Evidence 101

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

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

The Country of Jesus

Last night I came home from a very long hard grueling day. No commas in there. Run it together and get tired so you know how I felt.

As I entered the house, I was bombarded by a herd of dogs and one teenager.

"Mom, let's practice jujitsu!"


"Ok. Let me change my clothes."

A few minutes later the kid and I were practicing our ninja skills. She was mostly practicing and I was forced to be the ninja bad guy. For those of you who don't know, the ninja bad guy gets beat up all the time and punished by the seemingly victim student.

Yeah. It was a gas.

"Mom, isn't this great? I am getting faster."

"You need to go half the force, Missy. Otherwise I am going to go hit for hit."

[giggles from the princess]

Photo credit: Pinterest

"Mom, I didn't want to hurt you before, but now that your neck feels better I am going full on ninja."

"Yeah. And if you do that, your mom is going to end up at square one. I am not released for full on ninja yet. When it happens, you will get papers. Besides, Eric told you not to do that and if he taught you these skills, you needed to be careful and wise."

"Yeah, Mom. He told me not to use them at school. He said nothing about using them at home or on my mom."

"Eric and I are going to have a coming to Jesus meeting."

"Mom, you can't mix ninja and Jesus. They are from two different countries."


Monday, February 23, 2015

Oscar The Grouch

A night of the Oscars. As a kid and young adult, I used to enjoy watching them. The glamour and the great films would leave me awestruck. Believe it or not, I was really into fashion watching in college and enjoyed in anticipation of the new fashions striking the red carpet and Hollywood gossip which accompanied it. I got over it.

Now, the Oscars and other awards shows strike me as a joke. Even though I will hail the many great actors and actresses, musicians, and the like- they have lost their class. The acceptance speeches are rants or an opportunity to make a political statement which takes away from honoring the motion picture industry. If this is truly the free platform Hollywood wishes to embrace, they could go buy themselves a cause. I will not partake in the shenanigans. Thank you, God, you put The Walking Dead and Downton Abbey right smack at the same prime time.

Boo hiss to the platformers, which is my new coin phrase going out to the Hollywood actors and actresses who want to use family time and awards for their agenda. Hooray for The Walking Dead. What plot twist can we have now? Will Judith grow up?

My morning madness started with dogs and toy carnage, hot coffee, and news. It was all wonderful except the death of yet another duct taped dog toy and the news. The news I find is less informative a the days go on. Is it all sensational spin and propaganda garbage? I'm beginning to enjoy the b.s. segments of food ideas for families.

And what about ISIS claiming to target Mall Of America? Pshaw. DO NOT MESS WITH SHOPPING WOMEN! Gah. Do they announce it, to set up a decoy? Warn the masses to effect commerce? Whatever. I am disgusted we have not come down on them with wrath. That is all. Truly disappointed, I am. I especially like the theory of giving them jobs to cure their violence. Wow. Brilliance in the making that one idea is.

Photo Credit: Facebook Friend JL
In non-terrorist news...Bug and I have vows for Lent...I am going to work on my f bombs and being a better mother with more loves and she vowed to be nice to me and do her chores without whining and to cool the tantrums. You see where this is headed. If you do it for 40 days, it becomes habit, right? The first day...I muttered under my breath.."eff that"...when I was watching a news piece of our lack of action on terrorism. I didn't think it counted because I didn't actually use the words. Bug said I needed to find a better substitute like "popcorn" or "nuts" or "rats." Bug said, "Mom, you have already ruined 'Lint' in one day."

Photo credit: the containerstore.com

Needless to say, part of being a good mother is to teach better church practices pertaining to an important sacrifice and lead by example. We need some Lent lessons. I also need to lint roll my pants. 

Physical therapy showed great strides in my neck mobility. I actually feel like a new human being. My therapist was quite pleased with the progress. After therapy is all over, I have been instructed to continue deep tissue massages and my at home exercises along with weight lifting and strength training. I start the sessions of proper lifting and strength training on Wednesday. I'm kind of excited about this. I must prepare to wear the proper pants for bending and no heels. 

Friday, February 20, 2015

Appointments Only No Walkens

If Murphy's escapades with my eucalyptus lotion were not enough last night....it got worse. This morning at 4:30, yes-that is AM EST, proved to be like any other. The dogs needed to pee, poop, and eat. Check. Check. I had my morning two cups of rocket fuel. Usually I have a whole pot, but I am saving those for Saturday and Sunday. Weekdays I am down to two a day. WOW! That is an accomplishment.

After downing my news and coffee, I trotted upstairs to take a shower. When I got out of the shower, Murphy jumped in and jumped out and sat there wagging his tail. He seemed to be in a good mood and quite active. He is not a morning person. Dragging him out of bed is like taking on a sloth. So, needless to say, this was odd. It usually takes him an hour to get busy.

Once I donned my towels (yes, I am a girl-one for the hair and one for the bod), I went downstairs. Murphy was on high speed, low drag and slid down them on his belly. Strange. He usually doesn't do the belly slides until evening. He was full of piss and vinegar.


Photo credit: Pinterest

He plopped down on his dog bed and he was surrounded by glue sticks and packaging. While I stared at him in disbelief, he grabbed a glue stick and ate it. I screamed, dropped the towels and wrestled with him while naked. It's a good thing the blinds were down or the neighbors would have had a horror show. He ate most of one stick of glue before I could get it out of his mouth. I have no idea how many he consumed before I caught him.

As I picked up the remaining glue sticks which were strewn all over the house, I was cursing *#&$)#*&$)@($ under my breath that the next butt explosion was going to be Bug's job. Well, that was a fantasy I was having, anyway. And who could get really mad at this face after all that?
Murphy aka Meatball aka Chaos

I fondly call him Meatball because he is solidly stocky and packed in a small punch. I think I might change it to Chaos.
Photo credit: Pinterest

I have never had a dog eat glue sticks. I hope it does not cause any major problems or glue his butthole shut.

In other non-related news, I am feeling like a new person this week because of the deep tissue massages and neck traction. It is amazing what a body can do when it feels good. It also contributed to my attitude. I didn't realize how much I had restricted myself to and how much I had slowed down because of the pain. Once you get used to constant pain, you forget what it was like to feel good and be active.

Down 6 pounds this week and continuing to drive the fat bus out of town. I will restart marathon training again in two weeks at a slow pace, Crossfit (modified) at the end of March, and continuing self-defense with USA Combat Jui-Jitsu with Bug until April. Also starting back up with Piloxing next week during two lunches. Other times I am walking which blows. I hate walking in circles. I LOATHE IT. I guess I should be grateful I can walk. When I am 100, (haha) I will be glad if I can still walk on my own. My friend Treva is amazing at 100 and still lives on her own.

My therapist suggested adding in some weight lifting IF I do it the right way, so he is going to work with me on that next week.

Since I had the last morning episode of fake drunkenness, I have not taken any more medications. I got a wrinkled frown from my therapist even though he later said I had to do what works for me and he certainly wasn't going to push drugs. He suggested I speak to the doctor about something else or ask if it was OK to quit them all together. Any excuse to talk to the hot doc, right? When the word "deep tissue massage" came out...I was kinda happy, kinda not.

Photo credit: Pinterest
Deep tissue massages are not fun if you have never had them. The word "massage" is just to fool you into thinking they are the bomb diggety and relaxing. They make me uptight. Picture a Sumo wrestler on your back plunging a crow bar into your weak spots. They hurt, they are miserable, but after a couple days they work miracles and angels sing, the light goes on, and you walk with Jesus. The knot on my left shoulder was about the size of a golf ball and hard pulsating demons. The ones in my neck were hard and when he pushed on them, they actually gagged me so he had to work them out. He could feel the muscles "spasming" as he worked them. Creepy, huh? It's like they are live tissue or something. Blah. I know, I know. I'm alive! I'm alive! However, I think aliens are in there. One thing doesn't look or work like the others.

The right shoulder blade has one as well which needs more work. I thought I was a two-fer, but the therapist said I might have to have 5 or 6 of these types of massages. He was pleased with the progress so far. The traps are much more relaxed, but very tight, still to a point where they don't function with mobility. I'm Frankenstein's daughter.
Photo credit: Pinterest-"MURPHY the koala"

Mr. Therapist said I was a mess and he could tell I had over worked my upper body and lifted improperly over time. Man, I am sure regretting the days I thought I was made of steel. At least, I believe I will avoid surgery for this time and be able to get back into an active lifestyle. I am so excited about being able to move right now. Spirit fingers!

So..who is with me on this challenge?

Yeah. It's silent. Anyone? Anyone?

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Poop Water Is The NEWater

The Anthem hack continues to plague work and has struck some colleagues. While we are all concentrating on saving our own asses, the university work is at a standstill because all of us are making phone calls. We are on a mission to jam up the Indiana government lines and the federal tax line.

Meanwhile on hold, I tried this sample of Norwegian water contained in this fancy dancy bottle. It really is imported from Norway and made of glass, so I can't imagine what that costs for shipping. In case your curiosity was running away with you, it tastes the same as American water. I do, however, prefer to drink water out of glass rather than plastic or cardboard, but the price of one of these babies retails here for $2.25. I can buy a whole case of bottled water for that and it even includes Corox so I am sure to be free of germs. What are you getting from Norwegian spring water? 

1) A pretty reusable glass container
2)Calcium, Magnesium, Choride, Potassium, Total Dissolved Solids
3)Zero calories

Photo credit: worldmarket.com

So first thing that fascinates me is they put Clorox in their water, too. The second thing is "total dissolved solids". So is Norway recycling their waste water and disguising it as posh spring water? Did I just drink poop? The big boss said it is probably just minerals. However, he doesn't really know, so I was not convinced. 

I just had to down some American water containing Clorox to cleanse my palate because it did not have any poop on the label. This brought about an office conversation on poop water and how Singapore has quite a racket in the works on poop water and Bill Gates recently was caught on camera drinking it (NEWater). 

While on the subject of poop water, my other boss came out and talked about the next step in her identity theft problem and informed us her taxes are going to take a year to resolve. My boss's tax returns were filed and an ungodly amount of money sent to some scammer and now she can't file her taxes. Beat me. I hope I don't have that same problem. My Twitter did get hacked and I blamed it on Anthem, Kim Jung-Un, and the police because everyone else can. 

I filed a credit freeze and according to the IRS, you can do nothing about your child's information until they are 18. What does that mean? It means they ASSUME no one is going to file anything using their information OR some super secret government conspiracy is going on and we won't know until she is 18.

This word "breach" is too soft. This is an epic violation of the body, mind, and soul. It is a soul sucking moment.

In the meantime, I got my free credit report thanks to Anthem. I thought it was great to learn my first husband was behind thousands of dollars in his truck loan on several occasions in 2014 which is driven by him but conveniently still has my name on it because we were married. Yet, he is building a new addition on the house, frequently travels, and parties all the time. We both have tried to get my name off the loan with divorce decrees and affidavits, but the bank says no. He tried to refinance but with his ARREARS (believe me right now he is a BIG rear end) he can't get a loan. Now I am affected. I never made a late payment on the loans I had to pay in both our names and they are all paid off. I didn't want to give him negative credit. I really don't know what to say except scream. 

Strong work, hubs.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Perpetuating A Myth

Infant deaths are again in the news, especially becoming a focus for Indiana government. Well, at least they claim it is on the forefront to address with law enforcement, family services, and health and medical professionals.

I often browse news releases on these types of cases because they pique my curiosity. Once a cop, always a cop.

Comments in social news feeds still, after all these years, continue to amaze me as to how many people still do not understand how a baby works in its environment. I know that statement sounds crass and depersonalized. Babies are probably what make all of us crumble with their cuteness.

Some declarations:

1) SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) does not exist. This was announced to the world in the early 2000's. Almost ALL deaths can be determined. Very few will have an undetermined status.

2) Parents and society are still uneducated which was supposed to be on the forefront of the CDC's agenda in 2005. Yet, years later, several states have high infant mortality rates, lack educational materials or service, and agencies still do not work together.

3) States with economic problems will suffer the highest rates.

How does the United States tackle this problem? I have some solutions. Yes, no one is listening. It is OK, I just like to share. It's a gift.

1)SIDS does not exist because there is no such thing as a mysterious phenomena or syndrome or disorder which zaps the life out of our infants. Manner of death (in consistent reporting requirements) can be determined:

Natural. • Accident. • Suicide. • Homicide. • Undetermined. • Pending

I will give examples of each:

Natural: illness, disease
Accident: positional asphyxiation, re-breathing
Suicide: self-inflicted-not possible with infant (under 1 year of age) deaths
Homicide: murder
Undetermined: not enough information or evidence to make a conclusion
Pending: notification not yet entered or investigation not concluded

2)Educational awareness began with a big surge of public information and then the information waned off and is now included only through medical facilities, OB/BYN floors, and the Back to Sleep program.

The way an infant case was investigated was changed and reevaluated. This began with years of study in the 1980's and a wave of training in the 2000's. Many states have not jumped on this bandwagon and refuse to work with other agencies or refuse to adopt CDC's reporting method and investigation procedures.

Free training is available, but not sought.

Several law enforcement agencies have not adopted team investigation styles nor allowed for multi-jurisdictional investigations.

Investigation methods and reporting have not included the CDC SUIDI report form in infant death investigations.

Infant death is such a tragedy and often investigators do not know how to address it with parents.

Who likes to tell the parents a child's death was an accident and preventable? No one. So lets just call it "SIDS" and soften it all up. Yet, that does not help parents get answers nor does it let society prevent future deaths.

3) Economic hardships, multi-family cohabitation, and living environments all effect infant mortality. That is a scientific fact, not a guess. I could explain in more detail, but that would be lengthy.

Here are some things I still see...parents who are told cause and manner of death, put SIDS in the obituary because anything else is too hard to see in print. Even though I understand why they do this, it portrays SIDS as alive and scary. People still believe it exists because it is perpetuated. Perhaps, they should just say "passed unexpectedly." Friends and family will know what happened. No one can control those things but it is just an observation.

Public service information is slight to nil. I used to see commercials, news stories, etc. It's like it all dried up. This is something which isn't going to be fixed ever and if the numbers are going to drop, education is the key both to the public and law enforcement. Acceptance of medical assistance from the CDC is something investigators are going to have to embrace in order to reverse the problems, or at least lessen them. Communities need to come together to educate each other. It takes a village.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Career Squishing

A while back, Well Seasoned Fool asked me to address police character in an email many moons back, and I am a little pissed Gmail has lost it in the oblivion of the Internet Cloud. I don't permanently delete anything, so it must have dropped off the face of the earth, which means I took entirely too long to address it. For this, I apologize.

I will set the scene, and if it is way off the mark, Well Seasoned Fool will certainly tell me I am full of shit. He is a straight shooter.

Let's say someone, a local, youngish, hard working, good man (yes male) gets into a bar fight or just a brawl over words or protecting someone's honor, or maybe he is just damn pissed off at some punk running their mouth and had enough. It could be at a bar. It could be at Walmart. It definitely would not happen at Target because we Target shoppers are pompous assholes. Kidding! Anyway, fists fly and dust blows. Cops eventually show up. The cop may or may not cite or arrest or perhaps he (yes male-this is a man story) talks to both parties and the fight is over and both go home, no charges, no consequences. It might be like the good old days. See. Cops are not all assholes, although it is your own damn fault you got into a fight in the first place. I would come bearing gifts. Anydigression, the cop makes a comment to the nice youngish man that his aspirations of being a cop are over and he should not think about law enforcement.

First, this statement from the police officer on career squishing is not entirely true. Could one simple fight ruin someone's chances of being a law enforcement officer? It depends is the correct way to look at it. If it does, just go join the military. LOL.

I know several great cops who got into an occasional brawl, got misdemeanors, or even smoked pot. The departments look at the time frame, age of candidate at the time, and if it was pattern behavior. So, Well Seasoned Fool...I wanted to tell you that you still could have tested and you still would have been able to be a cop. Most departments would expect honesty in reporting those things, but it would not hinder all possibilities. Unless, you applied for the FBI and they only take nerdy sissies. Just kidding.

Ok. So...this last month has been a rally to boost emotional spirits in law enforcement by myself. I, along with many of my peers are so passionate about the profession. One of my former colleagues shared his parting email upon retirement from my department. Yes, it is my department and always will be. I didn't work for anyone else. So there. Mine, mine, mine, mine. I am still part of it, although it no longer is a part of me. Get it. Got it. Good.

I wrote this along with some words from my buddy Detective Fedora. You might remember him from some stories on here and in the books: You can CLICK HERE. Tell me what you think. Do you agree with us? Are we too passionate about law enforcement? Are we unrealistic? Are we spot on? Do you agree or disagree as an outside perspective? Are we pie-eyed and stoned? No. We don't do drugs. At least not illegal ones. Right now I am on some muscle relaxers and pain killers (temporary and non-narcotic) for my neck. Believe me, they are helping as is physical therapy. I've gone once. Yeah. I know. I'm a little optimistic.

So back to business...speak the truth mighty citizens. What do you think?

Monday, February 9, 2015

The EYES have it.

Let me introduce you to some freaks.

It is the latest and greatest thing.

They are those who engage in corneal tattooing. CRAZAYASSED whackadoodle poodles. No way in hell would I ever embark upon this body art...like ever. Gross me out.

I might faint at the sight of posting a picture. You can see my favorite find here at the BBC News site. Barf.  Or gag me more and make me pass out...here:

Photo credit: Pinterest...WTF is wrong with people?

When Doc would have us attend autopsies which was all of them, LOL, I could not watch when they put the 70 foot needle in the eyes to withdraw fluid from the eyes. It was a sure fire way to get all the cops to run post haste out of the morgue.

Would it surprise you I could not even find any images on the internet. OK. I didn't look very hard. But the first 100 or so did not show what I wanted to show you. Everyone should join in the misery. I have to go now. This picture is really freaking me out and I am tapping both feet (that is a tapout) at my desk while typing this.

My eyes are on you! Bofe of 'em! And they don't look like this..^^^ No one is getting anything poke-y  not slow like turtle, but sharp like needle) near my eyes.


Might I suggest all you whackadoodles have your corneas tattooed white so as we can't see any bloodshot eyes on the highway roadside tests...er...field sobriety maneuvers.

No way.

Crazay assed people.

Monday, February 2, 2015

The Permit

Without further ado, I am going to introduce you to my latest read, The Permit, by William B. Scott.

Scott gives a gripping tale of fiction based upon some true accounts of his son's killing in Las Vegas, Nevada, in 2010.
Erik Scott's case is easily researched online if you wish to peruse the online sites. I did, naturally, because I was curious. It was disturbing to me even though I don't really know all the evidence. I also have to take in account that I don't have all the facts and news sources are sometimes not trusted sites of truth.

Perhaps all the latest inquests into police shootings also caused me some concern and the fact I would like to trust the FEDS or an outside agency would investigate properly and uphold right over wrong. This is not always so and garbage in gives garbage out. We, as the outsiders, would never be privy to what the FBI is given in an investigation nor what they discover. Personnel matters are often kept within a department and only criminal allegations go public.

Erik Scott's case was and still is indeed a tragedy. Even the case information available to the public leaves me with many questions. I will be interested to see what comes of any civil case.

With all this, comes emotions. The book gives you a sense of some of the grief William Scott must have felt, only I am sure it only gives us a surface look. Plus, Scott wrote in so brilliantly "frustration": frustration with corruption; frustration with the legal system not prevailing and the struggle to find the truth; frustration with everything going against every moral grain we have as citizens; and a parent's fight for justice. Then there is revenge-an eye for an eye. It is all in the storyline.

Some issues I had with the beginning were the inept police procedures and lack of firearms safety. Gah. I know the author meant to show the incompetence of the police officers, but it drives me crazy. I just wanted to correct them. The mixture of content (fiction and non-fiction) caused me some conflict while I read the book, knowing real was mixed with unreal. You can mostly sort it out, but it leaves you with a cloud of doubt.

Perhaps it is just the nosy investigator side of me and it left a hole in my heart and an unsettling feeling.

The book was very well-written and an easy read, but deep and heavy at the same time. Intense is a better way to describe it. It reminded me of the emotions I went through with the movie "Training Day" with Denzel Washington. I don't want the cops to be corrupted, yet we can't hide our faces in the sand. There is and has been corruption out there and some departments where it is deep-rooted. Most of us probably could name a couple of big departments which have been exposed publicly. Thankfully, I worked in a department without any of this type of behavior, nor would I have stood for it as an officer. 

Scott gives you an inside look to corruption, internal investigations, and conspiracy. In his novel, it all becomes a dirty little secret the father, Win Steele, tries to reveal. He added in a little "spy" factor which was intriguing and brought a unique twist. Over all, it was different, intriguing, and fast-paced. I couldn't put the book down and what a ride it gives you with several plot twists and turns. Scott definitely leaves the reader with an important message which I might gather is his intent. It is well worth the read and I highly recommend it.

If any of this sparks your interest, I suggest you boogie down to Amazon and get your copy. He also has a Kindle version, but you know me...I like the tree version.