Let me tell you the story…

I have beagle.. he is about a 11 months old. He is the nicest dog I have ever seen. Anyone that comes by.. he follows them around and even tries to leave with them. He is a people person.

My next door neighbor has 2 dogs that like to dig. They dig under my fence to allow Jake to come over and play. Well.. the have a cattle style gate that allows Jake out to the front yard. He usually says in the yard unless this older lady that walks the neighborhood walks by the house and he will go on a stroll with her.

I let him out back today while working on the website.. about 20 mins go by and I hear a yelp.. I chuckle because that means he hit the electric fence trying to get out.. I open up the back door to see and he is standing there head drooped. He hobbles in and I turn on the light. He is covered in blood. He has about 5-6 wounds and my first instinct is dog fight. He is limping really bad and after close inspection the wounds look less like punctures.

I jump in the car and head to the vet up the road. After knocking him out we get to shaving around the wounds. Doc looks up and says “Yep.. Jake saw the business end of a shotgun.”

Instantly I am pissed. Why? Because I know EXACTLY who did it. When I had Boomer, my mom’s dog, here they would ALWAYS get out. I saw a older guy, about 60, that lived around the corner. He told me that they are “running the neighborhood” and I needed to keep them in the yard. He said “I peppered them to try to get them to come home but they ran off.”

I told that M’Fing bastard that if he ever shot at my dogs again.. we were gonna have issues.

rent a car bulgariaThe doctor removed 4 pellets from Jake.. one in the top of the head and 3 from his legs and butt. Yes.. I said butt. This means this jackass fired one shot to hit him in the head (and through one ear by the way) and then shot AGAIN as he was running AWAY.

Keep in mind from the picture.. Jake is a BEAGLE. Not a Rott, or a Pitt.. A BEAGLE.

I went to the guys house. Drove up to the front door.. (yes.. all the way up in the yard to the front door **NOTE: I was pissed**) and knocked. He came to the door and the conversation went like this…

“You seen my beagle today?????”

“ummm.. er… noo.. why”

“Well.. someone decided to shoot him with a shotgun.. more than once, as he was running away. He is at the vet right now getting looked at for multiple wounds. A seeing as how you are the only self-confessed asshole I know around here.. I thought I would pay you a visit.”

“well… er.. It wasn’t me.. that is bad”

“You think it is bad? Let my dog have one more injury.. one more scrape.. Hell.. he could get beat up by another dog.. and I will be paying you a visit. I told you once that if you ever shot my dog again we would have a conversation. The only thing keeping me from beating your old ass right now is I like my job. I have the right mind to tie your ass to this porch and pepper the shit outta you with my own shotgun. This shit happens again.. and I might start returning your pellets the easy way. Remember that, C#$% S#c$er!”

I jumped in my car and went back to the Vet.

In hindsight what I did wasn’t the best of ideas.. but I was pissed and that’s my best friend. You don’t $#(% with friendship where I am from.

Jake is home with me now.. he is limping still.. and groggy from the drugs.. He finally ate and is sleeping at my feet by the heater.. so all is well.

If I am gone for 3-6.. you know why
Pictures are attached below

Not gonna lie. I am bad. If it was on easy mode, I could do it.. lets say.. easily. Push it up to medium and add that 4th button and my mind and fingers didn’t move that fast.

My other nephew Mike, (Who didn’t own the PS3) was able to play the Metallica song “One” on expert right out of the gate. The speed that those little button-thingies flew across the screen and his ability to keep up amazed me a little. I had no problem pressing the buttons but having to strum the bridge and press them at the same time was what kicked my ass.

He told me to check YouTube when I got home as there were some crazy videos of folks playing it.. He was right. Check this nutty shit out.

Well.. I couldn’t think of anything to write about today so I decided to try to arrange some the crap I have laying around the new house (I say new, I have lived here since June!).

So I am digging through the treasure trove of boxes from Mom’s garage and I found a gold mine! My 5th and 6th grade yearbooks! Reading back over want people wrote was hilarious but the moment was fleeting. One can only read so many “TTL! BFF!” and “Stay Cool this Summer!” or “You are cute and sweet!”

I did find a picture that brought back some memories! My first love! My first Kiss! My first pair of… um… roller skates for couple-skate! I don’t know what happened to her, but if you know, please let me know! You will always hold special place in your heart for your first love! You can tell that I REALLY loved her from the heart drawn around her picture. Back then that meant practically married (I hope I don’t have to pay back alimony)! We “went steady” for about 2 years off and on and her yearbook signing stated “I love you, come hang out this summer and going swimming sometime (anytime!)”. Ahhh.. young love. ::::tear::::

As I dug further through the boxes I found another picture from my youth. I did a stint as a Electronics Liquidator. I would bid on equipment from companies upgrading or going under and then sell off the parts for more money. My buddy Frank and I stumbledupon a once in a lifetime deal where we had already had buyers for the stuff before making a bid on it and we were going to make a $28,900 profit. So what does a 21 year old do with the $14,000? Buys a boat of course! It was a well worth it. Not gonna lie. This is a pic of me (in the Adidas hat), my unbelievably drunk friend, and um.. er.. um.. Damn it. I can’t remember her name. I was drunk a lot that summer. I can describe the tattoo she had in a NSFW spot though so that makes it OK!

No.. this is not the Partridge Family. It is mine! I am that sexy 3 foot beast of manliness on the left. And no, my oldest brother was NOT in Warrant. We look so happy there. It is amazing we are all still alive. My sister next to me and my brother on the far right are actually my step-siblings. I don’t see them that way but they are. My mother married my step dad when I was 3 so they are all I have ever known. Looking at this picture makes me think about something my mother said to my late stepfather once. They made a deal when they got married that they would each discipline their own children. He was very strict and my mom is very laid back. After we had all grown up they were sitting on the back porch talking. She calmly looked at him and said, “You know, You raised your kids strict, and me laid back but you know what?” “What’s that,” he replied. “They are all equally fucked up.” Love you too mom!

Well there you have it. My day of treasure hunting. And the thing is I never did get the crap put up. Oh well, there is always tomorrow.

Now read down the article and notice the quotes from the witnesses and neighbors. I will copy the meat and potatos for you.

“The boy didn’t have no gun, he had a brush on him,” said Andre Wildman, a neighbor.

Andre gives us a well thought out, grammar-filled account of what went down. Thank you Andre.

Wayne Holder, said police should be required to see a weapon before opening fire on a suspect. “At least see a gun before you start to discharge it,” Holder said. “Police don’t even have to see it, if they think you got one, you’re going to get shot.”

Wayne Holder gives us another key point. My guess is that Wayne doesn’t quite understand how guns work. If you have one pointed at you and you hear a bang, about .3 seconds after you hear it, you are going to feel a sharp pain like that of a truck hitting you going 60 miles/hour.

I don’t fault the cops here at all. Lets recap what we do know.

• Cops get 911 call (people in need and danger call 911).
• Cops hear man in background yelling, “I’ve got a Gun!”
• Cops show up to find man pacing in the house with his mother outside (who called 911).
• Man comes out of a window holding something black.
• Cops tell man to drop said item.
• Man raises hand towards police in a threatening motion.
• Cops shoot man A LOT.

Please tell me that if you were in the same situation you wouldn’t have shot. Anyone that says otherwise is a liar (liberal pansies not included). Cops aren’t in the business of getting shot. Waiting for this guy to shoot first, if he had a gun, could have gotten a police offer, or worse, an innocent bystander hurt or killed. That is unacceptable. He was giving a lawful order to drop that he had and chose to raise his hand. This guy wanted to die. Suicide by police. I am sorry for the pain his family is having to go through with the loss but I will not shed a tear for this jerk.

Today I was driving home from work. Leroy and I were driving our normal Miss Daisy pace. Being the conservative, liberal-hating, country-livin’ Republican that I am, I was, of course, eating something fried as I flew down the highway going 80+ while cleaning my handgun and singing along with “Sweet Home Alabama.” As I was belting out the last verse I looked in the ol’ rear view mirror and noticed some red and blue lights following me. Damn it! I was busted! The Man was on my tail and I was getting pulled over.

Now the rub. The fine State of Oklahoma allows us law abiding citizens to apply for and receive permits to carry concealed handguns. I, of course, have one of these. It is legal for me to carry my pistol concealed as long as I don’t carry into any of the restricted places (such as Federal/State buildings, schools, etc). Leroy is NOT one of those restricted areas so I am A OK at this point.

As the smokey approaches the car I have my hands at 10 and 2 and the window is rolled down. He gets to the window and asks for my license and insurance. I politely tell him that I will be reaching into my center console for my insurance and into my pocket for my wallet (It is always a good idea to let a police officer know ahead of time before you go diving into your pockets). I retrieve both items as well as my CCW (Carry Concealed Weapon) license. I am required by Oklahoma law to give him my CCW as well as inform him that I am, in fact, armed.

As I hand over my license, insurance, and CCW I say in a calm and steady voice, “Sir, I would like to inform you that I possess a concealed carry permit and that I have my firearm with me.” At least, that is what I think I said. From his next reaction I must have said, “Sir, You are retarded. You remind me of shit. By the way, your mother is a Vietnamese prostitute.”

He took about 3 steps back and placed his hand on his gun. He did not draw but that in itself was uncalled for. He asked me where my weapon was and I replied, “About 4 o’clock under my shirt.” He then asked me to place my hands out the window and step out of the car. I asked what the problem was and he told me to “just do it!” I complied and he opened the door and I stepped out. He asked me to move around to the other side of the car out of the danger of traffic (the only intelligent thing he has said so far aside from I need your license and insurance).

The next chain of events really confused me. I honestly didn’t know how to respond at first. This officer had the nerve to ask for my weapon. Excuse me? You want to take my weapon that I am licensed to carry? Am I under arrest? Have you even told me why you have stopped me (I knew why but that is beside the point)? We can get into the whole “officer safety” debate but I will stop you there and get to my point. The amount of hoops one has to jump through to receive this permit is borderline ridiculous. I have to take an 8 hour class, that cost me $60, on the law and firearm safety. I then get a certificate that I take to my local sheriff’s office. I give the sheriff $25 to fingerprint me. They then take a 10 page application from me as well as $100 money order. After they do an initial background check they sent the results and the fingerprints to the OSBI (Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation). They in turn send my prints to the FBI for a background check as well as conduct their own. After all this and 90+ days of waiting I am issued my license. 3 background checks and this guy wants my gun?

We haven’t even reached the worst part yet. His next statement almost made me pee a little. Not from fear, but from laughter. Officer Fife asked me to HAND him my loaded firearm. And here is where the title of this post fits in. DO I HAVE MORON TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD?

“Sir,” I replied, “With all due respect, you have no reason to disarm me. Second, I am not about to reach under my shirt to retrieve my loaded sidearm standing here on the highway. With my luck, one of your fellow troopers will drive by to offer assistance, see me produce a gun, and proceed to shoot my ass. If you would like my firearm I request that you place me in cuffs and get it yourself because what you suggested ain’t happening.”

The look of confusion and bewilderment on his face was priceless. I would give money for a picture so that I could post it for all of you to see.

Officer Fife finally broke the silence after about 15 seconds. “Ummmm, Ok. You stay right there for me.”

He took my information back to his car where I guess he ran my license and my tag. About 2 minutes later he returns and hands me my stuff. “Thank you sir, You have a nice day and slow down.”

WHAT?!? All that and you don’t even give me a ticket? Hell, where is my warning. I almost felt cheated. It took this moron 15 minutes to get me out of my car and almost shot and he doesn’t even cite me. I didn’t feel very protected or served!

Troy Williamson of the Minnesota Vikings was fined one game’s salary. Good! He was doing drugs, right? Surely he was in cahoots with Michael Vick and fighting dogs! He must have had another Viking’s Boat Tour with hookers and all, correct?

Nope! He missed their game versus the San Diego Chargers to attend his Grandmother’s funeral! A Funeral for Christ’s sake! And not a 3rd cousin twice removed. The man’s Grandmother! Williamson was too busy making travel arrangements for his family and burying his grandmother to come the game. It isn’t even as if he just didn’t show. He TOLD them he was going to miss the game. This, my friends, is a PR nightmare for the Vikings. My 12 year old niece fresh from recess could do a better job making decisions for the Vikings than the moron who allowed this one to happen.

Williamson makes about 450K a year so this fine was a measly $25,588. WOW! That is close to my base salary a YEAR. This almost makes me glad my grandparents have all moved on to better places so that Vikings don’t try to garnish my wages! The Vikings coach had the nerve to comment on this and say something along the lines of “we are a business.” Hey Brad Childress, you’re an idiot. About 95% of “companies” in America offer their employees bereavement time off (I have included a link the definition for your dumb ass). Way to stick your stupid foot in your mouth and make yourself look even more heartless. You and your PR rep should have mulled over that response a little while longer.

Sad thing is.. I was becoming a Vikings fan since Adrian Peterson was drafted by these fine examples of humanity. AD… Pray for free agency.. SOON! Then run your ass outta town!

Hide your grandparents folks, the Vikings are coming!

Here’s the breakdown. You see, I recently moved out to the sticks. A small town in Oklahoma that is about 30 miles from the next small town. Now my small town doesn’t happen to have a Walmart. In the city, I could just run on down a mile away to the nearest Walmart and purchase my goods. Now I have to use 1/2 a tank of gas and drive to a different area code to get dog food.

Boomer and Jake are picky little bitches. They will only eat a certain kind of food. Now it isn’t expensive stuff but they don’t sell it anywhere in Eufaula. Sooooooo, I have to drive 30 miles to Walmart in McAlester.

I jump in the car a couple of days ago, on my day off I might add, to “swing by” Walmart. I get there and enter the large, spacious treasure trove of consumer goodness. But alas, it is not goodness! It is the Devil’s work pulling me in. 2 hours later

I leave Walmart after spending $282.34! I got good deals. There were bargains. What the hell do I have to be whining about?

Well.. I start on my return journey to the casa. I get home about 30 minutes later and begin to unload my car. Bag after bag of my recent tidbit purchases. But wait! What have I done??!?!?

I FORGOT THE GOD DAMN DOG FOOD.

It was the Devil! I swear! He made me do it! Damn you Walmart, damn you straight to hell!

So it is about dinner time and I decided to take a trip on over to Wendy’s. You see, being from Oklahoma City, I had the great pleasure of having access to the best hamburger EVER. The #1 with extra cheese from Johnnie’s Charcoal Broiler! It is seriously heaven on a bun. Seeing as how there isn’t one out here in the sticks I had to find a surrogate. The Baconator from Wendy’s comes close!

I pull up to the drive through and order my dinner of 8 bacon strips on top of a 1/2 pound of beef and LOTS of melted cheese, large fries, and a soda. I could feel my arteries cringe and my ass grow just from ordering it. A quiet, high pitched voice comes from the speaker and reads back my order. Since it was correct I replied with a polite, “Yes’ Ma’am! Thank you!” and drive up to the next window.

Here is why I am going to hell…. When I get to the window I hear the voice again repeat the price to me. However, when I look up to hand over the cash I burst out in laughter. I mean.. deep, deep belly laugh for the “Ma’am” standing before me is actually a dude. This had to be a guy. His name tag read “Pat” and he,.. she,.. um.. it had a stache’ the size of Sam Elliot’s in Tombstone.

Why the laughter you ask? Well.. it’s name was Pat so that in itself was worth a laugh. But Pat’s name tag was sitting on top of the biggest pair of tits I have ever seen. Pat was not fat so it wasn’t man boobs. Pat was a skinning white kid with a huge mustache and even bigger tits. I couldn’t help myself. I burst out in the loudest laugh I have had in a long while. I honestly think I pee’d a little. I felt bad as I handed over my money. I really did but I could not help myself nor could I make myself stop laughing.

Pat was either the luckiest guy alive (come on, he has his own tits to play with!) or the ugliest woman I have ever seen.

Moral of the story: Beware of the drive through speaker! You never know WHO the hell you’re talking to!

Breast Cancer is a killer and I for one don’t want to lose any of my loved ones. That is why I have Gone Pink for October. So with that, please check out a few of these sites, learn, and donate!

BreastCancer.org - Your Lifeline to the Best Medical Information About Breast Cancer.
Susan G Komen Foundation - World’s largest and most progressive grassroots network of breast cancer survivors and activists.
Breast Cancer Home Page - National Cancer Institute

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