After two weeks of brain-melting fury, yours truly has successfully completed Recon I. Thanks for your patience....so, what was the point, you ask? Believe me when I saw this is the simplified, watered down answer, but I can now mathematically calculate the pre-impact velocity of two vehicles based on their entry/exit angles into/out of a collision. We were given a couple real life case studies to work on and were provided with some basic info that we'd otherwise have to figure out for ourselves in the real world (i.e. drag factor, weights of both axles and, in turn, each wheel, skid marks, etc).
We then had to figure out which cars made which marks and using transparency cut-outs of each vehicle, place them at maximum engagement (where the most damage is done), then subsequently figure out the next logical place for each vehicle to be on the road (this is all done to scale, by the way, on an 8 1/2" X 11" piece of paper). Whatever the next logical place is, you draw a line from that vehicle's center of mass at it's original position to it's new position. Then, you figure out the angle change from one to the other. And so and so forth.
Based on, say, V-2's exit and entry angle, I can calculate it's pre-impact velocity (speed) and taking that, it's a trigonometry wonderland to figure out the rest. Don't get me started on what to do if either vehicle rotates....whole other kettle of fish...which I can do, by the by, but won't bore you with the intricacies therein. My head still spins a bit just thinking about it.
At any rate, my patient friends, I will do my best to once again brighten your civilian lives with tales of awe and wonder from the seat of a Harley. Thanks again for being giving me some time off. I tried ever so hard to refrain from explaining the difference between Potential Energy and Kinetic Energy and how even though they're different, they should still sum up to equal the same number of ftlbs. You're welcome....
Oh yeah...a postscript...all the math bullshit I completed in the last two weeks can all be calculated damn near instantaneously by a computer program we were provided at the end of the course. Sure, we still have to come up with all the variables to insert into the equations...but the actual calculation bit? Total waste as it turns out. Stupid technology.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sines and Arc Tangents, and Delta-Vee's...Oh My!!!!
Things are gonna be slow around the blog for the next couple weeks, folks. I'm taking an 80 hour Traffic Accident Reconstruction class (TAR 1 for short). Think of it this way....your average college course meets for 3 hours a week over a ten week period for a total amount of 30 total hours of instruction. I'm getting nearly 3 times that in two weeks. This will take my accident investigation training up to 240 hours of total training! Yikes, now the powers-that-be will probably expect me to know what the hell I'm talking about. The training is very math-heavy...lots of trig and some physics thrown in for kicks, so I'll probably be too wiped to blog. Then again, you never can tell...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
I just may have saved a life...
What follows is not an effort to "toot my own horn"...this is just the way I felt today.
As I may or may not have mentioned by now, I love my job. That translates to "I write a shitload of tickets". Today was no different. I was on par to beat my personal best (17 in a day). I was aiming for 20. I had two hours and about five cites to go when the following happened...and you'll forgive me cuz I spent about four hours from start to finish on this little event and had to document it all, so this may very well read like my report. Sorry.
I was W/B on, shall we say ABC St., about to get on the freeway headed N/B. Off to my left, I see an older SUV in the far left lane. The intersection with ABC St. doesn't allow traffic in the far left lane to turn because that would take them the wrong way onto the freeway. Well, foreshadowing aside, that is precisely what the driver of the SUV did. She turned left. Onto the freeway. Going the wrong way. It was two in the afternoon.
I did the only thing I could do....and let's be specific here...God was watching out for yours truly. I was already committed to going N/B on the freeway. I credit God here because there was no one behind me which allowed me to activate my lites and siren, turn around, blow the intersection and catch up to the driver. The driver was going S/B on the N/B offramp to the freeway. There were two cars on the offramp, but they were already stopped for the light and there were no additional vehicles exiting the freeway. Again, God. Since there was no traffic, I felt it was safe for me to also enter the offramp S/B. The driver apparently realized that all the traffic on the freeway was either going the wrong direction, or she was. Amazingly enough, she stopped, then made a U-turn.
If she had kept going, I would not have pursued her. Policy is very clear about this kind of thing. All that shit you see on the TV about cop shows, even reality clip shows, where the cops chase the bad guy the wrong way on the freeway? Those cops are morons who get caught up in the adrenaline and the fact that they're gonna be on TV. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for chasing the bad guys and driving fast, especially with lights and sirens. And on a motor to boot? Please. I dig on the adrenaline, too. Let me be clear, though. I have one goal throughout each and every day when I'm at work. Come home and hug the Wife and my daughter. Everyone else means exactly nothing. I understand I have a dangerous job and we all put our lives on the line, but that line shifts based on the totality of the circumstances, folks. Sorry to burst your bubble.
At any rate, back to the issue at hand. Eventually, the driver yields and I contact her. I basically ask her what in the hell was she thinking. Her reply is not important. The important part is what I smelled. Ah, the familiar odor of an alcoholic beverage. *Tip* Cops who say they smelled alcohol couldn't be more wrong. Alcohol in and of itself has no smell. The alcoholic beverage, however, does. Class dismissed.
Right about the time I smelled her particular odor, I noticed the two cute twin girls in the rear seat. Turns out, they just turned five two days ago. The driver is their nanny. Their nanny is fucking hammered. Long story short, I conduct the DUI investigation and she gets arrested for Deuce and two felony counts of child endangerment. Mom came and picked up the twins and, obviously, will be firing the nanny. The legal limit in CA is .08. This woman tripled that score.
A minor aside...a city to the south of the Town had a bad run of luck a few weeks ago involving collisions. A ten year old boy was run over by a small commuter bus. Truly tragic and not something most of you need to see. About two or three days later, I man hit a 13 year old girl in the crosswalk on her bike. He had one or two kids in his vehicle. He was drunk. The 13 year old girl, to the best of my knowledge, wasn't killed, but she was seriously injured. The collision occurred in the middle of the day. These things were prevalent in my mind during this incident.
Again, I love my job. Tickets make me happy. This one made me feel like a real life superhero. I got lots of "great hook"s and "nice pop"s from my peers and supervisors. We're a tight knit bunch, so being recognized by your peers that you respect so much means a lot to me. When you add in them telling you that you probably saved a life today, well, I almost don't have the words for it. All of that takes a back seat, however, to seeing two things. One, the look on the face of the twins' mom. She felt terror, anguish, relief and happiness all in the span of about three seconds. Can you imagine trusting someone with your children, your Children for God sakes, and discovering that someone could very well have been responsible for their death? God willing, we'll never have to feel that way. This woman did. I was able to help her with that. Secondly, seeing my own daughter when I came home and hugged the bejeezus outta her. And she was all smiles and laughter. The salve that soothes my wounds.
One little caveat...did I forget to mention the strong arm robbery that occurred about a minute after I stopped this drunk bitch? Oh I didn't? Yeah...it was an interesting day in our little burg. No rest for the weary.
And finally...the true tragedy at the end of the day...I only got 17 cites. *sigh* There's always tomorrow. Hehe
As I may or may not have mentioned by now, I love my job. That translates to "I write a shitload of tickets". Today was no different. I was on par to beat my personal best (17 in a day). I was aiming for 20. I had two hours and about five cites to go when the following happened...and you'll forgive me cuz I spent about four hours from start to finish on this little event and had to document it all, so this may very well read like my report. Sorry.
I was W/B on, shall we say ABC St., about to get on the freeway headed N/B. Off to my left, I see an older SUV in the far left lane. The intersection with ABC St. doesn't allow traffic in the far left lane to turn because that would take them the wrong way onto the freeway. Well, foreshadowing aside, that is precisely what the driver of the SUV did. She turned left. Onto the freeway. Going the wrong way. It was two in the afternoon.
I did the only thing I could do....and let's be specific here...God was watching out for yours truly. I was already committed to going N/B on the freeway. I credit God here because there was no one behind me which allowed me to activate my lites and siren, turn around, blow the intersection and catch up to the driver. The driver was going S/B on the N/B offramp to the freeway. There were two cars on the offramp, but they were already stopped for the light and there were no additional vehicles exiting the freeway. Again, God. Since there was no traffic, I felt it was safe for me to also enter the offramp S/B. The driver apparently realized that all the traffic on the freeway was either going the wrong direction, or she was. Amazingly enough, she stopped, then made a U-turn.
If she had kept going, I would not have pursued her. Policy is very clear about this kind of thing. All that shit you see on the TV about cop shows, even reality clip shows, where the cops chase the bad guy the wrong way on the freeway? Those cops are morons who get caught up in the adrenaline and the fact that they're gonna be on TV. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for chasing the bad guys and driving fast, especially with lights and sirens. And on a motor to boot? Please. I dig on the adrenaline, too. Let me be clear, though. I have one goal throughout each and every day when I'm at work. Come home and hug the Wife and my daughter. Everyone else means exactly nothing. I understand I have a dangerous job and we all put our lives on the line, but that line shifts based on the totality of the circumstances, folks. Sorry to burst your bubble.
At any rate, back to the issue at hand. Eventually, the driver yields and I contact her. I basically ask her what in the hell was she thinking. Her reply is not important. The important part is what I smelled. Ah, the familiar odor of an alcoholic beverage. *Tip* Cops who say they smelled alcohol couldn't be more wrong. Alcohol in and of itself has no smell. The alcoholic beverage, however, does. Class dismissed.
Right about the time I smelled her particular odor, I noticed the two cute twin girls in the rear seat. Turns out, they just turned five two days ago. The driver is their nanny. Their nanny is fucking hammered. Long story short, I conduct the DUI investigation and she gets arrested for Deuce and two felony counts of child endangerment. Mom came and picked up the twins and, obviously, will be firing the nanny. The legal limit in CA is .08. This woman tripled that score.
A minor aside...a city to the south of the Town had a bad run of luck a few weeks ago involving collisions. A ten year old boy was run over by a small commuter bus. Truly tragic and not something most of you need to see. About two or three days later, I man hit a 13 year old girl in the crosswalk on her bike. He had one or two kids in his vehicle. He was drunk. The 13 year old girl, to the best of my knowledge, wasn't killed, but she was seriously injured. The collision occurred in the middle of the day. These things were prevalent in my mind during this incident.
Again, I love my job. Tickets make me happy. This one made me feel like a real life superhero. I got lots of "great hook"s and "nice pop"s from my peers and supervisors. We're a tight knit bunch, so being recognized by your peers that you respect so much means a lot to me. When you add in them telling you that you probably saved a life today, well, I almost don't have the words for it. All of that takes a back seat, however, to seeing two things. One, the look on the face of the twins' mom. She felt terror, anguish, relief and happiness all in the span of about three seconds. Can you imagine trusting someone with your children, your Children for God sakes, and discovering that someone could very well have been responsible for their death? God willing, we'll never have to feel that way. This woman did. I was able to help her with that. Secondly, seeing my own daughter when I came home and hugged the bejeezus outta her. And she was all smiles and laughter. The salve that soothes my wounds.
One little caveat...did I forget to mention the strong arm robbery that occurred about a minute after I stopped this drunk bitch? Oh I didn't? Yeah...it was an interesting day in our little burg. No rest for the weary.
And finally...the true tragedy at the end of the day...I only got 17 cites. *sigh* There's always tomorrow. Hehe
Monday, April 7, 2008
#*&@ Thanks, Mom
At the beginning of this little experiment, my loving Mom mentioned that I would have an experience and think to myself, "That is so bloggable." As per previous posts, we are well acquainted with how stupid I think the word "blog" is. Today, to my shame, I said out loud and with a certain verve, "Bloggable." That was it. There was no one else in the car. So. Fucking. Sad.
At any rate, please to enjoy (credit Joel McHale) the following experience...
I worked a little OT tonite, so I was in a fully marked patrol car;however, the motorcop never rests, so I'm always looking to write more cites. I was in the #1 right turn lane waiting to enter the freeway N/B (that's the left most turn lane for you non-traffic dorks). There was a pickup truck immediately to my right, also getting on the freeway. The lite cycles to green and we both go. The truck swings wide and begins to enter my lane. The lane in which I was currently in. As in already there. As in he would hit me if I wasn't paying attention. I quickly hit the brakes and the horn, which is connected to the siren, and hit my lites.
The truck pulls over on the on-ramp. The conversation goes something like this...
Me: Evening. Do you know why I stopped you?
Idiot: Yeah. I swung a little wide in my turn.
Me: A little wide? You almost hit me.
Idiot: Sorry about that.
Me: No problem...license, registration, and insurance, please.
***INTERMISSION WHILST THE CITE IS WRITTEN***
I return with his citation....
Me: Ok, sir, I just need your signature on the highlighted yellow portion on the bottom.
Idiot (incredulously): You're giving me a ticket.
Me (disbelievingly): Uh, yes, sir. You almost hit me.
Idiot (still incredulous): Well, I know, but don't you think a warning would be more appropriate.
Me: No. (now walking back to my car shaking my head)
At which point Idiot signs the ticket but internally curses the cruel Fates that have brought him to this experience. Now, I ask you, dear random Internet masses, what the fuck is wrong with this guy? How do you nearly hit a moving, fully marked police car and not expect to get a ticket? Are you retarded? How can you possibly think you wouldn't get a ticket for that?
I then return to my car, get in, close the door and say in a sing-song voice, "Bloggable." Oh, the depths I have reached. To be fair, or to pass the buck, I have heard the Wife utter the B-word a number of times, so I am claiming some kind of unfair adversity here. But, the fact remains I said it and, again, Mom was right. Shit, twice in one week and I admit it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. (That was just payback, cuz I know she hates it when I swear....Evil Little Monkey that I am.)
Off to sleep and recharge the batteries for more soul crushing on the morrow....
At any rate, please to enjoy (credit Joel McHale) the following experience...
I worked a little OT tonite, so I was in a fully marked patrol car;however, the motorcop never rests, so I'm always looking to write more cites. I was in the #1 right turn lane waiting to enter the freeway N/B (that's the left most turn lane for you non-traffic dorks). There was a pickup truck immediately to my right, also getting on the freeway. The lite cycles to green and we both go. The truck swings wide and begins to enter my lane. The lane in which I was currently in. As in already there. As in he would hit me if I wasn't paying attention. I quickly hit the brakes and the horn, which is connected to the siren, and hit my lites.
The truck pulls over on the on-ramp. The conversation goes something like this...
Me: Evening. Do you know why I stopped you?
Idiot: Yeah. I swung a little wide in my turn.
Me: A little wide? You almost hit me.
Idiot: Sorry about that.
Me: No problem...license, registration, and insurance, please.
***INTERMISSION WHILST THE CITE IS WRITTEN***
I return with his citation....
Me: Ok, sir, I just need your signature on the highlighted yellow portion on the bottom.
Idiot (incredulously): You're giving me a ticket.
Me (disbelievingly): Uh, yes, sir. You almost hit me.
Idiot (still incredulous): Well, I know, but don't you think a warning would be more appropriate.
Me: No. (now walking back to my car shaking my head)
At which point Idiot signs the ticket but internally curses the cruel Fates that have brought him to this experience. Now, I ask you, dear random Internet masses, what the fuck is wrong with this guy? How do you nearly hit a moving, fully marked police car and not expect to get a ticket? Are you retarded? How can you possibly think you wouldn't get a ticket for that?
I then return to my car, get in, close the door and say in a sing-song voice, "Bloggable." Oh, the depths I have reached. To be fair, or to pass the buck, I have heard the Wife utter the B-word a number of times, so I am claiming some kind of unfair adversity here. But, the fact remains I said it and, again, Mom was right. Shit, twice in one week and I admit it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. (That was just payback, cuz I know she hates it when I swear....Evil Little Monkey that I am.)
Off to sleep and recharge the batteries for more soul crushing on the morrow....
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Mon Raison D'etre (High School French, bitches!)
I never thought I'd want to be in the Traffic Unit. I never thought I'd want to spend my days writing tickets. Turns out, I freakin' love it. I mean like righteously love it. You know that ass that cuts you off on the freeway and didn't even have the courtesy to wave, let alone signal? I get to write that prick a ticket. Puts a smile on my face.
Here's another reason I love traffic. I practically get to be judge and jury on each violation. Sure, it's an infraction. No, typically no one goes to jail. But guess what, folks? It's the quickest, easiest, and cleanest way to exact justice. Allow me to explain...
Say I arrest some dipshit for beating his wife/girlfriend/transgenderfied cousin/whatever. The victim has obvious injuries (traumatic injuries for you purists out there). I interview everyone involved. I take pictures. I write a report. I transport dipshit to jail. The whole process takes about five hours, on a simple case. Guess what happens next? Dipshit's victim bails dipshit out of jail. The D.A. (district attorney for you neophytes) won't file the felony because the victim isn't the most cooperative of subjects. If I'm lucky, dipshit gets charged with misdemeanor domestic battery, does no jail time, and if Jupiter is in the seventh house, maybe gets probation. Maybe.
Not enough? Too hypothetical for you? Try this on for size....
I'm at work. In uniform. In a fucking police car. I'm stopped for a red light. Just sitting there minding my own business. All of a sudden...SLAM!!! I'm now halfway in the intersection and being pushed even further into it. I look in my rearview and see smoke coming from the tires of the vehicle behind me as the driver is standing on the accelerator. I am now standing on my brakes trying to avoid being pushed any further. I get on the air, advise I was just struck from behind and, oh....what's this? The driver throws it in reverse and is now attempting to flee. Uh....HELL NO! I flip a quick U, throw on the lites and siren and chase this motherfucker. Didn't last long as the driver drove over the sidewalk, into a parking lot, up a small landscaped hillside to a stop. I pull behind the car and get out. I am not happy.
I walk over to the car, hand on my gun, and I see a mid to late 50's female behind the wheel of the car. Huh?!? You guessed it...drunk bitch. Long story short, she goes to jail for deuce (DUI) and I go home and then the chiropractor for a few months. A few months later, a warrant comes out for her arrest. My partner and I go to the house and hook her. She had no fucking clue who I was. Oh, and guess what else...SHE WAS DRUNK!!! Unreal. Off to jail she goes. Both times she was in jail less than a day because her husband bailed her out. Case never went to trial. Know why? The D.A. and drunk bitch's bottom feeder (defense attorney) worked out a plea deal. Know what she got for being involved in a deuce crash? Basically, fuck all. No jail time, minimal fines, and probation. That's it, kids. She hit an on-duty police officer and didn't spend any significant time in jail. Nice, huh?
So, back to the point. I get personal and immediate satisfaction knowing that when I stop someone, the odds of them getting what they deserve are astronomically higher than if they commit a random misdemeanor, or even a felony. Twisted, but this is the criminal justice system, trusting citizens!
It gets better, though. Some of these fools actually fight the ticket! Silly rabbit, fines are for violators. I've literally been to court and testified hundreds of times. I've lost exactly twice and only because the court documentation on file was outdated. I don't have to rely on the D.A. or any other attorney for that matter. In court, I represent the state, present my case, and await what has come to be fairly inevitable. I get the satisfaction of knowing everything will be handled from start to finish with little or no plea deals and the defendant will end up paying for his/her actions.
At the end of the day, I love my job. Yeah, there are drawbacks to working in the Town and we'll get into those sometime soon, but overall, there are very few days I wake up and lament going to work. My job makes me happy.
I just wanted to offer up a brief explanation of why I love my job so much. To be honest, I've never really thought about it in this particular context before. Dear Lord, Mom was right. This IS a good idea. Damn...she'll probably read that bit, too. Great, now I have to hear about it. *sigh*.
Here's another reason I love traffic. I practically get to be judge and jury on each violation. Sure, it's an infraction. No, typically no one goes to jail. But guess what, folks? It's the quickest, easiest, and cleanest way to exact justice. Allow me to explain...
Say I arrest some dipshit for beating his wife/girlfriend/transgenderfied cousin/whatever. The victim has obvious injuries (traumatic injuries for you purists out there). I interview everyone involved. I take pictures. I write a report. I transport dipshit to jail. The whole process takes about five hours, on a simple case. Guess what happens next? Dipshit's victim bails dipshit out of jail. The D.A. (district attorney for you neophytes) won't file the felony because the victim isn't the most cooperative of subjects. If I'm lucky, dipshit gets charged with misdemeanor domestic battery, does no jail time, and if Jupiter is in the seventh house, maybe gets probation. Maybe.
Not enough? Too hypothetical for you? Try this on for size....
I'm at work. In uniform. In a fucking police car. I'm stopped for a red light. Just sitting there minding my own business. All of a sudden...SLAM!!! I'm now halfway in the intersection and being pushed even further into it. I look in my rearview and see smoke coming from the tires of the vehicle behind me as the driver is standing on the accelerator. I am now standing on my brakes trying to avoid being pushed any further. I get on the air, advise I was just struck from behind and, oh....what's this? The driver throws it in reverse and is now attempting to flee. Uh....HELL NO! I flip a quick U, throw on the lites and siren and chase this motherfucker. Didn't last long as the driver drove over the sidewalk, into a parking lot, up a small landscaped hillside to a stop. I pull behind the car and get out. I am not happy.
I walk over to the car, hand on my gun, and I see a mid to late 50's female behind the wheel of the car. Huh?!? You guessed it...drunk bitch. Long story short, she goes to jail for deuce (DUI) and I go home and then the chiropractor for a few months. A few months later, a warrant comes out for her arrest. My partner and I go to the house and hook her. She had no fucking clue who I was. Oh, and guess what else...SHE WAS DRUNK!!! Unreal. Off to jail she goes. Both times she was in jail less than a day because her husband bailed her out. Case never went to trial. Know why? The D.A. and drunk bitch's bottom feeder (defense attorney) worked out a plea deal. Know what she got for being involved in a deuce crash? Basically, fuck all. No jail time, minimal fines, and probation. That's it, kids. She hit an on-duty police officer and didn't spend any significant time in jail. Nice, huh?
So, back to the point. I get personal and immediate satisfaction knowing that when I stop someone, the odds of them getting what they deserve are astronomically higher than if they commit a random misdemeanor, or even a felony. Twisted, but this is the criminal justice system, trusting citizens!
It gets better, though. Some of these fools actually fight the ticket! Silly rabbit, fines are for violators. I've literally been to court and testified hundreds of times. I've lost exactly twice and only because the court documentation on file was outdated. I don't have to rely on the D.A. or any other attorney for that matter. In court, I represent the state, present my case, and await what has come to be fairly inevitable. I get the satisfaction of knowing everything will be handled from start to finish with little or no plea deals and the defendant will end up paying for his/her actions.
At the end of the day, I love my job. Yeah, there are drawbacks to working in the Town and we'll get into those sometime soon, but overall, there are very few days I wake up and lament going to work. My job makes me happy.
I just wanted to offer up a brief explanation of why I love my job so much. To be honest, I've never really thought about it in this particular context before. Dear Lord, Mom was right. This IS a good idea. Damn...she'll probably read that bit, too. Great, now I have to hear about it. *sigh*.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Damn you, 21st century!!!
Ok. I've taken a deep breath and am bravely stepping off the 20th century cliff and waiting to freefall into the next century.
So, here's the deal. I'm conflicted about this whole "blogging" thing. First of all, what in the fuck is a blog? Seriously. Gotta be one of the stupidest new words. Secondly, as the majority of my friends and family can attest, I suck at returning emails. How does that relate you ask? Consistency, friends, consistency. I make no promises to hourly, daily, weekly, monthly update my new nemesis; however, on the rare occasion in which I do, I can promise an uncensored look into the life of a motor cop.
I am not creating this sucker to regale all of you with the newest and coolest stuff my daughter does. The Wife takes care of all of that. No, this is more of a way to relieve some pent up frustration about my job. You all know what I do and where I work, but for the sake of not misrepresenting my Department, I will henceforth refer to the place I work simply as "the Town". I will most likely say some things that will inevitably be misinterpreted by the wrong set of eyes who may or may not look to screw me for excersing my 1st amendment rights. To those eyes, I simply say, "Suck it."
DISCLAIMER:
I work with and around some characters. You know who you are. Characters use colorful language. I, myself, am a character. (This is mostly a warning for you, Mom). There will be R-rated language involved with this blog. I'm a cop. We swear. Deal. 'Nuff said.
DISCLAIMER #2:
I get wordy. Not sure that is a word, but it should be. The Wife can attest to my verbosity. Now, I know that is a word. From time to time, things happen at work that piss me off. When I get pissed off, I tend to run off at the mouth. I type faster than I talk. Figure it out.
DISCLAIMER #3:
If, by some glorious twist of fate, you stumbled across this blog and you happen to be someone I stopped and cited, this is what I really wanted to say, "Holy shit, I can't believe you just (insert violation here). You suck at driving. Sign the fucking ticket and I'll see you in court...can you make it a Monday, though? That way I'll get paid overtime to screw you twice! MUAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" At which point, in a perfect world, fire would come out of the tailpipe of my Harley as I speed away to violate someone else's civil rights.
DISCLAIMER #4:
Disclaimer #3 is only partially true.
DISCLAIMER #5:
Disclaimer #4 is bullshit.
Ok...enough frivolity. I actually want to say a couple quick notes of thanks to three specific people who have inspired me to write this blog (still can't wrap my head around this word). #1 Mom & Dad...Mom has encouraged me for years to get my work thoughts on paper. Not sure this counts as paper, but close enough for gov't work. Dad actually did write the majority of his work details in a log/journal which I've always thought was cool. #2 LKE...I'll bet she didn't even know I read her blog. LKE, I love reading your shit. You are a gifted and talented writer and on more than one occasion, I have laughed out loud at your posts (the flower on the bra comes to mind). #3 The Wife...what don't you inspire me to do? I fucking hate jogging and you got me doing that. This I can do whilst drinking at the same time. Win/win. Seriously, Sweetheart, your vigilant updates have helped keep my family connected with our daughter. I can never thank you enough for that. You, too, are a gifted and talented writer. Your Dad is right...publishable. xoxo.
Well, that about does it for the inaugural post. Enjoy the ensuing hilarity.
I'm off to make friends and influence people....
So, here's the deal. I'm conflicted about this whole "blogging" thing. First of all, what in the fuck is a blog? Seriously. Gotta be one of the stupidest new words. Secondly, as the majority of my friends and family can attest, I suck at returning emails. How does that relate you ask? Consistency, friends, consistency. I make no promises to hourly, daily, weekly, monthly update my new nemesis; however, on the rare occasion in which I do, I can promise an uncensored look into the life of a motor cop.
I am not creating this sucker to regale all of you with the newest and coolest stuff my daughter does. The Wife takes care of all of that. No, this is more of a way to relieve some pent up frustration about my job. You all know what I do and where I work, but for the sake of not misrepresenting my Department, I will henceforth refer to the place I work simply as "the Town". I will most likely say some things that will inevitably be misinterpreted by the wrong set of eyes who may or may not look to screw me for excersing my 1st amendment rights. To those eyes, I simply say, "Suck it."
DISCLAIMER:
I work with and around some characters. You know who you are. Characters use colorful language. I, myself, am a character. (This is mostly a warning for you, Mom). There will be R-rated language involved with this blog. I'm a cop. We swear. Deal. 'Nuff said.
DISCLAIMER #2:
I get wordy. Not sure that is a word, but it should be. The Wife can attest to my verbosity. Now, I know that is a word. From time to time, things happen at work that piss me off. When I get pissed off, I tend to run off at the mouth. I type faster than I talk. Figure it out.
DISCLAIMER #3:
If, by some glorious twist of fate, you stumbled across this blog and you happen to be someone I stopped and cited, this is what I really wanted to say, "Holy shit, I can't believe you just (insert violation here). You suck at driving. Sign the fucking ticket and I'll see you in court...can you make it a Monday, though? That way I'll get paid overtime to screw you twice! MUAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" At which point, in a perfect world, fire would come out of the tailpipe of my Harley as I speed away to violate someone else's civil rights.
DISCLAIMER #4:
Disclaimer #3 is only partially true.
DISCLAIMER #5:
Disclaimer #4 is bullshit.
Ok...enough frivolity. I actually want to say a couple quick notes of thanks to three specific people who have inspired me to write this blog (still can't wrap my head around this word). #1 Mom & Dad...Mom has encouraged me for years to get my work thoughts on paper. Not sure this counts as paper, but close enough for gov't work. Dad actually did write the majority of his work details in a log/journal which I've always thought was cool. #2 LKE...I'll bet she didn't even know I read her blog. LKE, I love reading your shit. You are a gifted and talented writer and on more than one occasion, I have laughed out loud at your posts (the flower on the bra comes to mind). #3 The Wife...what don't you inspire me to do? I fucking hate jogging and you got me doing that. This I can do whilst drinking at the same time. Win/win. Seriously, Sweetheart, your vigilant updates have helped keep my family connected with our daughter. I can never thank you enough for that. You, too, are a gifted and talented writer. Your Dad is right...publishable. xoxo.
Well, that about does it for the inaugural post. Enjoy the ensuing hilarity.
I'm off to make friends and influence people....
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