Evidence 101

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

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Pork Sausage

People ask me if I miss cop work. Every single day. 

People ask me if I ever reflect on my police calls, people, places. Every single day.

It isn't that I am pining for the job or even mourning its loss. Just reflections of fondness and little things can spark a memory. 

Now more than ever, I realize my training was so critical to the recruits. I know there were days or even months where I was not 100 for them and many times I was downright worthless. I worked two full time jobs and lacked sleep. Sometimes I fell asleep in the passenger side because the motion of the car has ALWAYS put me to sleep, but worse when I lacked proper snoozing time. That's when I reported myself to my supervisor. At the time, he was very disappointed, took it up the chain. I didn't get disciplined, but they didn't take me off training either. I had to do the best I could. 

Thankfully, they understood my personal dilemma and my needs to salvage what I had of my life at home and with my personal business. But it came at a cost to my profession. Later, I chose my profession and closed the personal business. 

The realization of my errors makes me regret that I wasn't better. I went through a divorce (22 years with Bug's father) and a miscarriage during some training times which really gave me head damage. No one really takes into account those things because you aren't supposed to bring your baggage to work. Well, that's a nice perfect world, but it isn't true life. I asked for breaks and so did others, but we were all denied despite our various reasons because we were so short handed.

So it is what it is and has become. People got let go because they weren't cut out to be cops. Nothing I could have done or said would have changed that. And that is how it should be. But for the ones who passed their training, I could have served them better. 

If I can leave anything to forward to administrators and trainers it is that they should be in top form and if not, realize a break is needed. Monitor your people. It is necessary for the trainer and the organization. More importantly, make sure fair is fair to the recruits. They expect the best. Administrators need to be on top of those requests and know that a trainer who recognizes they aren't top notch and need a break should be evaluated carefully for the better of the department. A department cannot afford to make this kind of sacrifice just because they are short-handed. 

I think administrators lose sight of the big picture sometimes or maybe they have so much faith in that trainer that they think he or she will pull it through. Trainers are human. They also can generate human errors. It is critical to organizational success to have them all in prime condition mentally and physically. 

As a trainer, there are times you get a very endearing young person as a rookie, but they just are not street wise. In fact, you can see early on they have to make great strides to overcome things or they are just not cop material in the first place. It is almost always that obvious. Some are salvageable and we do go leaps and bounds to get them training needs. But you really need the right people. 

These candidates I speak of above, passed the test and have dreams of grandeur to be a savior to people and put on the uniform with pride. That part is the cool part. I had those feelings when I first started and the uniform pride continued until the last day. I don't know if I was really street wise at first, but I knew how to read people and detect criminal activity right out of the gates. I loved problem solving.

Some rookies are dangerous. Some are just dense in the head. These are the ones who need to be terminated as soon as possible. Of course, it has to be justified and documented. 

Additionally, some rookies just aren't cut out to be cops because they are true bleeding hearts. They cannot fathom nor see nor detect evil. They miss criminal action unless it is blatant. They cannot even sense suspicious activity. Some are just academically intelligent and are fit for other careers. They are in a world of blissful ignorance but only because they are darlings. I have had my share of darlings. 

I loved this rookie in the mother sense and loved his good heart, but I knew early on, despite his wishes, he would not be cut out to stay a cop. He did well, generally, even in dynamic calls, but I could tell it was too much for his psyche. He really had no idea about the street side nor really grasped hints of danger. 

And what mother would want the purest of hearts to be cynical and jaded for the rest of their lives? I kind of liked his innocence. It was a sign that kids were still raised right and the 1950s existed. 

After he left the department, I would see him around town and we had great reunions and hugs and laughter. He even anonymously bought me a Starbucks in the drive-thru one day. I chased him down to thank him and he was the same happy kid. He is very intelligent. I always wished him well and I know he has and will continue to do good...just not in police work.  

That was one we saved for his mother. He was restored to normalcy. 

But on this day...he was in training...with me...

Late night lurking.

He doesn't do it very well...but he does try.

Pretty soon...a loud noise grabbed our attention to the left. A speeding motorcycle. Most of the time, bikers enjoy riding around our vast neighborhoods and mountain roads. However, at this time of night, we usually get teased by pursuits. Well, we used to because a directive came out that we were not to pursue them in most circumstances because of the danger to them and others going over 150 mph. There was a group of them out there riding together teasing the PoPo. The problem is they knew we couldn't pursue them unless circumstances elevated above a misdemeanor, so they ruled the streets.

Sausage at first ignored this motorcycle rider. He was the only motorist on the road at 2 AM. Hello! It should grab your attention at least for a look-see because it is the ONLY thing on the road.

ME: Seriously? You aren't going to follow him?

SAUSAGE: Well, he was going fast. I guess I could.

ME: He was going about 40 in a 30.

SAUSAGE: How can you tell?

ME: We are all trained in speed estimation. It's a matter of whether or not you use it. Go after him.

SAUSAGE: He's about a mile down the road.

ME: How fast are you going?

SAUSAGE: About 60 mph.

ME: And  you're not catching him. He is speeding up. Probably saw you. Go after him.

SAUSAGE: I have no reason to stop him.

ME: *blink*blink*

SAUSAGE: What do I have?

ME: My speed estimation, no visible registration...oh looky there...he's swerving in both lanes of traffic. He's probably drunk.

SAUSAGE: I don't think I have enough.

ME: I'm gonna slap a bitch.
Me...trying to avoid saying cocksucker

Soon, we were closer to the motorcycle which accelerated even more and the dude swerved all over the road when we got about two car lengths behind him. It was apparent he was going to hurt someone if we didn't stop him and he was trying to outrun us.

ME: Pull him over.

SAUSAGE: I don't have enough.

ME: Pull him over before he kills somebody...NOW!

Activating our lights had no effect; the dude kept going and ignored our disco show. I pushed the siren..like one little hi-lo and an air horn bleep.

Crash. Beautiful. Wreckage.


Even though he wrecked his motorcycle...mechanical carnage everywhere...he was fine. Standing up and scratching his head, he faced me. Bloodshot, dilated eyes. Smell of a brewery. And...swaying... with pee pee pants. We call those clues. Very drunk this man was, Yoda. Or it was the new age of motorcycle driving with wet pants and bug eyes. Maybe it was a summer thing since they didn't have air conditioning on those rides. Well, I guess the wind in your face would be somewhat considered an air coolant of sorts.

We talked to the man. Sure enough. He came from a bar...had a lot to drink...slurred his words...couldn't get anything out of his wallet. He looked like a character out of Mad Max. Yes, I'm dating myself. But he was.

Crazy hair. Jeans. Black boots. Face grime. Big, furry mustache...like a squirrel on his face. It could have been a pet squirrel.  It was hard to tell. Big ass glasses. Actually... big ass glasses are the first sign of a pedophile. But in this instance...Mad Max character. He looked like a Festus, although his name was Robert. Names were not changed to protect the guilty.

ME: What happened there?

ROBERT: [holding a piece of handlebar] Put the brakes on too hard.

ME: Hmm. Sure it wasn't because you were impaired?

ROBERT: What's impaired mean?

ME: Super. Why don't you talk to SAUSAGE here. I think he speaks your language.

SAUSAGE: Now. How much did you have to drink at the bar?

ROBERT: 4 beers.

SAUSAGE: How long ago was your last one?

ROBERT: I guzzled two about an hour ago.

So Sausage went through the routine questions. Then he went back because he forgot some questions...standard ones...or something.

SAUSAGE: How big were they?


SAUSAGE: The beers.

ME: Big enough to make him pee his pants. Or did the PoPo scare you?

ROBERT: I think I did that when I wrecked.

ME: Aha.

SAUSAGE: I didn't even notice. You did pee your pants.


SAUSAGE: All be darned. Is that uncomfortable?

ROBERT: A little wet.

SAUSAGE: How can you pee your pants? Don't you know when to go?

ROBERT: Yes. I was scared. Couldn't control it.

SAUSAGE: I don't understand. Couldn't you hold it?

ROBERT: I tried. It just came out.

SAUSAGE: How long was it before you realized you peed your pants?

ROBERT: I dunno.

SAUSAGE: Isn't that gross? I mean...especially when the temperature goes from warm to cold. And you peed a lot. Is it cold now?

ROBERT: Yup. It's a little cold and wet.

SAUSAGE: Did it go down to your boots? Because it looks like it did. There's a trail and all.

ROBERT: Maybe, not sure. Have to take my boots off and check.

SAUSAGE: Are you going to keep those boots after you peed in them?

ME: Oh for the love of Harriet. As interesting as this conversation is...I think I will interrupt.  Sausage, he's drunk. You lose control of those things when you're drunk. And then he wrecked. Whether or not Mr. Robert here peed before or after the wreck is irrelevant to our investigation. Robert, would you be willing to do field sobriety tests to see if you are safe to drive?

ROBERT: Hell no.

ME: Awesome. Turn around. You're under arrest.

And so I arrested him. Sausage stood there. With all his driving patterns and the observations I made and later had to articulate, this old salty dog was surely not going to let Mr. Pee Pee Pants go free. Sausage later asked me how I could have enough to arrest the man. [head hit dashboard] Apparently, we did not teach him enough to know to recognize what reasonable suspicion was for the stop and needed probable cause for an arrest.  Good question for Phase I. We are at the end of Phase III. Perhaps if the Captain wants to salvage him...he could be his assistant...make coffee for him and solve crime by binary code. I worry about the kid getting killed because he is just good and pure of heart.

ME: You know what, Sausage, it's too bad we didn't siphon that pee pee out of Robert's boots or squeeze it out of his pants and send it in for testing of his alcohol content. With a search warrant...we could go back and do that if you would like to.

SAUSAGE: Are you being sarcastic?

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Useless As A Bag of Dicks

We have gotten so mean

In case you were wondering...this is the Boogie Man focus today...to flush out the meanness and expose it like a naked old lady in front of the courthouse. If you think this sounds a little harsh, read on.

I must also give an introduction that I believe there is much buffoonery afoot in our political system including acts by the presidents. These are normal in all political arenas even if you might think they are extraordinary. Apparently, you don't pay attention. While I will agree that some things are more extreme or deviate from the norm than others...politicians come with many faults and personality quirks. They are just observations on my part which do not align with things I agree with but it should be noted it is just my opinion. It doesn't mean I am going to start labeling people or starting things on fire nor retreating to my safe space. I still am an avid conservative and have faith in our system.

                 But first...a word from our sponsors...

Today's post is brought to you by underscoring, critical thinking, the color 7, and spring blossoms. 

Weather report: I am praying the show of bulbs really does happen and Mother Nature doesn't freeze their balls off. Right now it is freaking cold outside because winter is here for a day and then back up to 60s and 70s. WTF? Over.

Expert introduction: Fargo, unknown blogger of The Boogie Man Is My Friend, is today's jack of all trades, master of none. She has graciously accepted the invitation to talk to us about some humanitarian issues, politics, and worldly views. Yes, now is your chance to click off. You might think Fargo has fallen off the train of funny farm candidates choo chooing their way to the asylum after reading today's post.

And now without further ado about nothing...heeeerrrreeeee's Fargo!

"Thank you, Guy! I love your tie, by the way. You look very patriotic today."

"Why, thank you, Miss Fargo."

"Oh, please no formalities. Call me by my first name."

" Ok. Miss."

"Uh. No, Guy. 'Miss' is the prefix. Fargo is my name."

"Oh. Oh good. I thought that was weird. Carry on, Fargo."

"Good day to you all! I hope the sun is shining on you today and all that other zen crap. Peace. So, today I am proposing a totally new and different look at things. What things? Many things. Stick around. You might find this interesting, boring, or falling in the 'I don't give a shit' category. You can respond accordingly afterwards when we take questions from the audience. My dad often said, 'Who GAS?' Translated, this is a nice way of saying, 'Who Gives A Shit?' Get it? Got it? Good.

I just want to you to think about some of the underlying things I present today. I'm not saying this perspective is right or wrong. Truthfully (that is a sign of a lie about to come out), it might all be fucked up for all I know. I just thought about it and decided to go around the globe and speak about it. I am just throwing it to the wall like spaghetti in hopes that some of it might stick. That means the spaghetti is done, by the way. Free cooking tips are always appreciated, right?"

Ok. Intermission, folks. I need some coffee."

[pause for coffee break]

Fargo returns with a second outfit and new hair do. 

"Hello again! So about all this meanness. First, I want to say that I don't care if you like, dislike, or even hate President Trump or anyone else I am about to talk about. I am going to talk about what is happening to people and break things down a bit. Have you heard or even said yourself that Trump is mentally disabled or has a literacy problem, etc. and so forth? Who here expects our president to be top notch and super smart wonder brainy and all that?"


"Come on, mother fuckers! Are you alive? Pinch your neighbor."

[screams and moans and many "ouches"]

"See what I did there? You guys are all mean. So anyway. Back to our scheduled program. So what if our president has a learning disability or a literacy problem. What should we say about that? Isn't that sad, right? We have failed one of our citizens or perhaps the result is the best he can do and has come a long way. Does it prevent him from doing a job? No. Why not? Because he has support. That's what our country is about. Albeit it would be nice if the support were not a bunch of assholes and underminers. But hey, dicks can have jobs too. America is all inclusive.

But why do we think we are so perfect? That's right...little ol' us out here in the boonies of society. Do we expect a president to be perfect or represent us in truthful and pure demographic representation? Are we so snobby that we are going to exclude handicaps, disabilities, and imperfections in our leaders? What about Temple Grandin? What about Stephen Hawking? Huh? What about Einstein? We are pathetic hypocrites, aren't we?

Some say Trump is going all willy nilly with orders and rules and blah blah blah. Well, he, like many feel our country has become disorder and he is trying to scrape by what he thinks will help. Possibly. Anyway that is a theory or what we gather from what he says. Sure. There is always some personal agenda in politics. Duh. Is he different from other politicians? Aren't they all the same? Oh and yes, he has now become a politician by the way. He is in office, thus dubbed thee.

About the uproar in executive orders, persuasions, and ruling thoughts. I use ruling lightly, btws. But you forget we have checks and balances. And boy howdy...are we using them.

Sawright! That's what the system was designed for...keeping all branches in line. Think of it as an insurance policy. Hey, we impeached Nixon, right? And when he got old, people loved him again. Crazy turn of events. Is that forgiveness or memory loss? I'm not sure.

Now, I am going to take some sips of coffee and I recommend you do too. Heck, I'm going to get my last costume change on which represents Americans. Be right back!"

[exits stage left]

Fargo returns or we think it is Fargo. 

"Howdy! Yep. This is me, representing America. One of you motherfuckers is going to call me out on my color and ask why I didn't choose a different color and why am I highlighting green. Well, two things here. First, Oscar the Grouch is fucking green. The fucking Sesame Street god made him that way. Second, if you mix all the colors of the world up in one melting pot...you get this puke green color. So there. I am inclusive of all. Shut the fuck up.

Why are we so judgy? So perfect? So critical of every little thing. I'm like relax, relax. You gotta be wearing down that ticker being so wound up. Can't we have any fun anymore? Are we so high and mighty that we can't accept each other's faults? What the fuck happened to June and Ward? What about the Partridge family and the Brady Bunch? The Jeffersons? Sanford and son? And so forth. Didn't you learn any lessons? Friends? The Andy Griffith show? Clifford the Red Dog. Sally and Spot. The Velveteen Rabbit. Come on. Even though some of those shows would not be accepted today, they had good lessons. The books were awesome. Books are knowledge. Books are power. Read more. Go books! Don't put them in my house (points to garbage can.)

No. Random House did not pay me to say that. Let's shift to some more political mumbo jumbo mixed with a little sociology and morality and yada, yada. Have you noticed this presentation is all over the place with no organizational thought? Yeah. Shad up!

Here's a thing...if someone has a learning disability or mentally or physically handicapped...why can't they be president? Or any big shot? Eek! You say and gasp with disbelief. Think about it. Are we being a bunch of assholes? Of course, there is some competency needed. Duh. But so what if Trump can't read and write very well? So what if he has some narcissism? Should all that be an exclusion? You decide. I think we have become big assholes about something and expect purism.

Moving on to free speech. When did we decide that free speech is only if it aligns with a certain viewpoint. All others will be quashed with violence, noise, disruption, etc. Thus, creating a censorship. In turn...that is really no free speech. You really are censoring things when you shut things down or cause someone to cancel a speaking event or prevent passage. This goes for Trump, too. He just says it rather than burn you to the ground if you don't listen.

You are limiting what people can say and do on television and radio and in person. Yes, of course, we have some standards. But mostly anything goes these days. Look at me. I say bad words and I am entirely inappropriate. If you don't like it, don't listen. Walk away. Click off. Don't sit there and click on it because views equals money. Sure, you can speak out, but when extremism rules over some type of diplomatic or at least discernible communication and free speeches, then we really don't need the stinkin' Bill of Rights, correct?

When you flop around like a fish out of water in front of something because you don't like it or walk around with a vagina on your head, I can't respect you. You are an idiot. I'm sorry. I just think there is a time to be cute and a time to really be adult about things. I still believe in contacting our representatives, commenting on social media, petitions, peaceful protesting, even organized speaking events or platforms. I can't support all this nonsense I see nor the censoring of the language. Shit. We are so afraid to say anything about anything because it might offend someone. Well, fuck off!

I'm sure that offended my mother in the least.

We dwell too long on stupid things. I don't like Trump's Tweets. But he has free speech rights just like my neighbor. I just wish he would choose wiser when to use them. People are shouting to take Twitter away. He shuts out media. He tells people they are fake or fake news. So what? I get sick of it. I agree he needs to grow up and act like an adult. If you don't focus on it, maybe it will subside. Don't feed the fire. But neither he nor should you or I try to shut people down. It's censorship. It is squashing rights.Something for all of us to remember when we get up in arms.

I didn't like how he treated Merkel. It was awkward and unfriendly appearing. Well, not every meeting with any president of any generation is all perfect. Let it go. Move on. You criticized, we saw. Next!

Another point...so what if Trump brings his daughter into the White House? He's the fucking president. I happen to like her better than him. So what if it is unprecedented? Are we stuck in the same wheels of thinking that we can't look at something different or something new? If it doesn't work, don't you think it will be corrected? Fuck. I think I just want to shake people. And actually, who can the poor motherfucker trust these days anyway? And those of you who make fun of it being some sick sexual relationship...fucking shame on you. Incestuous relationships and molestation are no laughing matter. Fuckers. Grow the fuck up. You can make a lot of jokes, but that is some sick ass shit.

Of course all of their vacations and place of residency is also under contention. I don't fucking care. Should I? I don't know. They can just go print more money. Come on. I'm kidding. Trump has a big family which equals a big price tag. Down the road there might be a president with more expenses and more family. Here's another thing...inflation. Today's cost don't match yesterdays or tomorrows. So what is the value? I don't know. The Kennedys were lavish vacationers and probably in that day they spent wads. Well, he got killed, so didn't we do a fancy job? Can we stop fucking making it headline fucking news. I'm about to put Donald and company in the Mount Rushmore heads so his location isn't always advertised to the enemy.

I could go on about irresponsible media, but we don't need to. They do a great job of exposing their bullshitness all by themselves.

Continuing on down the road to nonsense. Let's talk about our colleges and universities. Somehow we have given too much power to these professors who now encourage unruly behavior, censorship, and abandon the fucking classroom to throw a tantrum and try to extinguish free speech somewhere. I fucking pay for my education you motherfuckers. I want you in the classroom. I want my degree. I don't want you to be a political embarrassment. Stay in your fucking lane. Oh and the greatest thing is they influence the students to join along with them. Meanwhile, I'm the only fucking student in the classroom showing up for my education. And this is tolerated? What the fuck is wrong with you people?

In closing, have we all forgotten where we come from and where we want to be? Have we forgotten the Golden Rule? I, personally, am sick of the lack of common sense and the meanness in people. It really makes me want to become a Viking and wield an ax around. If everyone else feels that way, then we might be at war soon. I will be ready. I will be shouting from my balcony-"you stupid motherfuckers....this is friendly fire...stop killing each other"-anyway, that was hypothetical. Be nice. Don't be a mean motherfucker. I wasn't raised that way. I have not raised my child that way.

I leave you with my biggest words of wisdom, 'Don't be as useless as a bag of dicks, you mother fuckers! Oh. And be kind.' "

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Amongst Many Men Lies An Asshole

There are many moments of training days, I look back and think. Whew. Glad that turned out the way it did. Otherwise...I could see me getting some suspension days because I let things escalate a little too far in order to let rookies figure things out on their own...

Now to preface this call...I despised both the girlfriend and the suspect. They thought they were big shits on turd mountains. Truth is...they were half right. They were both turds. They were not nice people. Like ever. In their entire lives. I'm pretty sure I could make that blanket statement based upon my police history with them. 

To preface...Squirrel is really a good guy...smart...and eager to be a cop. He just needed to find his way and remember his Marine days were behind him. 

A side of Squirrel came out that I had not seen before. It was the hard nosed Marine persona going into battle with the ultimate enemy. He was obsessed. After two different calls with two different persons that pushed his buttons, he was thankful I was there to diffuse the situation.

The first...was a drunk male about 5-10, 250 of solid muscle.

It amazed me we were in one of the richest neighborhoods for a family fight only to find the couple fighting were both felons now turned millionaires. WTF? I'm totally doing something wrong.

She was stupid, pushed around by her abuser boyfriend, and didn't remember I had put her away for dope and forgery when I was a detective. She had also been a cocaine dealer taken down several years prior.

Her boyfriend...of the same caliber...only he had a rep for aggravated assault against the PoPo. Apparently, once they were released from prison, they hit the good life by starting a legitimate business in the oil field.

Beat me.

We both wondered why honest, hard working Americans stayed in middle class or upper poverty such as Squirrel and I and felony stupidteers became millionaires.

Randy had fled the residence on his Harley and shortly thereafter returned. Prior to his second arrival, we had discussed the family fight with his intoxicated girlfriend. Never mind the details of the fight, the conversation between Squirrel and Fireball was precious. I watched it unfold and didn't interrupt until they were within 2 inches of each other and challenging the other to a duel. It was like an old west showdown only new.

FIREBALL RANDY: How old are you, boy?

SQUIRREL: What does that have to do with anything? I'm calling  you a liar. Doesn't matter my age.

FIREBALL RANDY: You guys in blue think you can just come in here, into my house?
Fireball Randy

SQUIRREL: We got a 911 call from your kids. They were scared. We have a lawful presence to be here. So quit your blatant lying. I could take you to jail right now, but I gave you the courtesy of asking what was going on.

FIREBALL RANDY: I've taken on challenges bigger than you. You're just a cop and small man. Let's go. [put his cell phone and keys on his truck bed] Do it or arrest me already.[bowed up his chest and walked forward in a challenge to Squirrel]

SQUIRREL: I'm not scared of you. I've fought in battles and killed people. Been shot at. You're nothin'.[ Put his Maglite in his belt and moved forward.]

So this was getting interesting. To FTO or not to FTO. Perhaps I should be a good trainer and intervene. 

Ah. Maybe later. 
Yep. This is better than popcorn

FIREBALL RANDY: No youngster is going to come to my house and talk to me like this, fucking punk.

SQUIRREL: You are in the wrong. You are drunk. You're kids are scared of you. You better quit fucking lying to me. You think I'm stupid? Fuck.

FIREBALL RANDY: Bullshit. They are not. My kids are not scared of me at all. Don't twist things or lie. I just bought her a $7,000 ring. And you are cussing me out. You can't do that.

SQUIRREL: I don't care about any Goddamn ring. You come home drunk and blatantly lie to me.  I could arrest you for DUI right now. And I can cuss at you if I want.

FIREBALL RANDY: Do it. You didn't see me drive my bike. And I see how it is, we can't cuss, but the police can.

At this point, I was losing Squirrel. His eyes turned black and he was blank. He was trying to control himself, but I could tell he was lost somewhere between being a cop and a soldier dealing with an asshole that had pushed him over the edge. Martial law was about to consume him. Although this was entertaining and rookies need to make their own way at times, I thought perhaps it was time to be a trainer. Or a mother. Why are guys so full of testosterone?

ME: I'm calling bullshit on your crap, Randy. You rode up here on your Harley. We both saw you because your garage door was open and we have eagle eyeballs. You are drunk. You had an argument with Cindy. Your boys called 911. Fight with the PoPo and you'll lose. I think you know that from experience. Another felony. Get your fucking ass in the house and consider yourself lucky we aren't arresting you. Mess with Squirrel and he will kick your ass. He's a decorated soldier and you are nothing but a hot head turd. We are done with you. Take it inside. Don't come out, or you go to jail.

So..with that...the BITCH had spoken and FIREBALL RANDY went inside with his drunk girlfriend. I don't know why. Maybe he was scared of blond chicks. Perhaps it was because I didn't say a word until then. I had let Squirrel handle the call. Randy didn't argue...he didn't bow up...he turned about face and left, shutting the garage door on Squirrel's last words...

SQUIRREL: You come out, you're mine. You're going to jail. Lie to me, you go to jail.

ME: Settle down, Crackpipe. Geez, you just about got into a fight we didn't need. I had my Taser half out.

SQUIRREL: He was mine. He was over the mark. Once I get in the zone, you can't stop me. I feel like I am at war and I don't quit.

ME: Yep. That's what I'm afraid of. Now stateside, you are going to have to control that or you are going to see a lot of suspension time.

SQUIRREL: I hate that guy. He is a liar. I hate liars.

ME: People lie to the police all the time.

SQUIRREL: If you hadn't been there, I would have piled him up. He wouldn't have had a chance and I wouldn't have stopped either. He made the first move. I would finish it.

ME: I know. And you should know he is a handful. Even the biggest cops have struggled with him.

SQUIRREL: I've had worse in the Marines. He's now a project.

ME: [big sigh] Boys. Too much testosterone.

SQUIRREL: He's an asshole.

ME: Amongst many men.