gay marriage

Crime Doesn’t Pay But It Sure Makes Me Laugh

ME Overly simple thoughts , , , , ,

I live in a fairly small town. That means other than the occasional single-wide trailer blowing up from meth heads who failed even the most basic of chemistry classes, there isn’t much to report here in terms of crime. Let’s face it, there’s a reason Barney Fife carried that one bullet in a hip pouch.

In order to understand our crime problems, you have to first understand that THIS SHIT made the front page of the paper. Front page news, folks. Of a paper that only gets delivered once a week. And it comes in the mail since hiring delivery drivers isn’t in the budget.

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Thank the lord they cleared up the misunderstanding. For a minute there I thought Lori was into all kinds of animals, but it’s good to know she’s now working on limiting herself to dogs.

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Yes folks, this man does love to grill. I’m not sure how that made the news, but if you don’t plan to report on things like your own governor removing the fake Confederate flag from the courthouse or the SCOTUS decision concerning gay marriage, then this shit becomes really, really important. Please also note that the intrepid reporter uncovered even more dirt on this man: not only does he like to grill, he coaches Little League.

But here’s where the crime report gets really seedy. Please bear in mind that these were actual 911 calls, and that our brothers in blue put themselves out there to respond.

Shit just got real, y'all. That shoe was damaged in the scuffle.
Shit just got real, y’all. That shoe was damaged in the scuffle.
SIX PILLS, PEOPLE! There were SIX of them bad boys! They later turned out to be Excedrin, but so what?
SIX PILLS, PEOPLE! There were SIX of them bad boys! They later turned out to be Excedrin, but so what?
NOOOOOO! Not the phone cord! I mean, "Hands up, not my phone cord! Hands up, not my phone cord!"
NOOOOOO! Not the phone cord! I mean, “Hands up, not my phone cord! Hands up, not my phone cord!”
Dammit, if I had a dollar for every time somebody stole a $50 mower, I could buy... a $50 mower. You throw in the fact that the officers who responded then went on to find a stolen bicycle on the scene, and it's just a crime wave, I tell you what.
Dammit, if I had a dollar for every time somebody stole a $50 mower, I could buy… a $50 mower. You throw in the fact that the officers who responded then went on to find a stolen bicycle on the scene, and it’s just a crime wave, I tell you what.

For the rest of the country who’s veritably wallowing in news like the riots in Tunisia and the fact that Putin wasn’t invited to the G8 summit for being an asshole, I give you what it’s really like to live in a town with its head shoved in the sand. Or up its ass. Take your pick.

Here’s What I Really Need This Thanksgiving

ME Overly simple thoughts , , , ,

See? You thought this was going to be a thought-provoking, touching post about the true meaning of life. Sheesh, it’s like you don’t even know me. No, I really just need that hat to make my Thanksgiving really sparkle.

Seriously, though, I need that hat. Make it happen. And work on world peace while you’re at it. Oh, and fixing the economy so we aren’t in the number two spot for industrialized nations with the most children living in poverty. That too. Oh, and stop the overbreeding of stray animals and the killing of wolves somewhere up north, and the prosecution of minor drug offenders in our nation’s already overcrowded penal system (that was penal, not penile). And could we let gay people finally get married so they can argue over whose in-law’s they have to celebrate with, just like the rest of us? Thank you. All of that would make my already thankful heart just melt from the sheer weight of gratitude thrust upon it.

Now get me my hat. And have a great Thanksgiving.