you gun control freaks! The Shield answered the liberal cries for help. I hope you don't die because you are too slow and you have to switch all the safety doohickies before your fire. I don't like the safety. It's too hard for me to use in speedy time. I would leave it off. *gasp* I know, right? No safety. Well, the Glocks don't have one either, scaredy cats.

Here's a viewpoint from an OK hick.

Speed reloading that thing in a hurry would be a bitch if the slide didn't drop and just stayed stuck there. Just saying. That happened a lot. Why? Because this was the first time the boss handled a weapon and it was eye opening to watch someone who had no knowledge struggle with things we gun gurus take for granted as a muscle memory. And when I tried it? I was worried about over inserting it again and wussy loaded it.

So yeah. Be familiar with your weapon. We created stovepipes and bad jams and scenarios just to practice with it. We both became familiar with the weapon and once we did that, it was a nice firearm. In the beginning, I hated the bastard. So did the boss.

After we were all done, I gave my Glock to the boss and told him to handle it and shoot it. He said, "Wow, that was a lot easier and nicer."

Ok. It's really not fair to compare a new stiff gun to a nicely worn and loved one.

The boss is an excellent shot. He's a very left leftist and I was really proud of his willingness to learn and practice. He said he was going to properly store it and practice many times. We have future range times. I gave him some tips to go home and take the gun apart several times and dry fire a lot.

So am I sold on this? Yeah. I would recommend it as a good carry option. It's a great priced device and a really nice firearm. It's made very well. It's easy to conceal. I can push the safety off if I don't want it on. Will I be purchasing my own? Not sure yet.

I'm a little partial to Glocks and really would rather have a 42 or a 43 as a backup.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Wake Up, Fools!

Here is a list of some pet peeves. Why? Because. I felt like sharing. You're welcome!

1. I really hate the fact that Soros is funding all these DA positions all over the United States in a way for him to "reshape the justice system" according to his liking. I mean, not only do I hate it, but it scares me to death. That man is really, really dangerous. People don't think so, but money can really buy you things. Some things are dangerous. What does that mean? Something nefarious, no doubt.  Cops will fry. I'm sure it includes burning all officers at the stake. You should pay attention to this. Wake up, fools! Not you. The other guys. You should sleep with one eye open. Why? Watch his reformative justice take over sentencing parameters and people will nary go to jail. Why? Because if we hold their hands, they won't be so bad. Now, I think restorative justice is necessary, but you need to do it wisely and those who do really bad should do their just time and not be slapped on the wrist.

2. I can't stand the liberal agenda on wolves. They spread lies. And many of them are in nice articles of peace in the high country and pat ourselves on the back type of shit. People believe them because they don't know what is really going on there, so they are spoon fed propaganda which they absorb as the truth. It's bullshit. Happy park. Happy animals. My ass. If you really want to know what is going on in the west, you should live there or shut thy mouth. The wolves are out of control. Herds of wild life and livestock are devastated every year. Wake up, fools! Yeah. I said it. I am mean like that. Not you. The other people.

3. Assholes. I know too many. I wish there was a shampoo to wash them away like flea and tick stuff. Or something.

4. The news. It sucks. Everywhere.

5. The perma frown on my forehead. It's making perma wrinkles. Gah.

6. I don't like being forced to live where I don't really want to live. I want to retreat to a high mountain area where I can shoot wolves and make a coat. Not really. That was just funny as hell, though.

7. I hate one of my classes right now. I am getting bad grades and I think my professor hates me too. It's sad really. I am a very nice and good student. Sigh.

8. I can't stand mouthy kids or disrespectful kids. I don't know how to change it. The parents are way messed up these days. That includes me. Our generation failed America. True story. We did it. Now we are griping about it. Ironic much?

That's enough today. Oh, yes. There is more. Most times I am pretty laid back but today I am pissy like a cat.

I know. I'm whining.


I will go now.

Friday, May 19, 2017

And the Ghetto cried...Hey Cop!

As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
And his mama cries

We went predator hunting one day. Sex Offender Registry. Address Checks. Banjos Playing.

We checked 43 of them. Beat me. No wait, not in those words, they just sound naughty.

Anypervert, we checked about 20 when we ran into two very well built strapping handsome 30 year olds in the middle of a rundown part of town who stopped us at our patrol car.

JIM GYM: Officers, could you help us with this Nebraska citation I got for no proof of insurance?

PUNKY BREWSTER: Nope. We don't mess with out of state things.

ME: [whack to Punky's left arm] What can we help you with, sir?

JIM GYM: I'm afraid I'm late on this fix it ticket.

ME: We better run you for warrants, then.

JIM GYM: [hesitant] Well...

ME: You aren't going to run, are ya? Cuz, you looked like you were going to run.


EXERCISE EDDY: Oh, he  thought about it.

ME: I'll give ya a 7 foot head start.

EXERCISE EDDY: Taser. [laughing]

JIM GYM: Oh hell no.

ME: Come on. We need the training.
I miss my Punky Brewster. 

So...we listened to their horror popo story of getting pulled over in Nebraska, then ran both of them because they wanted to make sure Nebraska didn't have any warrants for them. They were college grads working on their master's degrees. Seems the oil company they interned with had provided them housing and they monitored gas drilling every day for their studies. They were clean cut, went to the gym as much as they could, and appeared to be very nice, seemingly normal men.

ME: So...what are you two doing living in the hood? Seems like you don't belong here. It's like Sesame Street puzzles...one thing doesn't look like the other.

EXERCISE EDDY: Yeah. We got the shaft from our company. Put us up in the ghetto. We shut ourselves inside and lock everything up every day.

ME: Nice. Well, have a nice day. OH. I almost forgot. The Boogie Man lives next door to you, so be careful.

EXERCISE EDDY: [points to a neighbor house] Harrold?

ME: If that is what he calls himself these days. [It was a random popo scare tactic, I just made it up. I don't even know if Harrold or any of their other neighbors were the Boogie Man] Have a great day.

JIM GYM: Thanks.[weak smile]

Punky and I got into the car and I looked over the list of sex offenders.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Now there were two nice looking ones for you to date.

ME: Moving on with the perverts. [looking at my list]

PUNKY BREWSTER: [sigh] I can't wait to tell the boss I found two nice good looking men for you and you looked down at the sex offender list and said, "moving on with the perverts "

ME: Yep.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Have you noticed today all the sex offenders answer the door without shirts on.

ME: Yep. It's disgusting. Lots of moobs out today.

We made a citizen contact on the street. Punky and I thought the contact was very disturbing and it made us contemplate things later in life...like how your tattoos look when you are old. I told her I wouldn't care about my tats at that age. However, plastic surgery was another thing. The citizen contact really made me do a double take on any aspirations of plastic surgery I might have had.

PUNKY: That freaked me out.

ME: Me, too. They were like all up in my face, pointing at me.

PUNKY: Ew. What am I going to do?

ME: Well, I can tell you one thing, I am not going to be your friend when you are 70. I don't need anything all up in my face when I try to wipe the drool off your chin.

PUNKY:  That was disturbing.

ME: Yes. I might have nightmares.

So...we met a 70 year old woman who didn't wear a bra. She didn't have to. She was perky. A size double D and perky at 70. Fake boobs. It was scary. I wish I had pics to share of this old woman with perky boobs, but it was too traumatizing. Just picture it. Or don't. Oy.

It was dark with no street lights. We were later assigned to foot patrol in the trailerhood. All of a sudden, a dark Suburban with limo tinted windows jumped the curb and stopped at my feet...and my gun... drawn ready to shoot the drunk idiot that tried to run me over. As we aimed for the window that was rolling down, we  were greeted with a site.

It was someone from Montana we did not know who apparently liked to get right up in the popo's face to ask a question. Or perhaps the person had a death wish. I don't know. He might have peed himself at the sight of our Glocks. Our show of force was quickly deflated as we were just looking at an idiot that had no regard for personal space or officer safety. If he had been anywhere else, he would have been toast.

Anyfreakshow, the driver wanted to ask about the safety of our ghetto as several officers had been noticed in the area. The driver's bling was bedazzling us along with the long black shiny hair, bright red lipstick, and long fingernails....and very large bosoms. We weren't looking there, they just appeared in our faces. I then was asked a barrage of questions regarding my hair and makeup choices and asked some tips. The driver departed after blowing us kisses and thanking us for our time.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Was that a drag queen?

ME: Yep. Never seen him around here, must be a new one.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Huh. He's something else. Crazy.

ME: It's the ghetto. Isn't it great? We didn't even have to shoot anyone, just exchanged makeup tips.

PUNKY BREWSTER: Yeah. That's what scares me. We almost got killed  over makeup tips.