Fact: The police cannot find you if you have handy camouflage in our backpack.
Fact: You should be a little nicer.
Fact: that second shot was a bad idea.
Fact: somewhere, someone would appreciate this ridiculousness.
Fact: searchlights are at the wrong angle to illuminate the right sorts of canal banks when you’re under the tamarisk.
Fact: I should be a better person.
Fact: Some day I may be.
Fact: I hate police.
fact: Lazy, fat, fucking pieces of crew cutted shit.
Fact: Used to be one.
Fact: Got home with minor bruising covered in mud.
Fact: The moon was beautiful.
But you know this.
damn. and all that for going to the WalMarts for some Cool Ranch Doritos and a tin of snuff…
Comment by daisyfae — June 29, 2009 @ 6:13 pm |
This was a collection of gained experiences over a few years. And a general distaste for lawn forcement.
Comment by Casey — June 29, 2009 @ 6:51 pm |
although i’ve met a few exceptions, many local police types seem to get overly jaded/crunchy with experience – maybe with good reason – and hop the huge fucking powertrip. state cops less so… again, hate to stereotype, but i’m with you. to the point of yelling ‘i smell bacon!’ at the sight of a local attempting a speed trap…
Comment by daisyfae — June 30, 2009 @ 5:15 pm |
i think it’s just the ego of anyone thinking they know better than I do what I should be doing. I have always had problems with any type of authority, but I especially hate incompetent authority.
Comment by Casey — July 1, 2009 @ 8:47 am |
do assholes become cops or does being a cop turn people into assholes?
Comment by clairemontgomerymd — July 5, 2009 @ 8:28 am |