Chlamydian Blues

How does a love triangle, or quadrangle, work out? Funny! Always funny, unless you're the one who got an S.T.D. The man was from Gambia. His wife works full time and takes care of their two children, one of which was recently born. The other day she gets a call from the doctor's office. You see, the newborn was unexpectedly premature, so the doctor ran a battery of tests on her to determine why. Evidently she has Chlamydia. This disturbed her because she has never had sex with anyone but her husband, and they've been married five years.

Angry, she takes his cell phone and goes through all the numbers. She finds a number she doesn't recognize and calls it. This is when she meets another woman, her husband's girlfriend of five months. But, quite disturbingly, the woman tells her she's never had intercourse with the husband, only oral sex. So the wife assumes there must be at least one other woman.

So the girlfriend and wife decide to confront the husband while he's at work. This doesn't go well and he leaves via the back door. They follow him to his home and this is when everything falls apart. Rather than apologizing, or admitting he's ever done any wrong, he savagely attacks the girlfriend for telling on him. Witnesses describe that he, "Beat her like a man." Now he's sitting in jail on a forty eight hour domestic violence hold.

Verbal Jackass

I was forced to sit through two days of training entitled, "Verbal Judo." The instructor, who received an unreasonable sum of money, was Dr. George Thompson, who, evidently, has given himself the nickname "Doc Rhino." Doc Rhino? Come on.....

I was completely unable to get past his constant barrage of arrogance and martial arts references in order to receive whatever lecture message might have been buried underneath. "It's all in the delivery," he said, over and over, as if cops are supposed to be stage actors in some weird Broadway show. He would fold his arms into what he considered a "warrior" pose, something you might have seen in a Kung Fu Theater B-movie, and loudly exclaim, "Wushaw!" He did this at least two hundred times a day, which marked two hundred times I came close to vomiting. Then he'd lick his fingers and wipe his mustache as if, in his own delusional world, he believes he's a gun slinging bad ass from the old West. To make things worse, if that's at all possible, he lost one of his vocal cords to cancer and sounds like Darth Vader with an upper respiratory infection. Mucho phlegm!

The course was basically him telling us over and over how fucking cool he is. Oh, and how we don't know anything and he'd fire the whole department if he was Chief. The lesson plan had quite a few charts. They were so ridiculously confusing I would have had to pay either a scientist or a shaman to make any sense of them. Everything was an acronym with this guy. "I saw this E.D.P. threaten an I.B.D. and a G.B.S." Dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Here are a list of especially ridiculous quotes:

"If you really knew reality then you'd know what I know."
("Because I am magnificent in every way." That would have been the logical follow up for this guy.)

"I will teach you the warrior mentality. We call it Mushin."

"The most dangerous weapon you carry is the cocked tongue."

"When I teach a course I bow in, cause I'm teaching Mushin. Martial Arts of the mouth."

"Ladies, you wake up from a sleep to find a man straddling you, preparing for a rape, his hands frozen at your throat. What should you say?.................. Thank you! Why, you ask? Because he left your hands free, so you reach over to the night stand, grab a pencil, and jam it into his eye. Game over!"
( How much T.V. does a man have to watch to think like this?)

"There will be no violence where I walk."

"Stone man is out! Plastic man is in! Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. "
(His laughter was very inappropriate. As if he thinks, "I'm magnificent. Look at how these mere mortals revel in my greatness!")

"The moment I put the vest on, I become a warrior. From home-boy to officer. Then I always say, Showtime!"

"If I had my way, I'd send every one of you to a six week acting course."
(I'm sure the tax payers wouldn't mind funding that, dumb ass.)

"I'm a force field. Every where I walk there will be peace."

"I would wrap him up and spin him into a web of compliance."
(I guess he thinks he's part spider or something.)

"I've intimidated bars full of people by being pleasant."

"I know twelve ways to take a man out of a car window."
(He learned all of them by watching Jackie Chan movies.)

"When I started using questions, I cut my resistance in half. Well, actually more than half, but I'll give you half!"
(Who's he giving what? I don't understand.)

"Sneaky people raise the shackles on your back. Your sixth sense. Believe in the sixth sense."
(I saw the movie.)

"We are springboarding over the quicksand of argument in the sandbox of America."

"Disrespect is diss'em, and diss'em is death!"

"I don't like the defense lawyers. Shark skin wearing, poupon sucking sons of bitches!"

"I am producer, director, and actor. I write the play, set the stage, and control the actors."
Last I checked, he's not starred in any roles.

"People never say what they mean. But some do." (????)


He showed us videos of himself handling tense situations. Only the videos were scripted and acted. Then he commended himself for how well he handled the situation, which wasn't real. I'm fairly certain that, along with referring to yourself as "Doc Rhino" in the third person, are signs of mental illness. Thanks, Doc. I took nine pages down of asinine quotes.

Insult to Injury

Criminals are getting more and more unusual. We had a guy car to report his car had been broken into, the suspect smashing out the driver window with a chunk of cement, and his radio was stolen. As if that's not bad enough. Whoever perpetrated this crime decided it would be a good idea to leave the victim a present. There was a used condom stuck to the windshield.

Now I ask you, where did the criminal get this condom? Did he use it and then wear it around for a few hours until he found a suitable place to put it? Or did he find it on the ground and think, "Hey, I could use that for later," which is disgusting. Either way he's a jackass.

Chili's: An Anniversary in Hell

Last night I took my wife to Chili's Bar & Grill in the White Oak Shopping Center in Garner, NC. It was our anniversary. Take note: It was the crappiest dinner ever. Bar none!

We get there and each order a beer. I'm anxiously awaiting a sizzling fajita plate. My wife is waiting on some sort of sandwich, I don't remember which one. So, there we are, just about to eat, when an eruption occurs in the kitchen. Some guy is back there screaming, Fucking motherfuckers, fuck...cops...fuck....fucking cops.....Mother fucker! This goes on for about five minutes. I don't normally have problems with cursing as long as my daughters aren't forced to hear it, but this conversation went even further downhill. The skinny white idiot then tells no less than five coworkers, one just happened to have been one of the managers, that, if so and so shows back up they should "pee" in his beer and "do things" to his food. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What's worse is that none of the listeners seemed disturbed at all about the prospect of urinating in food. Didn't seem to bother any of them.

At this point our food came out. The girl who brought it was one of the listeners and seemed embarrassed. We could still hear the guy's seemingly never ending tirade going on behind her. My wife asked if we could speak to the manager. The girl walked back into the kitchen and spoke to curse-boy, who loudly muttered "shit" and walked away smiling.

Unbelievably, the manager who was standing there listening to all of it comes over and speaks with us. He offers to "take care" of our meal. "Weren't you just listening to all of that?" I asked. "Seems like you might have told him to stop."

"Yes, well, he's going through some tough personal times right now. He's having trouble with a roommate."

"I don't care about his roommate," my wife answered. I told him I didn't want the meal "taken care of," as I had no intention of eating it. "What if the glass he talked about urinating into is the same one I'm drinking out of?" I asked.

"Oh, no. That stuff doesn't happen here," he replied. I figured this guy was just running interference for his friend, especially since he was the one listening to the entire diatribe without ever having told the guy to stop. We asked for the main manager.

Finally, two other managers came over and talked to us. We explained what happened and told them we just wanted to leave. Real nice anniversary dinner.

Backseat Buffoon

I'm watching video of a traffic stop. The two people in the vehicle were both arrested with a trafficking amount of designer drugs, as well as a large quantity of cocaine. But what's funny about the incident we didn't notice during the arrest. It came after. You see, the police cruiser has a video camera that records what's happening in front of the car, but it also has a second microphone in the back seat. So, when the officer asked if the male driver had any drugs in the car, you hear him say, "Oh, no, Officer. I don't do drugs." Unfortunately for him, his drivers license was suspended and the Officer arrested him. At this point a search of the vehicle is allowed under state law. The Officer places the guy in the back seat of the police cruiser and again asks, "Do you have anything illegal in the car?"

"No, Officer. Hey, can't we talk about this?"

The Officer then begins his search. The back seat microphone catches this guy's psychotic ramblings and, like the credit card commercial, it's priceless! "Oh, God," he screeches over and over in a high-pitched falsetto, almost sounding like a woman. "What the fuck? Oh my God! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screams so loud the officer hears him from the other car, some twenty yards away. The Officer walks back and asks, "Is everything alright? Were you screaming?"

"Uh, no, Officer. I wasn't screaming. I just wanted to talk to my attorney. Can you let me call my attorney?"

"No," the Officer says calmly. "You can call him once you get booked downtown." Then the Officer speaks to the female passenger from the car. He asked her, "Hey, I'm searching the car now, so before I start, do you know of anything in the car that might be illegal?"

As he asks the guy in the back seat starts whining in a high-pitched moan. "Ohhhhhhhh. Noooooooo. Shiiiiiiiiiit! Oh my God. I'm going to have a fucking heart attack! Don't tell'em baby. Don't tell'em. Take the rap, baby. I'll owe you forever. Take the rap! I can't go back to jail. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh Nooooooooooo!"

The Officer finds the drugs. The female immediately says, "That's not my stuff. It's his. He told me to put it in my purse when you pulled us over."

Now the guy in the back seat is crying and moaning. "Noooooooooo. Oh God, Noooooooooooooo!"

Both are arrested. I can't possibly describe how funny this guy's rantings are in words.

"I Did Nothing Wrong"

A drunk driver blows through a red light on Glenwood Avenue and T-bones a compact car driven by an Orhtopaedic Surgeon. It's 12:30PM on Black Friday. I get there and two witnesses report seeing the drunken fool, who is denying having ever imbibed in his life, pass cars in the turn lane so he can blow through the intersection unimpeded. I give him sobriety tests and he fails miserably, although he disagrees. "I passed all your tests with flying colors, Officer."

He's arrested and blows well over the legal limit down at the Wake County Jail. I have the pleasure of listening to his phone conversation with his wife. "I don't know why I'm here. I haven't had anything to drink. I did nothing wrong. I passed all the sobriety tests. I didn't run any red light. That light was either orange or green! They arrested for no reason at all and my attorney is going to take care of this, just like last time."

It must be blissful living in fantasy land.

Funeral Blues

"Undercover officers use Taser on pallbearerPosted:
WILMINGTON, N.C. — A North Carolina sheriff's official has apologized for plunging a funeral into chaos when undercover agents tried to arrest the dead man's son - and used a Taser on him in the process. It happened as the coffin was being loaded into a hearse. The officers planned to quietly arrest pallbearer Gladwyn Taft Russ III, The Star-News of Wilmington reported Wednesday. Relatives said two deputies dressed in coats and ties grabbed Russ and kneed him in his back before Tasering him. One deputy's gun fell out of its holster. Russ' sister, Taffy Gause, said when she got out of the car a deputy "was waving a gun at me and my mom and yelling to get back or he was going to shoot." She said some mourners went home instead of going to the cemetery.Russ, 42, had failed to surrender after being charged with threatening his ex-wife who lives in another state, officials said. Following his father's death Nov. 11, Russ agreed to surrender after the funeral.When deputies approached Russ during the Saturday funeral, he "went wild" and spat on the officers, said New Hanover County sheriff's chief deputy Ed McMahon. McMahon said the officers should have waited until after the cemetery service."It was never my intention to create any more problems for the family, and I am truly sorry and apologize for that," he said. McMahon said the officers pointed Tasers at people because the crowd was moving toward them. Russ was charged with assault on a government official, resisting an officer, disorderly conduct and felony malicious conduct by a prisoner."Everybody was so scared. We thought it was a drug deal gone bad," said Ronnie Simmons, a pallbearer and Russ' brother-in-law. "We almost dropped the casket."

Nothing I could say would be funnier than what the article already says.

Kobe Japanese Steak House

We ate at Kobe tonight after being referred by one of my wife's coworkers. Kobe, a Japanese steak house, doesn't actually serve Kobe beef. "It's just a name," the waiter answered when I inquired. Our attention was drawn to the multi-person tables. You know, in the Japanese steak house tradition, a semicircular table surrounds a large grill as a chef puts on a show for delighted patrons. We hate people, therefore, we sat in the regular seating area. But the show was still in plain view. And what a show it was.

The chef was a mid-twenties white male with a pony tail and a nose ring. He wasn't ethnic in any way, but, much to our amusement, kept speaking to his "audience" with a fake Japanese accent. That's right, he was faking a Japanese accent. Why would one do that? Did he suddenly become Japanese when he put on that big puffy hat? Colossal dork!

Mental Health Douche-bag

We're working at the Mental Health Crisis Assessment Center, keeping all of the unhappy's placated before they're shipped off to the loonie bin. But this one guy is really bugging us. He says he's from Peru, but he's not from Peru. Why is he lying? He says he doesn't want to get committed, but then tells the doctor he's suicidal and off his meds. He's very angry because he lives at the homeless shelter.

From the homeless shelter to Dorothea Dix Mental Hospital.

But he keeps bothering us over and over with his minuscule problems. What about my stuff? What happens to my stuff? The miserable details of his problems are boring me. I think I'll end his tirade by putting in my Ipod headphones. His irritating voice replaced by the soundtrack to the Lion King. Hakuna mutata motherfucker!

Assholes

Nice art work! I can only hope it was federally funded. A bunch of assholes paying an artist to photograph a bunch of assholes! Ah, the irony ...............

Crack-Cow

What genius hired this person to dress up as a cow and advertise a Halloween costume store? Great idea... You couldn't look at this person, who has been arrested about a hundred times for prostitution and drug offenses, and decide you're probably not going to get good quality help?

The newspaper story reads: "While at work Saturday evening, Allen hit the sauce hard and then stumbled into the streets - blocking traffic and chasing kids, said Police Major Mark Hoffman.
Allen also urinated in a nearby yard during the drunken grazing, cops said. 'It's curious. When I think of Halloween or a haunted trail, I don't think of cows as being scary - although this one was,' Hoffman said. As cops hauled her away, the haunted trail's manager snatched the cow mask away from Allen, but officers let her keep the rest of the outfit. 'It appeared that's all she had on,' Hoffman said. Allen dried out in jail over the weekend - all the while wearing the cow costume. Jail policy allows for inmates to wear prison garb in the clink, but only after a defendant's first court appearance. Despite having two nights to sober up, Allen was in a foul mood Monday, yelling at jailers. 'She was challenging people to 'suck her udders,' Hoffman said. 'I'm not joking."

Happy Halloween ...................

Trooper Chase

A State Trooper clocked a guy driving 120 miles per hour in the rain on I540 and a chase ensued down Leesville Rd. The moron exceeded 80 mph on a blind curve and lost control, flipping several times and pancaking the car. Of course he was drunk, so he wasn't injured, except for having a "sore" wrist. Any normal well-intentioned citizen would have been killed instantly, but, for some reason, useless people are invincible.

So this asshole jumps and runs into the woods and the Troopers lose him. About fifteen minutes go by, and billions of dollars or resources are being wasted (two ambulances, a fire truck, about twenty cops combing the woods), before a call comes in from down the street. Evidently, some guy with the last name of Acosta (the same last name as the owner of the pancaked car) has knocked on the door of an apartment and told the occupants he'd been robbed. Rather than doing the only thing one should do in that situation-which is shoot the guy in the face and call 911 to report a home invasion- this good Samaritan not only calls the police, but also lets Mr. Acosta come inside and sit on the couch. Even brings the guy a glass of water!

We get there and Mr. Acosta has created an elaborate story of how his car wound up smashed in the woods. Evidently, two black guys carjacked and kidnapped him and, lucky for him, a cop started chasing them. They ran from the cop and wrecked his car. He only staggered off into the woods to get help, momentarily forgetting that all he had to do was stay with the car and the police would help. Imagine his plight, being victimized so horribly by those mean black guys and their big guns.

We indulged him for about a minute before calling him a goddamn liar. Seconds later he was reduced to tears and admitted to everything. Way to create one lame-ass story, Mr. Acosta. Looks like it worked out well for you.

Naked Freak

I have to report the most bizarre indecent exposure calls in a while. Two calls about fifteen minutes apart. Gigantic black guy wearing a cut-off purple sleeveless shirt and no pants. He was masturbating while he walked behind women. When they saw him he immediately asked, "Can I use your bathroom?" All the while whacking off!

At the second scene one of the women yelled, "I'm calling the police." The man turned around and skipped-that's right, I said skipped-away, through the sprinklers in the grass. He continued to masturbate while skipping.

Philosophy 101

If the hooker that gives you a blow job turns out to be a man, does that somehow negate the pleasure of the act? I had to ask a guy this same question a while back. I mean, he obviously enjoyed it, because he finished. Everything would have been fine and none the wiser if the transvestite hadn't stole his wallet and been caught. Then, all of a sudden, the John was angry he'd been hornswaggled by a tranny. What a shame. Ruined his fond memory like that.

Puddle Ho

The other night some woman was sitting at the light on Glenwood Avenue, minding her own business, when an idiot in an SUV slammed into the side of her car and took off down T.W. Alexander Blvd. Of course, the SUV was so badly damaged the driver had to abandon it and fled on foot into the woods.

I have to say her life, that is, the suspect's, had to be a lesson in horror for the next hour. She fled barefoot into the woods after midnight with no flashlight. The K-9 officer arrived and we entered the woods and immediately started tracking. Her track meandered back and forth over hills, through briers, down a mud bank into a deep creek, and finally into a drainage ditch overlooking Glenwood Avenue. That's where we found her. Curled up in the foetal position in a mud puddle at least two feet deep. She was sobbing uncontrollably and noticeably drunk.

Nasty Stuff

I was called by a friend who, for no apparent reason, thought it was necessary to report the following information to me:

While waiting in the drive-through line at Wendy's he noticed, sitting mere inches from his car, a colostomy bag full of excrement. Someone, Poseidon only knows why, detached the bag of shit and casually placed it on the pavement. Why?

I then detailed an event from last week in which I noticed a skinny older man throwing up over the outside railing at Pegasis Video (Gay Porn shop). Now, having worked around these places for years, I know they make most of their money on video booths in the back of the shop. And I've been to quite a few calls where someone had sex in a booth and got their wallet stolen in the process. I even met a guy who said his job was to "mop up" the booth's every couple of hours, which he described as the most disgusting job ever.

So I ask you, for a man who has been inside this establishment, and seen the things he's obviously seen, what could cause him to throw up over the railing of the front porch? Had to be nasty!

Kohls Nut

She's a fat sweaty lunatic who called the police. She told the dispatcher she sat her wallet on the counter at the customer service center. When she realized she'd forgotten it, she returned to the counter and the wallet was gone. She only had one recourse, and that was to accuse the clerk of stealing her wallet. Of course the clerk was less than ecstatic to be accused of pilfering, so our nut-job decided she also wanted to complain on the woman for being unprofessional.

So I'm on my way to the call. Half way there dispatch calls me and reports the woman's wallet has been put back in her purse, and she suspects the clerk did it after she dialed 911. She also alleges the manager is aiding the clerk by "covering up" what happened.

I get there and speak with the fat sweaty lunatic. She's red faced and breathing like she just ran a marathon. Completely irrational. "I'm so disgusted right now, officer. That woman stole my wallet. She only put it back in my purse when I went to the front to see if you guys were here."

"Let me get this straight. You think the clerk stole your wallet, so you leave your pocketbook on the counter while you go to the front of the store to see if the police have arrived? Why, if you already think they're stealing from you, would you give them another opportunity?"

"I'm just all stressed out."

"Is there any chance you might have missed your wallet inside the purse? Could it have been in your purse the whole time? It's very unusual that someone would steal your wallet and then sneak it back into your purse."

"It's impossible. She stole the wallet and then put it back in the purse."

An attractive middle aged woman inserts herself into the conversation. "I'm the manager, officer, and I'd like to say that my clerk couldn't have put the wallet back in the purse. As soon as the customer complained, we pulled the clerk from the register and have her waiting in our office."

"Do you have video?" I ask.

"Yes."

I tell the maniac to wait while I review the video. By this point she's called her seventy year old mother up to the store and they're both crying.

There are two cameras that caught the incident, both in excellent position. The red faced sweaty loon never sat her wallet on the counter. I could see quite well that she put the wallet back into her purse and the clerk then busied herself affixing tags to clothing, right in front of the camera. So the stupid cunt had accused everybody of conniving against her for no apparent reason.

I approach her and tell her the news. That she's an idiot and made a fool of herself for no reason. I hope she knows suicide is always an option, you know, like the Japanese used to do. Take a blade and eviscerate yourself from left to right, then maybe have grandma chop the head off with the Thanksgiving electric turkey knife.

After all that she says, "Well, I might have made a mistake, but I still don't feel comfortable shopping here."

"Oh no," I felt like saying. "You don't feel comfortable? We'd hate for you to feel uncomfortable. I mean, your comfort is paramount. Never mind you just accused the entire store of being a bunch of criminals and wasted two police officer's time. We don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Alarm Lunatic

We get an alarm call at a residence at 8:30AM yesterday morning. Upon arrival, one officer notices the rear door is unlocked and calls several of us to search the house, just in case a crime has been committed. We go inside and search, finding nothing unusual. While in the upstairs bedroom, someone rings the doorbell. Someone pushes the button no less than a hundred times before we open it.

"This is my daughter's house," a gray haired woman with bulging eyes announces, pushing her way into the house.

"Okay," I say.

"Where is she?"

"Nobody's here," I say.

"Nobody? Oh my God. Oh my God, where are the children? She has three kids." She bursts into tears. She's completely out of control. "What are you guys gonna do? My daughter's missing?"

"How old is your daughter?" I ask.

"Thirty eight."

She looks over and sees a cell phone on the kitchen table. "Oh God, there's her cell phone. She doesn't go anywhere without it."

"She did today."

"She wouldn't have left her phone."

"When's the last time you talked to her?" I ask.

"We don't talk."

"Don't talk? So why do you think something weird's going on?"

"We just don't talk. I haven't spoken to her in weeks."

About this time the phone rings. It's her daughter. Nothing is wrong. She took her kids to the grocery store and forgot to secure the back door. I fought back the urge to call the mother an idiot.

Back to School

I''m working off duty at Hillsborough Street Textbook, providing security for the students returning to N.C. State University. Thousands of young people have shuffled through the store buying books. Quite often I hear conversations between the students that amuse me. Nobody ever goes negative...and they should.

"I'll probably do two semesters here and then transfer to the coast to become a marine biologist," or "probably gonna get into med school by then."

Why doesn't anyone tell the truth? I mean, probably fifty percent of these bubble heads won't make it. Why don't I hear conversations like? "Yeah, well, I'll probably flunk out by the second semester, develop a raging alcohol problem, and take a job sorting garbage by spring." Or, "I think I'll get pregnant this semester, drop out, live in Section 8 housing for about three years before my baby's daddy gets shot in a gang fight."

"Son, before I send you to school, what are your plans? Well, dad, I'm thinking I'll get by by cheating off my friend's papers before I get expelled after a date-rape scandal. Then I'll move back in with you guys, get addicted to methamphetamine, and steal everything that isn't nailed down before being forced into rehab."

Future Murderer

Unfortunately, I just had to deal with a future murderer. There is a day-treatment mental health facility that specializes in "last chance" kids. This young man was thirteen years old, six feet tall, and probably able to kick all of the male staff's asses if he wanted to. He had braided hair and his shorts were pulled down low on his butt, something I don't quite understand. If the staff wanted to curb any future criminal behavior, they might want to start by making him conform to some sort of structure.

He got angry because he demanded several staff members to stop what they were doing (working) and bring him his deodorant (I agreed that he needed deodorant). When they didn't give him instant gratification he ran outside, picked up a slab of concrete, and threatened to break a window. He was also cursing the staff with great enthusiasm. This kid has obviously gotten everything he's ever wanted by threats and intimidation. And when we got there the staff members asked us not to take any legal action. One of the staff members even reminisced about another kid throwing a brick at her head. I asked if she'd pressed charges and she advised, "No, we decided not to." Great lesson for the kid. Get violent, attack someone with a deadly weapon, and get away with it.

By his demeanor and mannerisms I can only guess today's kid will, at the very least, inflict gross bodily injury on someone in the future. And to beat all, the facility isn't even documenting these incidents. So when he shoots someone there will be no detailed history of his violent behavior, and we all know how much the judges love to cut someone a break. The biggest thing this kid needed was an ass whipping by an older male, just to let him know he can't intimidate the world.

The Wedding

I attended my friend's wedding this past weekend on Emerald Isle. I wish him and his new bride the very best. I was on my best behavior, but, being in close proximity to two other friends who enjoy mischief, couldn't help but think of a variety of ways to make the event ridiculous.

I should have attended the service wearing a beard-of-bees and insisted it was a family tradition, as well as wearing break-away trousers and Spider-man underwear... for the reception.

We contemplated exchanging the lyrics for Hymn 394, which was to be played mid-wedding, with the lyrics to Led Zepplin's "Black Dog."

The pastor, who I can only assume was in his mid-hundreds, forgot what time the service began and arrived as the music started playing. He also forgot half the invocation and even forgot to say, "You may now kiss the bride." As the frantic wedding planner searched for him moments before the event, we couldn't help but think to place a Check-On-Welfare call in case he died the day of the ceremony.

The funniest part of it was my friend's judgment to begin with. I'm an atheist and have Tourrette's Syndrome. Can you think of any worse person to put in a church wedding? The night before I had dreams of shouting, "Praise Satan," over and over in front of the congregation. That would've been cool.

Armed Robbery

Two idiots rob a man at a local party and steal his car. During the robbery, one of the suspects stabs the victim, puncturing his lung. They take his car to an undisclosed location and steal the victim's rims, which are very unusual.

Think about this for a minute. They keep the one piece of evidence that ties them to the crime. Not only that, they put high dollar rims on an eighties Buick Regal with fading paint. Another example of our failing education system.

Bravo England!

We get called to a hit and run on Grove Barton Road. An English fellow got drunk, ran off the road, and smashed into a guardrail doing significant damage to his rental car. We get on scene but the car's gone. Another officer finds it parked in several parking spaces in the rear of a local apartment complex.

About twenty minutes later the driver calls 911. He says he was stressed out by the accident so he and his two friends went to the Linwood Grill for a couple of drinks to relax him. He says he's returning to his car post-haste.

I speak with him at the scene. He's trying to act as if his actions were perfectly reasonable. "I left the scene because the car was drivable and I figured I'd report it later. I was stressed out so I had a couple of drinks to relax. You know what I 'm saying." He paused for a moment, looking at me. "What do you think happened, officer?"

"I think you got drunk, crashed your car into a guardrail, then called your friends. Between the three of you, you hatched this master plan. You'd go back to the bar and have a few drinks. That way you could say, 'I didn't drink anything until after the crash,' and we'd have to believe you. Only it didn't work because the interior of the car you crashed smells like a brewery, which kind of debunks your whole excuse. "

We charged him with drunk driving and hit and run. His two idiot friends demanded my badge number so they could complain. Evidently, the police are not allowed to say they don't believe whatever you tell them. According to them I had to take his statement on the good faith it was true.

Dumbest Quotes

"I know why you writing this ticket. It must be quotation time." (Miscellaneous thug driver)

"I only did heroin to show my girlfriend how stupid it is to do heroin." (Arrested for beating up his girlfriend)

"Desert Eagles are only designed to do one thing, kill people." (Unnamed D.A. who didn't seem to realize all guns are designed to kill people)

Wral.com Opinion Survey Question:
"Do you think it is unethical for 'The Slammer' newspaper to publish arrest photos of people who have not been convicted of a crime? (From a website that publishes photos of people not yet convicted of crimes)

CCBI Stupidity

The City County Bureau of Identification is where cops process arrestee's. Like any other government agency, it is fraught with mismanagement and waste. But the employees work very hard, so I'm not trying to bash them.

This weekend I spent nearly twenty hours waiting on prisoners to be finished with processing. The reason for this is on weekends police make high numbers of arrests. But CCBI is under-staffed. The genius that devised their schedule has the same amount of processing agents working on Monday morning as they do on weekend nights, when the place is overrun with drunk drivers.

If this were a position in the private sector they would fire the manager for incompetence. But because it is a government position, and they are not fiscally rewarded for good management, this clown continues to occupy the position. And we continue to get answers like, "Upper management is aware of the situation and will address it soon."

Arresting the Victim

I responded to a stabbing call recently in which a Mexican male had been slashed across the hand during a drunken party fight. The wound was minor, and in his inebriated condition he didn't seem to feel it. I asked for some form of identification to use for the police report. He responded by telling me he was an illegal immigrant and didn't have a license to drive.

I assisted in locating, chasing down, and arresting the suspect. After this I gave the victim his case report number and bid him a good night.

Later, maybe thirty minutes later, I saw the victim driving away on Deep Hollow Drive. He ran a stop sign and I couldn't help but remember he had no license and was quite drunk at the scene. I could barely believe he was that stupid. No, I take that back. I can completely believe he, and most every other drunk driver/criminal, are that stupid.

I arrested him for drunk driving. He was booked and photographed. Two days later I was contacted by I.C.E. Evidently they decided to ship him back to Mexico... express delivery.

Cursed by God

Years ago myself and another officer stopped an older lady for a traffic violation. She was quite upset with the ticket I gave her and screamed, "I rebuke you in the name of the Lord!" Then, she glanced back at my partner who, until this point had said nothing to her, merely standing at the passenger side of my patrol car waiting for me to finish, and says, "and that officer too!" He threw his hands up in confusion and giggled, "What did I do?" The old lady sped off, furious.

I never thought I'd be in this position again. But the other night it happened.

I was leaving Eagle's gas station when my exit was completely blocked by a small blue car, sitting idle, at the rear of the store where Marvino Lane intersects the driveway. I assumed the car would move, but after nearly an entire minute passed with no traffic blocking the car's route, I honked my horn. The driver fidgeted around in the car and then turned right, the front left tires of the car crossing the double yellow lines. I suspected the driver might be under the influence of alcohol. I followed and noticed the driver was weaving in the lane. I turned on my blue lights on and stopped the car.

Upon approaching the driver I realized she was not drunk. She was a massive black woman. Balanced on her lap was a Bojangles biscuit (I'm almost certain it was a fatback biscuit) and a cup of tea. So she had stopped in the middle of the intersection, blocking everyone else's movement, to eat!

"Why did you stop me, officer?"

"You were blocking the lane back at the gas station. And you were driving in an erratic manner."

"I was not! What is your name?"

I'm always surprised when people think the best way to speak to an officer is to be confrontational. "Corporal Hines, mam. I need your license and registration."

She gives it to me and then says. "I wasn't blocking the intersection. I am diabetic and I needed to get something on my stomach."

"You couldn't have pulled into a parking space to eat? You drove all the way from the Bojangles with your food, so I know you passed quite a few."

"I don't think you pulled me because of my driving. I think you pulled me because I'm African American. That's why you pulled me over!"

"Wait right here, mam," I tell her. I walk back to my car and write her a ticket for unsafe driving. I then return and give it to her.

"You've got to be kidding me! You're a racist!"

I ignore her comments and explain the court process to her. She tries to argue the specifics of the ticket and I tell her she can debate it in court. I then walk back to my car. As I get ready to sit down she rolls out of the driver seat and I see the car rise at least four inches.

"I'm going to call Mike Easley's office on you! You'll be lucky to keep your job."

I just stand there ignoring her lunacy.

"Barack Obama is going to get elected. Then all this is going to change." She giggles madly. "You don't like that, do you? Barack Obama. Barack Obama. You don't like me saying his name do you? What are you going to do when he's elected?"

"I voted for him in the primary," I said.

She looked as if the wind had been pulled from her sail, although she was much larger than any boat I've seen. Maybe if she quit stuffing her face with biscuits, she wouldn't have to take insulin.

"I know who will get you, officer," she spat. "God will judge you! You will stand before him and he'll set you straight. In fact, I curse you! I curse you in God's name!" Her face twisted for a moment, possibly the realization that she'd finally lost her mind. "Maybe I shouldn't say that," she says. "But you'll get yours!"

Finally she sat her fat ass back inside the car and sped off, muttering. I can only imagine some poor guy that had to listen to her incessant rambling for the next two hours after she got home. I'm sure that guy curses me as well.

Black Hole of Stupidity

Texas County Official Sees Race in Term 'Black Hole'
Friday, July 11, 2008

Dallas County Commissioner John Wiley Price
DALLAS — What do "black hole," "angel food cake," and "devil's food cake" have in common?
They're all racist terms, says a Dallas County, Texas, official. A county commissioners' meeting this week over traffic tickets turned into a tense discussion over race when one commissioner said the county's collections office was like a certain astronomical phenomenon.

"It sounds like Central Collections has become a black hole," Commissioner Kenneth Mayfield, who is white, said during the Monday meeting. One black official demanded an apology, and Commissioner John Wiley Price, who also is black, said that type of language is unacceptable.
At the meeting, Mayfield said he intended his comments to be taken in the context of the scientific meaning, and became upset that he was being misunderstood. In astronomy, the term black hole refers to a star that has collapsed upon itself, creating something so dense and small that it does not have any physical properties besides a gravitational force so great that even light cannot escape its pull.

Later, Price told MyFOX.com that he believed it and other terms were racist.
"So if it's 'angel food cake,' it's white. If it's 'devil's food cake,' it's black. If you're the 'black sheep of the family,' then you gotta be bad, you know. 'White sheep,' you're okay. You know?" Price said. Price said people should watch their words when it comes to stereotypes.
"I think people should always be careful. You know, I'm okay if I'm 'bartering' with you. ... But if I try to 'Jew you down,' Oooooh. Is that racist? I thought it meant the same thing? No, maybe it doesn't."

The world-renowned physicist Stephen Hawking might have a solution to the problem over perception of the astronomical term. He refers to the phenomenon as "a singularity."

I'd really like to understand how 'black hole' is racist. The man was comparing the city's poor accounting practices to a collapsed star that, due to having immense gravitational pull, sucks everything in. It's an excellent comparison. It is called a black hole because the gravity is so strong not even light escapes. Not because astrophysicist's are racist. Look at this guy's picture. It's quite clear he's using race to avoid the issue.

"Where's all the money going, John? Did it get sucked into a black hole?"

"Black? Did you say black? Now I don't have to answer the question. I can simply call you a racist and spend the next few weeks posturing and acting like a fool."

P.T.S.D.

I got a call at a local Yoga gym. That's right, a call at a Yoga gym involving some sort of disturbance. I'm not making this up! Evidently, the owner of the facility didn't want one of the students to come back after an altercation. I arrive and meet the owner at the door. While I'm speaking to him I can't help but notice a woman hurriedly walking toward us. She's wearing the most god-awful outfit a human could put together. She has some sort of flimsy summer hat pulled down over her head almost to the eyebrow, sitting just above a pair of gigantic sunglasses that would have made Corey Hart jealous.

"Officer, I need to speak with you."

"I'll hear your side in a moment, mam."

"No, I need to talk first."

"Mam, I'll be with you in a minute." We shut the door so the business owner can explain what happened.

She opens the door and sticks her head in. "I want to hear what you guys are saying about me, officer. I have a constitutional right to hear."

"No, you don't," I tell her. "He doesn't want you on his property. So you have to wait out there."
She smacks her lips loudly and shuts the door.

The owner tells me he teaches the Yoga classes himself. He says he doesn't actually do the poses, but walks around aiding the students with technique. He says the crazy hat woman joined the class several months before and, for no good reason, wore gigantic hats to the class. They practice Yoga in a 105 degree sauna. Wearing a restrictive hat would trap heat in her body and endanger her. He asked her to stop wearing the hat. She protested, but eventually agreed to stop wearing it. Then, upon being approached by complaining students, he had to speak to her again. She must smoke like a chimney and, when exercising in a 105 degree sauna, the smell of cigarettes becomes overwhelming. So he asked her to not smoke before coming.

Everything went well for one month. But then a day before this altercation she showed up for class wearing a Sombrero and smelling like a Marlboro. He asked her to leave and she threw a tantrum, cursing him out in front of the class and threatening to sue.

At this point I spoke with her. I couldn't even get a word out before she started unwrapping.

"I have P.T.S.D. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'm a rape victim!"

"What does that have to do with today?" I ask.

"He bullied and intimidated me. I want him arrested. And I want him to refund all my money immediately."

"The money is a civil matter, mam. But he is a business owner and doesn't want you on his property anymore. So I have to trespass you."

"But I'm a victim. I'm a rape victim. I have P.T.S.D. He should have to go to a class on P.T.S.D."

"No, he shouldn't," I say. "You should just stay away from the Yoga studio. Maybe buy some DVD's or pick it up on cable. But no more coming here. Got it?"

"I understand. I'm going to sue him for violating my civil rights. And I'm going to sue the police department for aiding in the intimidation and disrespect of a private citizen who has P.T.S.D."

Then she shimmied down the sidewalk with a hand on her ridiculous hat. Several patrons of a nearby eating establishment were watching and shaking their heads from side to side as if to say, "We're sorry you have to deal with that."

Conversation With A Killer

I booked a murderer two days ago. Evidently, after learning one of his girlfriends (I say one because he told me he has lots of women, but no personal attachment) was pregnant. According to his charges, he murdered the girl by shooting her in the head. During our conversation I learned about the way he perceives the world.

First he told me he had four children by four different women and was unemployed. I asked him where he worked.

"I'm unemployed. I was trying to get on unemployment," he said.

"How do you afford so many kids?"

"It ain't like that," he replied.

"Like what?"

"I don't pay child support. We still friends," he said, smiling as if I didn't understand the way our civilization works. "You see, if you stay friends with the baby's mama, you don't have to pay. So I make sure to visit mines at least once a month. That way the mama ain't mad and I don't pay no child support."

This guy's 23, unemployed, and has four kids (would have been five but he went ahead and aborted both child and mother).

"So you don't feel responsible for the kids in any way?"

"Naw," he said, laughing. "The mama take care of the baby."

A short time later he further revealed how ignorant a human can be. He is charged with Capital Murder, a crime punishable by death. But he quite seriously asks, "Do you think they'll give me house arrest? I want to chill out for a while before the trial."

"House arrest for murder?" I replied trying not to laugh. "I doubt it."

"What about a lie detector?" He asked. "If I pass a lie detector will I get off?"

Facetiously I respond, "Some sociopaths can beat lie detectors."

He has no idea I'm being sarcastic, just sitting there with a blank stare. It's a damn shame we have to waste tax money keeping this guy alive.

Profit Ministry

I was scrolling through the channels this morning while having my first cup of java when I stumbled upon a fat black preacher. He was trying to convince his congregation that wanting money is okay by God. His line of rationalization was that, and I quote, "We are just taking the money back from the sinners. You see, folks, the money was ours to begin with. God wants us to have the money!"

Several times he smiled at the camera and said, "I love money. I want all the money to come my way."

Evidently he ignored the scripture that suggests its easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Personally, I don't believe any of this crap, but if you profess to be all "righteous," seems you might actually follow the doctrine of Jesus. He said to give up all your possessions and follow him to salvation. There I go again, quoting passages I believe are horseshit.

Nobody Cares

The kid is passed out on a display swing two feet from the entrance of Harris Teeter. His head is slumped over and his tongue hangs out. Hundreds of people walk past, but nobody cares. The manager sees him in the chair and pays little attention. Six hours later she walks out and sees he is in the exact same position. Now she fears he's dead.

EMS get the kid awake. His pupils are constricted and he's trying to explain to them that he's not on drugs and doesn't know how he passed out at the grocery store. He sees me approach. I recognize him. I've arrested him before....for selling and using unauthorized prescription medication. The last time I saw him he was lying in a ditch with his stupid friends. Their Jeep was burning, flames no less than twenty feet high, in the wrong lane of Leesville Road with a set of two hundred plus feet skid marks. They tried to tell me nothing happened. I wound up arresting the whole lot of them for first degree lunacy.

Today he sees me and stops his explanation. He just sits there with his stupid mouth open.

"Is he going to die?" I ask.

Nobody answers. The paramedics look confused.

"How much did you take, Ryan?" I ask.

"I...uh...didn't"

"Shut up," I interrupt. "How much did you take?"

"I took four pills. I was only supposed to take one. It was anxiety medication."

The paramedic looks pissed. "Then why are you lying to us. We're here to help you, man."

I leave immediately. If he wants to get blasted in the parking lot of Harris Teeter and spend the afternoon baking in the sun like a lizard, what do I care?

No License

I'm pulling into the Kangaroo Mart on Creedmoor Road. As I cruise up to the pumps I notice a black guy, his head wrapped in a do-rag, walking to a Jeep Cherokee. He sees my patrol car and suddenly looks like he's seen a ghost. He immediately turns away and quickly hops into the Jeep. His exit out of the parking lot couldn't have been faster but, unluckily enough for him, he failed to give a signal or come to a complete stop. And his behavior was like a beacon, "Stop my car! I don't have a license! I probably have warrants!"

I pull him over and he launches into a tirade. "Why did you pull me over? A black man can't drive without getting pulled over. "

I run his license and, of course, its suspended. Not only that, he's failed to appear in court thirty eight times before , so issuing him a ticket is a lesson in futility. He won' t come to court. I approach and ask him to get out of the car. As he pulls out his wallet a blunt wrapper falls out.

"Do you have any weed in the car?" I ask.

"Why would I have weed? Just because I'm black I smoke weed?"

"No, I just noticed you dropped your blunt wrapper on the ground."

"That ain't mine," he says, his face twisted into a snarl.

"Whatever," I say. Then I arrest him. While I'm searching the Jeep he calls his girlfriend. She shuffles up to the scene from their apartment, which is no more than one hundred yards from the store. She's thirteen months pregnant, sweating profusely, hyperventilating, and followed by a four year old girl. "Ya'll need to quit messing with him. He ain't done nothing. He was just going to the store to get a pack of Newports before I go to work."

Are you hearing this? The guy has a suspended license and numerous convictions for driving without a license. He's failed to appear in court thirty eight times so he knows if he gets arrested for driving he'll have a massive bond. But he's too lazy to walk one minute to the store. He'd risk everything to drive rather than walk.

Religious Woo Woo

Indian school names monkey god as its chairman

By BISWAJEET BANERJEE Associated Press Writer
LUCKNOW, India — He's a revered Hindu monkey god. And now, he's the chairman of an Indian business school.Hanuman, the popular god known for his strength and valor, has been named official chairman of the recently opened Sardar Bhagat Singh College of Technology and Management in northern India, a school official said Saturday.The position comes with an incense-filled office, a desk and a laptop computer. Four chairs will be placed facing the empty seat reserved for the chairman and all visitors must enter the office barefoot, said Vivek Kangdi, the school's vice chairman."It is our belief that any job that has the blessings of Lord Hanuman is bound to be a success," said Kangdi.All Hindus know that Hanuman can lift mountains and leap oceans, but ancient texts make no mention of his business acumen."When we were looking for a chairman for our institution, we scanned many big names in the field of technology and management. Ultimately, we settled for Lord Hanuman, as none was bigger than him," Kangdi said.Hanuman is one of the most popular gods in the crowded pantheon of Hindu deities. His most famous feat, as described in the Hindu epic the Ramayana, was leading a monkey army to fight the demon King Ravana and rescue a kidnapped princess.The Sardar Bhagat Singh College in Lucknow, the capital of Uttar Pradesh, India's most populous state, awards bachelor's degrees in engineering and management. The school opened last year.

Just the kind of rational thing I would expect some religious buffoon to do.

Ode To Swimmers

Last Friday officer from our Fugitive Task Force went to serve a warrant for robbery on some jackass. Evidently, he'd gotten a job under another name, but someone saw his wanted poster and called to tip off the police. So two fugitive officers find the guy at work. They approach and a foot pursuit ensues. The guy jumps a fence and runs for about a half mile before coming to a small lake.

I won't even make a joke here. I should, but I won't. The guy runs out into the lake and drowns. We recover his carcass, along with a bag of crack cocaine, several hours later.

His autopsy reveals another interesting story. A year before this idiot was strolling down Martin Street with another Blood Gang member. This other guy, for no apparent reason, was waiving a pistol around and screaming, "Everybody know me, yo!" While he's screaming he fires the pistol repeatedly in the air and then brings it back down. Only he forgets to stop pulling the trigger and shoots this guy, his best friend, in the chest. The medical examiner digs the bullet out.

Crazy Man

Nothing snaps me back to reality like dealing with a fresh dose of "crazy." Yesterday, a concerned son (and by concerned I mean someone who reported his father might attempt suicide but refused to bring a key over so we could check on his welfare) called for our help. We get there and knock on the door for ten minutes before he finally opened up. I asked, "Can we come in?"

His response, "Not without a warrant, cop!" His black hair was plastered to his head and his glasses looked like Michael Douglas a la "Falling Down." In fact, the best way I can describe this guy is that he looked just like the crazy scientist in "Repo Man." And he was even crazier.

"Hey, guy, we just want to come in and make sure everybody is okay inside the apartment. Your son called and said you were having problems."

"Are you in the military?" He asks. He is sweating profusely.

"No."

"Aha!" He exclaims. Do you want to help the soldiers with body armor?"

"Of course," I reply. "Look, I don't want to disturb you any further. I don't want to search your home or anything like that, I just want to make sure everyone's safe."

"I'm going to China. I want to be a communist!" He giggles nervously.

"I strongly suggest it," I reply. "You should get your passport immediately."

To make a long story short, the guy's apartment is full of nonsensical clutter. Magazines, Twinkies wrappers, party balloons, dirty clothing, strange stains, etc. Things that really don't make sense together, like a toilet plunger balanced atop a lamp. He would have been the perfect candidate for that Saturday Night Live commercial advertising a car perfectly designed for crazy people. I remember the commentator saying, "The trunk is spacious, easily holding 144 Mason jars filled with urine." Just what every nut needs.

Gay Old Man

On the 6000 block of Glenwood Avenue are a variety of stores. Walmart, Chick Filet, Smoker Friendly, and Big Lots are just a few. Then there are the more sordid establishments. Pegasus Video is a gay porno shop. Why is it these establishment are frequented mainly by older white guys, most of which I see wearing wedding rings.

I'm stopped at the stop sign near Pep Boys when I see grandpa sneaky pulling in. He's wearing a spiffy little street hat, a yellow Polo Shirt, and plaid shorts. A sparkling watch glimmers as he saunters across the parking lot, smiling. I see the wedding ring.

Somehow he's rationalized that having gay sex in a porno booth with an anonymous stranger doesn't really count as cheating on his wife. I mean, just ask Senator Larry Craig.

Migrant Lunch

Neighbors call the police when three Mexican men trespass on the property of a north Raleigh home. The men, unbeknownst to the neighbors, were soliciting work. They parked on the street, approached the home, knocked on the door, and peered in through the windows. Anyone seeing this could only assume they were casing the home for a burglary. Only they weren't.

I guess it was about lunch time, so the three men figured it would be a good idea to sit in the front yard of the home and eat a nice lunch of cactus and peach nectar. The neighbors called the police and converged on the scene, blocking the Hispanic men's truck in.

We get there and the scene is very amusing. Three Mexicans sitting in the grass, casually eating lunch as if there weren't a posse of middle-aged white people blocking their truck in. I think the neighbors wanted us to cart them off, flog them, douse them in gasoline, and set them on fire. But, of course, they had no intentions of committing a crime. They just have no concept of normal etiquette.

Suspicious Garbage

I get a call to Brier Creek concerning a suspicious item. Evidently, the complainant found a suspicious looking bag on the sidewalk in front of his home. I get there and examine the bag. It's an empty Macy's bag. I see another one about fifty yards up the street. Obviously the bags either blew out of a vehicle or were dragged down the street by some kid. But I guess this guy wanted some sort of criminal investigation of the garbage. The garbage scared him. Maybe he had some sort of traumatic experience as a child during which one or both of his parents stuffed him in a dumpster. Too bad he got out.

Wong Answer

Last week a N.C. State Trooper was killed by a pathetic piece of shit named Edwardo Wong. Mr. Wong had close to twenty prior felonies, including a prior attempted murder charge where he shot another cop. Luckily the first cop survived. But why would they let this guy out? This type of crap is why I loathe activists. These people crybaby to judges and parole boards. "His childhood was very hard. His daddy didn't love him. They didn't have enough money." And some liberal sissy lets Edwardo out of prison, as if he's not just going to go out and murder somebody.

He should have been boiled down in a vat of acid. If someone would shoot a cop, they'd certainly shoot the average citizen. I'm sick of second chances and pity for the bad guy. If you hurt someone or stuff a gun in someone's face, they should do the world a favor and put a bullet in your head.

Custody Fight

I'm called to an elementary school by the principal. The call notes advise an out-of-state mother is trying to sign her children, who haven't stayed with her in years, out of class. She intends to take them back to Indiana for the summer. The father and his new girlfriend are at the school. They don't want her to have the children.

I arrive and speak with dad. He and his girlfriend seem reasonable. He tells me his ex-wife tried to commit suicide two years ago with the children in the house at the time. He says she's in a Narcotics Anonymous group and under the care of a psychiatrist. He says, since the attempted suicide, he's kept the children with him and she's only had two supervised visits. Unfortunately he's never modified the custody agreement, which says she gets the children from June 11th through August 1st.

I then speak with the principal, who is young and stressed out. He's called the school superintendant, who is calling their attorneys. He wants to wait until he gets clarification as to who should get the children. Clarification from people sitting in an office somewhere who have no idea what's going on.

He leads me to the mother. She's sitting in a chair, twitching her lips. In two seconds I can tell something is wrong with her. She's "tweaking" like someone ready for a fix. I ask her a few questions and the following comes out. She tried to kill herself two years ago, but her ex-husband is not telling the truth because, although the kids were with her, her roomate was also their to supervise the kids. So they would have been taken care of if she died (and this makes it alright). She is unemployed, living with friends, and recently left the care of her psychiatrist, against his wishes. She also decided to take herself off all of her medications. She tells me the meds were the problem. "Now that I'm not seeing a doctor or taking meds, everything's fine! I just want to take the kids for the summer." She's smiling like someone who might just bake the kids in a pie.

While I get her statement the husband decides to sign the kids out and leave. The agreement is a copy from another state, therefore we really can't intervene (nor would I want to). Amazingly, the principal sprints across the parking lot and stands behind the moving vehicle. I ask him what he's doing. He tells me he has to wait until the bureaucrats tell him what to do. I tell him to get out of the path of the vehicle. I can see he's visibly relieved that I've essentially taken him out of the equation, because making a decision is more than anyone can bear these days. I mean, what if you're wrong?

He later told me the bureaucrats had decided to let the insane woman take the kids in accordance with the agreement, even though it was a copy without a notary seal, barely readable, and held by a grinning psychotic.

Everything Happens For A Reason

I couldn't be any more sick of these idiots that proclaim, "Everything happens for a reason." Guess what? Very little happens for a reason. I'm so tired of this. Assigning some divine purpose for their mistakes? I can't tell you how many drunk drivers have told me everything happens for a reason. As if Yahweh commanded them to suck down a gallon of Pabst and then crash into a telephone pole. That's what their God is reduced to? When I farted five minutes ago, was that his divine will? Is he so bored he's reduced to micromanaging my bladder? If there were a God that passed his time controlling every minute detail of the universe, I would choose to ignore him for that very reason.

Miscellaneous Absurdity

I had court last week. Court is amusing in that there are always in excess of three hundred people shoe-horned into a room designed for two hundred, all in a hurry to dispose of or continue their cases. Unfortunately for them court is the slowest process ever designed. The same thing happens every month. They sit for hours on wooden benches before being told their cases are "not reached" and to come back the next month. Sore assed and angry, they leave dissatisfied. I can't help but appreciate the humor.

One of my coworkers, an amorphous blob who has a Myspace page full of pictures from a time when he wasn't morbidly obese, sits several seats down from me. I watch as pit stains creep down his shirt, fascinated by their flow. After four hours they reach his floating rib, an amazing accomplishment.

The next day I go for my morning coffee at Starbucks. An old man is waiting to go inside as I pull up. Get this, he's wearing a checkered button up short sleeve shirt with the top button fastened, plaid shorts that in no way match the shirt, and black shoes. But most disturbing are his sock pants. That's right, sock pants! The guy has bright white socks that actually cover his knees. They look like leggings a dancer might wear, only he's seventy and sporting a Santa beard.

Finally, several hours later, I go to BP for a Monster Energy. Inside I notice a line of about eight people waiting to pay. At the front of the line is a maniac. He has an assortment of items on the counter: Pork Skins, Disposable Razors, Superglue, WD-40, Chewing Gum, Root Beer, Gold Bond Foot Powder, Nasal Spray, etc. A bunch of items that, when viewed together, don't make logical sense. He sees me and immediately says, "Hey officer, do you know Davis?"

"No," I say.

"Really, you don't know Davis?"

"No."

He walks back to where I'm standing and points to my name tag. "Hines, is it? I saw Greg Hines dancing down the boulevard earlier today. Marvelous dancer."

"Don't know him."

"You don't know Greg Hines? Very popular dancer."

"You mean, Gregory Hines, the tap dancer?" I say.

"Yeah, yeah, Gregory Hines. I saw him earlier."

"I think he died several years ago, buddy. So if you saw him, you might want to consider getting some sort of help."

He strolls back up to the front of the line, smiling like a jackass. "What do you think?" He addresses the clerk. "What kind of cigarette do you think I should smoke. I've heard a lot about those Marlboros, but I see people smoking Winstons also. What do you think?"

The Nigerian clerk is not amused. "I don't care. Can you please hurry up?"

"Yeah," a random customer in line exclaims. "Hurry up, I gotta get back to work."

Crazy man reaches down and picks up a combo pack of Grizzly Chewing Tobacco in a cardboard case. Evidently it comes with a Grizzly pocket knife, all for the low price of $7.99. "This is a nice knife. I have a knife that looks like this." He looks back at me. "My knife looks a lot like this. Is that okay? If you pull me over I don't want to get arrested for it."

I don't say anything.

"I'm buying this for you, officer. What was it, Hines? You look intimidating with those sunglasses on. Can I?" He walks toward me. "I just want to get up under those glasses to see what I'm dealing with."

"Get away from me," I say.

"Ha, ha, ha..." He laughs for an unreasonably long period of time. "I get it. You know Davis. Ha. Alright." He turns back to the clerk. "Here you go," he says, handing a credit card to the angry Nigerian. The man swipes the card and it is immediately declined. "Oh, sorry, wrong card," he says, handing the man a second card. It is also declined. The clerk looks like he' s ready to commit murder. Finally the guy pulls out a third card and pays. He walks out waiving at everyone waiting in line. "Hope to see all of you again, soon."

I watch to make sure he doesn't get into a car, as I'm sure he'd crash it in mere seconds. He saunters off on foot toward a local crappy hotel. I pay for my soda and turn to leave. The clerk addresses me. "Hey, I think you forgot this." He holds up the Grizzly Chewing Tobacco combo pack.

"What?" I ask.

"The guy bought this for you. It's yours."

"I don't chew tobacco, sir. And I don't want anything that guy touched. Give it to someone who chews." I leave the store thoroughly confused.

Top Button

I've run across a disturbing new fashion trend. It seems morbidly obese people are wearing short sleeve shirts with the top collar button fastened. Why? I can't explain it. I saw a massive Hispanic fellow stuffed in a Polo like pork sausage in an intestine. His top button was fastened, which appeared to be cutting off the circulation to his head.

Please, unreasonably large people, don't perpetuate this trend.

Faster Please

I work part time at a Mental Health Assessment Center. In the past I worked for several Mental Health Facilities as a "Technician," or better termed goon. I assisted in restraining out of control patients while the Pscyh-Nurse administered sedatives. Currently I'm just in uniform to prevent violence against the staff.

A current trend I've encountered for some time now disturbs me. Drug dependant patients come in droves. Many are not insured. What's funny is the assessment center takes a lot of time with each case. They have to call hospitals, arrange a variety of services, and call a magistrate to generate commitment papers. It can be quite a wait.

People get belligerent with the staff. They come in, demand free service, and then complain about how long their free service is taking. Can you believe it? My free service isn't fast enough. I want immediate gratification with my free service.

LARPing is Gay

Do I even need to comment on this picture. I was tooling around on Youtube and ran across several LARP (Live Action Role Playing for those not in the know) videos. I don't even think I need to make a joke here, but I can't seem to help myself.

1) Why are all the people engaging in combat ridiculously fat?

2) Is this some kind of continuation of the Renaissance Fair? Only gayer?

3) I'll bet money these people were trying to speak with thick English accents. Evidently, in fantasy world, everybody speaks with an English accent.

I'll bet these are the same schmucks I saw dressed in character for the premiere of The Lord Of The Rings. I expect to see one of these guys no A&E's Intervention in the near future. Maybe have the guy's family waiting for him on the couch. "Hey Tommy, we're here to tell you we can't go on living like this. You're not an Ogre! You're a morbidly obese High School dropout. "

Courthouse Buffoonery

Take a look at these two pictures. Which would you consider to be a dangerous weapon?Evidently, the security elites at the Wake County Courthouse are not sure. As a police officer, it is customary for me to wear my .45 caliber pistol when attending court, as the rooms are usually full of no less than two hundred people I either arrested or pissed off. Before entering, everyone has to walk through a metal detector. Now, lets ignore the obvious question: "If you're in uniform and wearing a pistol, what is the purpose of walking through the metal detector?" Don't even ask that one. Common sense doesn't apply here. Just arbitrarily following some written directive regardless of any circumstance.

Even funnier than this policy is that I have to take off my radio and run it through the metal detector so the consummate security professionals, usually involved with other activities such aseating, talking loudly, or cosmetology, can determine if my Motorola is a bomb.

So, let's dissect this. They have no problem with me carrying a .45 caliber firearm with forty rounds of ammunition into the courtroom, but the radio worries them. Interesting...

Pink Dildo Rampage

Working off duty at the mental health treatment facility brings back memories. I used to moonlight at mental hospital when I was with the Department of Correction, and I do the same now as a police officer. If you listen to those around you, soon you'll amass an endless supply of strange stories.

One such story involved numerous reports of a man harassing swimmers at several local pools. This guy would come to the pool wearing a trench coat, one I imagine he stole from a Thrift Store, and no shirt. He also wore a ball cap and sunglasses like those artist renderings of the "Uni-bomber" from several years back.

He'd approach the pool and produce a large pink dildo. He would then target specific people at the pool and try to touch them with the dildo, usually creating quite a disturbance. This happened several times in a short span of time. Now, every time I get a call to a swimming pool, I can't help but think I might get accosted by a dildo wielding freak.

Rims

Domestic dispute calls are ever increasing. I guess the divorce rate must be up to about 90% by now. Several days ago we went to a call involving a splitting couple. The woman alleged her husband, an unemployed aspiring rapper, was cheating on her with another woman. She insisted his name was not on their lease and wanted us to remove him immediately.

The guy responded to her anger by repeatedly smacking his lips and muttering, "Whatever." He agreed to pack up some things for the night. Now here's the great part. He didn't go inside and pack clothes, toiletries, money, etc. He went to the backyard and loaded up his SUV with four 20" tires and rims. That seemed to be the only thing he was concerned about. His rims.

More Nonsense

Just another example of how our educational system is failing miserably:

I stop a car that has no brake lights. The driver nervously tells me, "It's his car. We're going to the grocery store to get bandages for his hurt foot."

"Let me see your license," I say.

"I'll give you his. It's his car." The driver looks over to his morbidly obese passenger and extends a hand.

"You're driving, sir. I need to see your license."

"Uh," he stammers. "I don't have it with me, but I know my name."

"You know your name?" I ask. "That's convenient. How about stepping back to my patrol car and we'll run it on my computer."

"Okay," he says, smiling broadly, like we're old friends.

I sit him in the back seat of my car and shut the door. I then pull up the search browser on my computer. "What's the name?" I ask. He gives me something that just doesn't sound right. Stumbles on the spelling of the middle name. He's now sweating profusely.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"Forty four," he replies.

We talk for a few more minutes and I ask about his work, if he's married, anything to distract him from the age question. Then, without warning, I quickly ask, "What's your birth date?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me! What is your birth date?" I can see his eyes go up and to the left, as if he's calculating the answer. "Just tell me, sir."

"Uh, January 27, 1927."

"Really?" I ask. He seems satisfied with his answer.

"Yeah."

"So you're eighty one years old?" The guy is obviously in his thirties. "Man, you look real good for your age."

"Oh, I meant to say January 27, 1964."

"There's a big difference between 1927 and 1964," I say.

"I'm just nervous, man. Sometimes I get nervous."

He stuck to his lies until the bitter end, which came when I arrested him and searched the car. Underneath the driver seat (the most convenient hiding place) I found his wallet. Inside, I was able to identify him by his N.C. Department of Correction identification card. He was also wanted for Probation Violation and several other warrants for arrest. A real genius.

Odd Statements

Sometimes, while at work, I hear ridiculous statements made by people that make me wonder, "Did I just hear that? What the hell could that possible mean?" Like when Lewis Black recalled overhearing a woman say, "If it weren't for that horse I'd have finished college..." Then he pondered, "What the hell did she mean?"

I hear things all the time that make me wonder, "What the hell? How am I going to go forward with life without knowing what the hell he/she meant?"

Several examples:

"If you'd have let me some, my legs would'a started working."

"My case-worker called and, the next thing I knew, I was spending two years in Rocky Mount."

"That Port-a-Potty smelled so bad I was almost unable to masturbate."

Moral Absolutes

I had a class last week on Ethics and Morality. The instructor pondered the morality of lying on the witness stand or utilitarianism The ends justify the means) in general. His opinions, and, by that I mean the material he was given to teach, was oversimplified. It was apparent he was trying to quantify moral absolutes in police work. Glossing over science and religion, he seemed to target the philosophy of moral relativism. Defining it as morality relative to the individual, he quantified it with the statement: "If you believe it's right, then it's right." His example was of a man that believed murder was okay, therefore it was okay. What he seemed to miss was relativism not only applies to the individual, but also the situation during which choices are made.

The following scenario was provided. There is a murderer loose in Raleigh. Every Sunday the murderer kills an innocent child. You are a police officer. The department believes they know the identity of the murderer, but, as always, they don't have sufficient probable cause to make an arrest. A common theme in police work. You develop informants who tell you, "That's the guy," or information that identifies a potential suspect. But, without video, fingerprints, or any corroborating evidence, arresting the suspect would result in an acquittal at trial. Therefore, you are left in the unfortunate juxtaposition of having to wait for more information before making an arrest. Which means you might have to wait for him/her to commit another crime. Not a pretty scenarion if the guy is killing children, or anyone else for that matter.

So, the scenario is you stop the guy on Saturday, knowing he'll kill again on Sunday. You don't have any reason to make an arrest, but, as luck would have it, you made a drug arrest several hours before and have three crack cocaine rocks in an evidence baggie. Do you plant a rock on the suspect to keep him from killing on Sunday. Or do you follow your sworn code of ethics and let the guy go?

I found it disconcerting everyone in the class decided to let the guy go. I don't think the instructor thought the scenario through. He even chided prior officers who'd pondered planting evidence on the criminal. "You can't lower your ethical standards in any situation." This sounds great. Personally, I'd never lie under oath or cheat someone, but to save a child's life? Given the absolute of knowing the guy would kill again the next day? I think he (and the class) simplified the choice.

Were it not for the fact we were about to be released for the day, and I-loving my time off-wanted to go home, I'd have posed a few questions to muddy his pool of morality. "What if you were to stumble upon a time machine, sir, and travel forward to Monday, only to find out the child killed was your own? Would you be so pious in your decision if it affected you, personally?" Of course you wouldn't! The rock would be planted and the kid saved. Morality is easy if you have nothing to lose personally.

Or let me pose this conundrum. You stumble upon a time machine and are transported back to 1928 in Germany. You just happen upon a young Adolf Hitler before he becomes the powerful Nazi leader. You are alone with him. Would you commit murder to save millions of lives? How could you not? Is it wrong to murder under such conditions?

Utilitarianism views the outcome. I love the phrase: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions," even though it has religious overtones of which I do not subscribe. Why, just because your motives are for good, are bad decisions not attributed to those with good intentions? Case in point: AIDS. The most viable theory we have concerning this virus is that, upon working on a vaccine for Polio, scientists used Chimpanzee kidneys to culture the vaccine. Thereby mixing monkey viruses with human inoculations. Ethically, is this evil? The scientists working on the vaccine were most certainly striving for the good of humanity? But they might have killed millions of people. Utilitarianism uses the outcome to judge, not the intentions.

Understanding this principle, murdering one to save millions might be the ethical choice, right? Not according to my instructor. Evidently, adhering to moral absolutes is more important than millions of lives. But, as I demonstrated with my examples, if the scenario hits home the decision almost certainly changes. I guess relativism isn't such a bad word after all.

Trifecta

I watched "Jury Duty" today, much to my pleasure. I now see there is no better system in the world than our own judicial system. Today a case concerning a car crash was adjudicated by Mini-me, J.J. from Good Times, and Judy Tenuta (comedic master of the half-grunt/half-screech brand of humor). These brilliant legal scholars descended on the meat of the case like piranha on a drowning pig. I'm not sure, but at some point I swear I heard Jimmie Walker slip in a "Dynomite" a la 1974. Good to see his career has progressed over the last 34 years!

Of this trifecta of fools the sharpest one seemed to be "Mini-me," who actually asked relevant questions, took notes, and appeared to be lucid during the entire case. Not anything like he looked in the "Surreal Life" drunkenly urinating in a corner by himself.

I hope that if I ever get in trouble they will settle my case in Hollywood, where anyone is guaranteed whatever justice the Nielson ratings approve.

Loser

I always knew most of today's crop of rappers were stupid, but I never knew how stupid. Recently Akon was discovered to have embellished his criminal record in order to gain "street credibility" from hip hop fans. Fabricating crimes? What a colossal puss. It's no wonder more and more young people are throwing their lives down the crapper, looking up to these rejects.

I read a newspaper article last week that summed it up nicely. It dealt with a mother and father getting arrested for fighting. They were arguing over which gang their two-year-old son was going to get into. That's right! Fighting over whether their son would be a Crip or MS-13 gang member. What a wonderful choice. I can hardly wait to find out how the child decides which way he'll throw his life away.

Pope Tour

Well once again a pope decided to tour the United States. It must be fun tooling around the country in that bubble-mobile and hobnobbing with the likes of Cheney and Bush. Why is religion off the table when it comes to criticism or humor? Religious people have no problem criticizing others, or persecuting those that believe differently.

The visit ushered the Pope's new book entitled: How to cover up a pedophile scandal, for dummies. In it he covers a variety of topics. His message to America is as follows:

1) Please forgive us for all the homosexual pedophilia. We've sent all those priests away to third world countries where very little gets media coverage. So bring your kids back to the church.

2) A more current list of sins has been released. Now you can hate yourself for not only birth control and gluttony, but pollution (including littering), environmental apathy, social injustice, causing poverty, and genetic modification. Remember, you are a dirty little worthless piece of flesh without blessing from our lord, the Flying Spaghetti Monster... I mean God.

3) Always vote against any form of scientific research. Those pesky scientists keep doing things like curing disease and making life amenable. God doesn't want that. Your life here on earth should be as miserable as possible to prepare you for the afterlife. So don't rush to the doctor when you get ass cancer. Remember, all is as it should be.

4) Global warming is now a sin, along with environmental apathy. The Pontifical Academy of Science (from which not one research breakthrough has ever come) has skillfully covered the subject. They have decided these problems can be corrected by intense self deprecation and monetary contributions to the church. Kind of like green points, but we like to call them Pontif points.

5) Once again, please refrain from using birth control. Our all powerful master hasn't found a way to best Glaxco-Smith-Klein yet, and it angers him! Besides, we need legions of tithing do-gooders to spread our dogma to as many as possible. We're even considering taking the approach of the Mormon Church and going door to door.

You can order the new book on Amazon for $39.99, but that doesn't count as your weekly church contribution. They use Paypal and ship to your door for an extra fee. As always, thank you and see you on Sunday.