When Aza first created my blog in January and got me started, The Enforcer over at The Enforcer’s Notebook gave me an awesome shout out welcoming me to the community.
Now that I'm settled I really enjoy looking at all of the folks that check out my blog. Aza has taught me all of the in’s and out’s of the blogosphere. One of the things that she has taught me is to always make an effort to visit other people’s blogs, particularly those who take the time to visit me and comment.
With that in mind I would like to welcome a few new bloggers to the blogosphere and encourage all that visit me to check out their blogs. First up is LEO For The People, he just starting posting this month. Also, LEO Dark Nights who came on the scene about the same time as I did. And finally, a brand new dispatcher, Brother In Blue has arrived! Both LEO blogs are great reads and I suspect the new dispatchers blog will be great too, tell them Kojak sent ya!
I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
A night to remember!
I have lived a very long time and had a ton of friends along the way; they’ve come and gone. Some relocated for job opportunities, others unfortunately passed away and a few went through nasty relationship break ups. I have found in my long in the tooth years of living on this earth that true friends never leave your side. When times and weather get rough that’s when you know who your real friends are. That said, I honestly feel that Aza is and always will be my best friend.
I believe she wrote in that beautiful post that she wanted me to have a birthday with “My Friends” I can tell you that when I was with Mrs. Ed I never had a birthday with my friends. They were never invited because it was always about her friends being forced into my life. My birthday was always an excuse for her to have another “girl’s night out”. I got very tired of that so when Aza told me about what she was going to do I was touched and deeply appreciative. I can tell you that it was a monumental feat in itself to organize and plan for roughly 40 police officers to all get together at one time and place. This was done in absolute perfection by her. We have a place in our city that is basically an arcade for adults (they have a full service bar). The plan was for everybody to meet there, socialize, if they wanted to drink a few beers go ahead and knock yourself out, but most importantly just to relax and have a good time. I had over 40 of my closest friends and coworkers there including the entire staff at my lawyer’s office. One of the dispatcher’s that works in my zone a lot was invited. She brought 2 other dispatchers with her so all of the officers were able to put a face with a voice. I respect our dispatcher’s tremendously, they are our life line.
I got a ton of gift’s ranging from gift cards to restaurants’ to the Harley Davidson shop, which I went to today. Aza’s dad came, now if you knew her dad you would know that this isn’t something that he would do for anyone due to his disability. I was so proud that he came, he is like a father to me and I have the utmost respect for him so I was thrilled. After things kinda slowed down, the cakes were attacked with ferocity and the gifts opened. Aza and I along with another officer that we surprised with a cake because it was her birthday a few days earlier went to play games. We had a ball, I was told that I had to play that dance game- you know the one that you stand on the platform and jump on the arrows when they roll up the screen in front of you. Aza demanded that I get on that stupid thing with her. She kicked my old ass! She was dancing up a storm while I just stood there looking stupid, feeling very old and completely uncoordinated. We ended up closing the place down at midnight. The really cool thing was that nobody got stupid drunk, people met their co workers and had great fellowship. It was a fantastic party that will have everybody talking for a long time to come; because of Aza’s efforts everyone had a great time. It was an awesome night and one that I will never forget!
When Aza read her post to me before we left for the party, I have to be honest, I had some very big croc tears. It brought back some very serious memories. I loved my mother and father so much. I was so lucky to have 2 people that at any moment would have given their life for me. They were deeply in love with each other throughout my entire life. I was very blessed in more ways than one. It is amazing to me how one person can make such an impact on your life. Those words that Aza wrote really came from her heart. I knew that because when she read it to me I could feel it in her voice. I know that if my parents were alive today they would have absolutely loved her and her family to death. I’ll tell you why- because they honestly love me from the heart. That’s all that my parents ever wanted for me. I feel like I let them down because of the failed marriages but I guess that’s just life. I know that I could hear my mother now, “Honey she is a sweet girl, that’s what momma wants you to settle down with.” Of course, she would understand that I was wayyyyyyy too old, plus she is veryyyyyyyy married.
I remember my mother telling me about my birth. I really was not supposed to live. As Aza wrote, I stayed 5 months in the incubator. My mother by her own admission did not bond with me. She told me that she never held me the entire time. Then one day they told her that I was going to pull through so get the room ready. I came home and she honestly didn’t have that motherly feeling until one day it hit her like a ton of bricks. She told me that I looked at her and smiled, the rest is history. My dad was bad ass. He ruled with an iron thumb so I didn’t get away with anything. I had a great deal of respect for him because he was a real family man. He worked hard, played hard with me, but was always there for me, just as my mother was. So, Aza was incredibly accurate with her words. They are gut wrenching for me because I truly miss my parents but I can lay my head on the pillow every night and sleep well because I know in my heart that I was loved and when they needed me I was there for them just as they were for me.
Aza, I will say it again and again you mean everything in the world to me. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I know that my parents are looking down and smiling because their prayers were answered. All they wanted was for me to be happy. Well, after 48 years I am truly happy. I owe it all to you and your family. I know in my heart that I have friends and family for life.
I Love You and Thank You for all that you do for me. I thank God every day that we are family.
I’m Out and We’ll Talk Later.
I believe she wrote in that beautiful post that she wanted me to have a birthday with “My Friends” I can tell you that when I was with Mrs. Ed I never had a birthday with my friends. They were never invited because it was always about her friends being forced into my life. My birthday was always an excuse for her to have another “girl’s night out”. I got very tired of that so when Aza told me about what she was going to do I was touched and deeply appreciative. I can tell you that it was a monumental feat in itself to organize and plan for roughly 40 police officers to all get together at one time and place. This was done in absolute perfection by her. We have a place in our city that is basically an arcade for adults (they have a full service bar). The plan was for everybody to meet there, socialize, if they wanted to drink a few beers go ahead and knock yourself out, but most importantly just to relax and have a good time. I had over 40 of my closest friends and coworkers there including the entire staff at my lawyer’s office. One of the dispatcher’s that works in my zone a lot was invited. She brought 2 other dispatchers with her so all of the officers were able to put a face with a voice. I respect our dispatcher’s tremendously, they are our life line.
I got a ton of gift’s ranging from gift cards to restaurants’ to the Harley Davidson shop, which I went to today. Aza’s dad came, now if you knew her dad you would know that this isn’t something that he would do for anyone due to his disability. I was so proud that he came, he is like a father to me and I have the utmost respect for him so I was thrilled. After things kinda slowed down, the cakes were attacked with ferocity and the gifts opened. Aza and I along with another officer that we surprised with a cake because it was her birthday a few days earlier went to play games. We had a ball, I was told that I had to play that dance game- you know the one that you stand on the platform and jump on the arrows when they roll up the screen in front of you. Aza demanded that I get on that stupid thing with her. She kicked my old ass! She was dancing up a storm while I just stood there looking stupid, feeling very old and completely uncoordinated. We ended up closing the place down at midnight. The really cool thing was that nobody got stupid drunk, people met their co workers and had great fellowship. It was a fantastic party that will have everybody talking for a long time to come; because of Aza’s efforts everyone had a great time. It was an awesome night and one that I will never forget!
When Aza read her post to me before we left for the party, I have to be honest, I had some very big croc tears. It brought back some very serious memories. I loved my mother and father so much. I was so lucky to have 2 people that at any moment would have given their life for me. They were deeply in love with each other throughout my entire life. I was very blessed in more ways than one. It is amazing to me how one person can make such an impact on your life. Those words that Aza wrote really came from her heart. I knew that because when she read it to me I could feel it in her voice. I know that if my parents were alive today they would have absolutely loved her and her family to death. I’ll tell you why- because they honestly love me from the heart. That’s all that my parents ever wanted for me. I feel like I let them down because of the failed marriages but I guess that’s just life. I know that I could hear my mother now, “Honey she is a sweet girl, that’s what momma wants you to settle down with.” Of course, she would understand that I was wayyyyyyy too old, plus she is veryyyyyyyy married.
I remember my mother telling me about my birth. I really was not supposed to live. As Aza wrote, I stayed 5 months in the incubator. My mother by her own admission did not bond with me. She told me that she never held me the entire time. Then one day they told her that I was going to pull through so get the room ready. I came home and she honestly didn’t have that motherly feeling until one day it hit her like a ton of bricks. She told me that I looked at her and smiled, the rest is history. My dad was bad ass. He ruled with an iron thumb so I didn’t get away with anything. I had a great deal of respect for him because he was a real family man. He worked hard, played hard with me, but was always there for me, just as my mother was. So, Aza was incredibly accurate with her words. They are gut wrenching for me because I truly miss my parents but I can lay my head on the pillow every night and sleep well because I know in my heart that I was loved and when they needed me I was there for them just as they were for me.
Aza, I will say it again and again you mean everything in the world to me. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I know that my parents are looking down and smiling because their prayers were answered. All they wanted was for me to be happy. Well, after 48 years I am truly happy. I owe it all to you and your family. I know in my heart that I have friends and family for life.
I Love You and Thank You for all that you do for me. I thank God every day that we are family.
I’m Out and We’ll Talk Later.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Happy Birthday, Kojak!!!
The venue has been booked, 8 trillion invitations sent, 8 trillion RSVP’s made, the bomb of all birthday cakes ordered and the decorations readied for decoratin’ the venue (one in particular that will embarrass the hell out of you……I found your baby pics! Here's where you picture me laughing maniacally).
Seriously, I hope that tonight’s birthday celebration is the best you’ve ever had. I’d like to read the below to you and your guests as a sort of toast this evening. However, should the right moment slip by or my nerve weaken I’m posting it here for you. Happy birthday, hon! I’m blessed to call you friend…
A small delicate woman and her husband sat filled with nervous anxiety in a doctor’s office. They had tried to conceive but had been told repeatedly that it would never happen. Her fragile body simply could not bear or support a pregnancy to term. This appointment was different as was the news her doctor delivered; against all odds she had conceived. She was warned that the pregnancy would most probably fail ending in a miscarriage and to not get her hopes up. After being told nothing short of a miracle had taken place, how could she not get her hopes up. She and her husband left the appointment with a renewed sense of life. God had answered their prayer. Determination replaced anxiety. Determination to carry this child in her body, nourish him, love him and successfully deliver him. Determination to be a mother and give her husband the gift of fatherhood.
As the weeks passed her body tried to keep up with the ever changing biological and biochemical environment that pregnancy brings. She ate well, got plenty of rest and her husband cared for her diligently. It was a warm April evening in 1960, she was barely 7 months into her term. Something felt wrong. Her body had grown so weak and could no longer sustain a growing baby that it was never meant to support in the first place. Fear washed over her heart as her worst nightmare was quickly becoming a reality, she was going into labor. 12 exhausting hours and an emergency caesarian later, April 15th at 7:20 in the morning they heard the faint, frail cry of a beautiful baby boy. She and her husband, filled with love and joy for this precious gift from God, knew that though their prayers had been answered, their new son wasn’t out of harm’s way yet. He had been delivered dangerously early. Again, they were told not to get their hopes up. Premature births had a very high mortality rate.
Their beloved infant would spend the next 5 months continuing to grow and develop in an incubator. Each minute seeing their new untouchable baby attached to monitors displaying every heartbeat and breath taken must have seemed like an eternity as they watched him struggle to live, unable to hold and caress him in their arms. With each passing day their love and prayers helped him grow stronger. Finally the day came when they would be able to cradle a little miracle, touch his face and hold his tiny hands. The danger had passed.
Now, beating the odds, a man sits before you celebrating his 48th year of life. With 27 of them dedicated to doing God’s work as a police officer paying homage for answering a scared young couple's prayer years earlier. In our darkest hour and weakest moment when God is unable to physically intervene he sends his enforcers; the mercy of God working through the hands and hearts of those in blue. What is the first thing that most of you hear when arriving on catastrophic and terrible scenes where fear and uncertainty reign? “Thank God you‘re here!”
Today we are not just celebrating a birthday, another year of life. We are celebrating a miracle. Thank God you're here!
Much Love and Many Blessings,
Aza
Seriously, I hope that tonight’s birthday celebration is the best you’ve ever had. I’d like to read the below to you and your guests as a sort of toast this evening. However, should the right moment slip by or my nerve weaken I’m posting it here for you. Happy birthday, hon! I’m blessed to call you friend…
A small delicate woman and her husband sat filled with nervous anxiety in a doctor’s office. They had tried to conceive but had been told repeatedly that it would never happen. Her fragile body simply could not bear or support a pregnancy to term. This appointment was different as was the news her doctor delivered; against all odds she had conceived. She was warned that the pregnancy would most probably fail ending in a miscarriage and to not get her hopes up. After being told nothing short of a miracle had taken place, how could she not get her hopes up. She and her husband left the appointment with a renewed sense of life. God had answered their prayer. Determination replaced anxiety. Determination to carry this child in her body, nourish him, love him and successfully deliver him. Determination to be a mother and give her husband the gift of fatherhood.
As the weeks passed her body tried to keep up with the ever changing biological and biochemical environment that pregnancy brings. She ate well, got plenty of rest and her husband cared for her diligently. It was a warm April evening in 1960, she was barely 7 months into her term. Something felt wrong. Her body had grown so weak and could no longer sustain a growing baby that it was never meant to support in the first place. Fear washed over her heart as her worst nightmare was quickly becoming a reality, she was going into labor. 12 exhausting hours and an emergency caesarian later, April 15th at 7:20 in the morning they heard the faint, frail cry of a beautiful baby boy. She and her husband, filled with love and joy for this precious gift from God, knew that though their prayers had been answered, their new son wasn’t out of harm’s way yet. He had been delivered dangerously early. Again, they were told not to get their hopes up. Premature births had a very high mortality rate.
Their beloved infant would spend the next 5 months continuing to grow and develop in an incubator. Each minute seeing their new untouchable baby attached to monitors displaying every heartbeat and breath taken must have seemed like an eternity as they watched him struggle to live, unable to hold and caress him in their arms. With each passing day their love and prayers helped him grow stronger. Finally the day came when they would be able to cradle a little miracle, touch his face and hold his tiny hands. The danger had passed.
Now, beating the odds, a man sits before you celebrating his 48th year of life. With 27 of them dedicated to doing God’s work as a police officer paying homage for answering a scared young couple's prayer years earlier. In our darkest hour and weakest moment when God is unable to physically intervene he sends his enforcers; the mercy of God working through the hands and hearts of those in blue. What is the first thing that most of you hear when arriving on catastrophic and terrible scenes where fear and uncertainty reign? “Thank God you‘re here!”
Today we are not just celebrating a birthday, another year of life. We are celebrating a miracle. Thank God you're here!
Much Love and Many Blessings,
Aza
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Ink issues
I have a bit of a dilemma on my back (pun intended) and I am calling on my blog family for suggestions/advice.
When I turned 40 the mid life crisis fairy came for a visit. The first thing that I did was get a tattoo. My dad, who I was very close to had a big panther on his upper left arm. As a kid I always thought that it was so cool. So, after a few brewsky’s one night I went to the neighborhood tattoo shop and got the same thing in honor of my dad. When I was finished the guy told me that one would not be enough. Well sure enough one was not enough. I got to thinking about what I wanted. I decided that I would get something to honor my career so I got a "macho" looking policeman with the background of my city on my right arm. Unfortunately instead of looking all badass and macho, it looks like the Blue Oyster guy on Police Academy. Not happy! Surely that would be enough I thought. Yeah right! My third and final tattoo found its way on my “Top 5 biggest mistakes I’ve ever made” (marrying Mrs. Ed being in the top 3) list. Tattoo number 3 is the ugly ass crap that I have across my upper back, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Regrettably it has the future ex’s name dead smack in the middle of it. Needless to say I hate that tattoo! I was talking to Aza and we have been brainstorming about my next adventure. I can tell you that I am without a doubt going to cover up the one on my back first and foremost. Then I'll have my dads panther touched up and the Blue Oyster guy reworked. This is where the dilemma starts.
I really didn’t know what the heck I was doing when I got the tattoos. What I mean is in regards to the artist. The guy that did mine really did not do a good job at all and had an extremely heavy hand. I didn’t understand that until I actually met a few of the top artists in my city. I see their work and boy is mine fly by night. They look like jail house tats at best.
Aza had some work done by another fly by night douche bag that really screwed hers up. I was told by a friend of mine and fellow officer about a guy that was very police friendly. I contacted him and turned Aza on to him. She went and had her work redone. This guy did a super job! The funny thing about him is that he does everything free hand, no stencil. I am very impressed with the work that he did on Aza, as is everyone that’s seen it, so I am going to get some cover up work done.
I really want to do something for my mother since I have the one for my dad. I just don’t know what. I have been leaning towards an Eagle on my back holding some type of memorial for both of my parents. Geez, this is a tough decision- obviously Aza’s opinion means a lot to me; she hasn‘t steered me wrong yet.
So tell me what you think or tell me what tats you have so maybe I can decide what to do. I do know that I what that S*IT on my back goneeeeee!!!!!!!
I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later.
When I turned 40 the mid life crisis fairy came for a visit. The first thing that I did was get a tattoo. My dad, who I was very close to had a big panther on his upper left arm. As a kid I always thought that it was so cool. So, after a few brewsky’s one night I went to the neighborhood tattoo shop and got the same thing in honor of my dad. When I was finished the guy told me that one would not be enough. Well sure enough one was not enough. I got to thinking about what I wanted. I decided that I would get something to honor my career so I got a "macho" looking policeman with the background of my city on my right arm. Unfortunately instead of looking all badass and macho, it looks like the Blue Oyster guy on Police Academy. Not happy! Surely that would be enough I thought. Yeah right! My third and final tattoo found its way on my “Top 5 biggest mistakes I’ve ever made” (marrying Mrs. Ed being in the top 3) list. Tattoo number 3 is the ugly ass crap that I have across my upper back, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Regrettably it has the future ex’s name dead smack in the middle of it. Needless to say I hate that tattoo! I was talking to Aza and we have been brainstorming about my next adventure. I can tell you that I am without a doubt going to cover up the one on my back first and foremost. Then I'll have my dads panther touched up and the Blue Oyster guy reworked. This is where the dilemma starts.
I really didn’t know what the heck I was doing when I got the tattoos. What I mean is in regards to the artist. The guy that did mine really did not do a good job at all and had an extremely heavy hand. I didn’t understand that until I actually met a few of the top artists in my city. I see their work and boy is mine fly by night. They look like jail house tats at best.
Aza had some work done by another fly by night douche bag that really screwed hers up. I was told by a friend of mine and fellow officer about a guy that was very police friendly. I contacted him and turned Aza on to him. She went and had her work redone. This guy did a super job! The funny thing about him is that he does everything free hand, no stencil. I am very impressed with the work that he did on Aza, as is everyone that’s seen it, so I am going to get some cover up work done.
I really want to do something for my mother since I have the one for my dad. I just don’t know what. I have been leaning towards an Eagle on my back holding some type of memorial for both of my parents. Geez, this is a tough decision- obviously Aza’s opinion means a lot to me; she hasn‘t steered me wrong yet.
So tell me what you think or tell me what tats you have so maybe I can decide what to do. I do know that I what that S*IT on my back goneeeeee!!!!!!!
I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Aza here...
Sorry for busting in again. I’ve made a few changes on Glock N’ Cuffs. Kojak now has an email address attached to his profile. Also his links have changed. Please check that you’re under the correct heading.
Fellow Enforcers From Around The World- should be LEO’s in general (retired or not). Police, corrections, community service officers, etc.
An Enforcers Lifeline- should be dispatchers, EMT’s, Firefighters, (pro-police) state attorney’s (I’m sorry I had to add “pro-police” to the state attorney part- we currently have one in my city that fights the police at every turn) etc. Basically any job title that directly works with or assists an LEO in his/her day to day work.
Civilians Who Support the Enforcers- should be wives, husbands, children or friends of LEO’s. (Hott Cops just rocks!)
Another Link in the Chain- is just nonspecific sites that Kojak likes to visit.
If you’re not in the correct link list, please email Kojak.
Thanks,
Aza
Fellow Enforcers From Around The World- should be LEO’s in general (retired or not). Police, corrections, community service officers, etc.
An Enforcers Lifeline- should be dispatchers, EMT’s, Firefighters, (pro-police) state attorney’s (I’m sorry I had to add “pro-police” to the state attorney part- we currently have one in my city that fights the police at every turn) etc. Basically any job title that directly works with or assists an LEO in his/her day to day work.
Civilians Who Support the Enforcers- should be wives, husbands, children or friends of LEO’s. (Hott Cops just rocks!)
Another Link in the Chain- is just nonspecific sites that Kojak likes to visit.
If you’re not in the correct link list, please email Kojak.
Thanks,
Aza
No, it does not read: "To Serve (as public transportation) and Protect"
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, “People never cease to amaze me!”
I went to help another officer out with a call to a domestic violence. Of course when we arrived, we contact our complainant. We will call him “Dumbass” from here on out. So, Dumbass has 3 police officers standing in front of him with a combined total of 50 years of experience. Now, you know with that much time on the job and a complainant that is drunk as a skunk, somebody is gonna be a smart ass but we are going to try really hard not to be.
Let’s start at the beginning. Dumbass gets into an argument with his fiancée because he thinks she’s doing the nasty with the neighbor. The fiancée who is just as drunk as Dumbass didn’t like that accusation very much so she jumped into their van (which has both of their names on the title). Dumbass was going to stop her, he wasn’t about to let this woman leave in HIS car that HE bought. So in true Dumbass form he jumped in front of the van in a show of manhood- or in an attempt to win a Darwin award, the other responding officers and myself are still debating that. The fiancée looked at him, laughed and drove around him in a blaze of glory.
Dumbass was really mad, he was going to show her so he called 911. Thus into the story comes the three stooges. Dumbass picked me out of the three of us for some strange reason (which is also under hot debate). He starts out with “I got a doctors appointment at 7am in the morning. They’re going to do a heart cath on me! She took my van and I want it back!” I decided to completely forgo explaining to him all of the things that were wrong with this scenario thus far. Namely (and I’m completely bypassing…get it? Bypassing? Okay, so it wasn’t that funny…the fact that he jumped in front of a moving vehicle), you’re drunk and you have a heart cath tomorrow!? Now if that isn’t a Darwin award nomination I don’t know what is!
Anyway, without getting into all of that I asked him if he was the only one on the registration. Dumbass says no. Well, that’s a problem I tell him because she has every right to that vehicle, just as much as he does. Dumbass looked me straight in the eyeball and once again with sincerity on his face says, “Well which one of you is gonna pick me up and take me to my doctors office in the morning? Cause if I die tonight it’s going to be all of ya’lls fault!” This is where the little smartass that lives deep within my psyche decided to make a nasty appearance. I looked at this drunk, smelly, inbred and said “Sir, I certainly hope that you don’t die, however if you do, I promise you I will not lose a bit of sleep over it.” Ohhhhhh that struck a nerve, he jumped up, stumbled a little bit and said “I pay taxes, that means I pay your salary! I want service and I want it in the morning, so you need to get here and take me to my doctors appointment!” Wow, if I had a dime for every time I heard the ol’ “I pay your salary with my taxes” spiel! I could only laugh at this point, I looked at Dumbass and told him that if he paid my salary I needed a raise because apparently he wasn’t paying enough taxes. Dumbass was really pissed now. So naturally he demanded my car number and my partners car numbers as well. Ummmmm, okay. I was eager to give him this information. I even told him, “Please complain on me first! I would love to see my supervisors face when you tell him that you are demanding that I take you to the doctors office in the morning.” Dumbassstumbled stormed out in the yard and in true dramatic drunk form attempted to write down the cars numbers. Again, all we could do was laugh. We walked out to our cars and left as Dumbass bid us farewell by yelling the following, “If I die I’m going to sue all of you cause it’s your fault, you need to take me to my doctors appointment!!!” Yeah. Okay.
You gotta love this job….. I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later!
I went to help another officer out with a call to a domestic violence. Of course when we arrived, we contact our complainant. We will call him “Dumbass” from here on out. So, Dumbass has 3 police officers standing in front of him with a combined total of 50 years of experience. Now, you know with that much time on the job and a complainant that is drunk as a skunk, somebody is gonna be a smart ass but we are going to try really hard not to be.
Let’s start at the beginning. Dumbass gets into an argument with his fiancée because he thinks she’s doing the nasty with the neighbor. The fiancée who is just as drunk as Dumbass didn’t like that accusation very much so she jumped into their van (which has both of their names on the title). Dumbass was going to stop her, he wasn’t about to let this woman leave in HIS car that HE bought. So in true Dumbass form he jumped in front of the van in a show of manhood- or in an attempt to win a Darwin award, the other responding officers and myself are still debating that. The fiancée looked at him, laughed and drove around him in a blaze of glory.
Dumbass was really mad, he was going to show her so he called 911. Thus into the story comes the three stooges. Dumbass picked me out of the three of us for some strange reason (which is also under hot debate). He starts out with “I got a doctors appointment at 7am in the morning. They’re going to do a heart cath on me! She took my van and I want it back!” I decided to completely forgo explaining to him all of the things that were wrong with this scenario thus far. Namely (and I’m completely bypassing…get it? Bypassing? Okay, so it wasn’t that funny…the fact that he jumped in front of a moving vehicle), you’re drunk and you have a heart cath tomorrow!? Now if that isn’t a Darwin award nomination I don’t know what is!
Anyway, without getting into all of that I asked him if he was the only one on the registration. Dumbass says no. Well, that’s a problem I tell him because she has every right to that vehicle, just as much as he does. Dumbass looked me straight in the eyeball and once again with sincerity on his face says, “Well which one of you is gonna pick me up and take me to my doctors office in the morning? Cause if I die tonight it’s going to be all of ya’lls fault!” This is where the little smartass that lives deep within my psyche decided to make a nasty appearance. I looked at this drunk, smelly, inbred and said “Sir, I certainly hope that you don’t die, however if you do, I promise you I will not lose a bit of sleep over it.” Ohhhhhh that struck a nerve, he jumped up, stumbled a little bit and said “I pay taxes, that means I pay your salary! I want service and I want it in the morning, so you need to get here and take me to my doctors appointment!” Wow, if I had a dime for every time I heard the ol’ “I pay your salary with my taxes” spiel! I could only laugh at this point, I looked at Dumbass and told him that if he paid my salary I needed a raise because apparently he wasn’t paying enough taxes. Dumbass was really pissed now. So naturally he demanded my car number and my partners car numbers as well. Ummmmm, okay. I was eager to give him this information. I even told him, “Please complain on me first! I would love to see my supervisors face when you tell him that you are demanding that I take you to the doctors office in the morning.” Dumbass
You gotta love this job….. I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later!
Sunday, April 6, 2008
The latest, in bullets
- Well, I got the official word- Mrs. Ed’s attorney officially fired her due to “Irreconcilable Differences!” HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Please tell me how you get fired from your attorney? Are you kidding me? Now I would think that anybody with any sense at all would look at that and come to the same conclusion her attorney obviously did, “She’s A Fucking Lunatic!” That is a direct quote from her attorney to my attorney. My loyal readers know that I don’t use that language on my bog. I have said it all along, she just doesn’t know how to handle herself, everything is always somebody else’s fault, never hers. Wow, you know you’re screwed up when your attorney fires you, that speaks volumes because we know they just don’t do that. Karma, it’s just a wonderful thing isn’t it?
- Aza has completed the last of the laundry, I know she had to have done at a minimum of 70 loads. I just can’t brag enough about her, she and her family are something else. I know that I have been whining and crying about my finances. When I got my stuff my motorcycle was included. I tried starting it but since it sat so long the battery was dead. Aza’s dad was with me and just like his daughter, stepped up and said go get a battery. He put it on his interest free credit card just so I could get it started. This family is something else, they just never cease to amaze me with their generosity. We went to the store, bought the battery and cranked her up. It was music to my ears!
- I told Aza about a tax guy that I have been using for a few years now. She has been going to a company that her bank recommended for a number of years, each time walking out barely breaking even or having to pay. I convinced her to try my guy and she finally agreed after her people told her that she owed, big. Here’s the great part, I told her “Get your boots on girl, we’re taking the bike!!” We cranked Bessy up and off we went. It’s about 35 miles one way and we had a ball. By the time we got back 80 miles later, we were sunburned, tired and she was very happy with the outcome. She was told by her tax people that she owed Uncle Sam $1170.00 dollars. When she walked out of my tax guy, she owed $170.00 dollars. This guy is amazing, he is so up to date on all the in’s and out’s of what you can and can’t deduct. For all of my brother and sister officers I would love to turn you on to this guy, I guarantee you he will save you money. Yes, I am that confident. Just one other example, my buddy worked a lot of off duty work that was not taxed. I told him to call my guy, he did. He went in owing $6800.00 dollars, he left owing $140.00 dollars. Point made, he rocks!!!
- When I was married to Mrs. Ed, my birthday routine was always the same: go to dinner with the family, maybe go out and have a few drinks with Her friends, go home. Aza had been acting really funny the last week or so. I finally asked her what was going on. She had to break down and tell me that she had been calling all my friends that I work with and organizing a birthday party for me, since this will be my last with my department. I was speechless and deeply touched that she would take on that task for me. She wrote out 40 funny subpoena styled/formatted invitations, mailed most of them (taking the others to the sub-station) and is now waiting for the R.S.V.P responses. I am certainly not used to somebody doing things like that for me. I know you probably think I am lying, trust me I’m not. This woman isn’t married to me, she probably wouldn’t want an old fart like me anyway, hahaha, but seriously she has done more for me in the last 8 months than the soon to be ex ever did. She said “…all of your birthdays have always turned into being about her and her friends getting together and never about you and yours. It’s time that you had a birthday with your friends.” I had to agree, because she was right. We have a lot of fun and for the first time in a long time I am really looking forward to my birthday- which is April 15th, so ya’ll better be sending gifts!!!! Just kidding, well not really. HaHa
- I am really having a hard time with this retirement thing. When I decided to enter the retirement program I did so for two reasons. My mother was diagnosed with a slow growing cancer, I had her move in with me so I could take care of her. The second reason, Mrs. Ed begged me to retire. I see why now, she had money on the mind, but back then I was blind. Also, my mother was so excited because she worried constantly about me. The city I work in is very violent, especially towards the police here lately. I knew how bad she wanted me to retire so I did thinking I could use the money to take the best care of her possible. It was the least I could do, this woman was the best mother anybody could ever have. I can tell you that I would have traded places with her in a heartbeat if I could have. I hated to see my mother suffer.
Things never work out the way you plan, my mother passed away 7 months after I signed up for the retirement program. Mrs. Ed flipped the F#$%K out which ultimately turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to me and decided to act like white trash. So here I am 3 months out from leaving the best job that I have ever had and I don’t want to leave.
I have to talked to everybody that is anybody about getting out of the program; I have had no luck. I made an appointment with our Sheriff. We are a very large department, 2000 sworn on the street policeman, 3600 total. The Sheriff is like the president, it takes an act of congress to see him. I got lucky, I got an appointment with him just a week after my request. Our Sheriff is very laid back but he is all business. I sat out in the waiting area, he was on the phone with the media because somebody is trying to file a complaint due to a statement he made. He made a blanket statement in regards to “crack baby’s”. A self-proclaimed former crack baby apparently took offense to that, Geez . Anyway he called me in his office. We talked for at least 15 minutes about my award that he presented to me. Aza also got a certificate of appreciation from him as well (Aza and I put together a huge community project last Halloween- more on that later). I finally got down to the nitty gritty of why I was there. When I told him what was going on he was genuinely saddened by the story. I could see it in his demeanor he was visibly upset. The bottom line, he just wasn’t able to help me. The only way to get out of the program is to be appointed to a position by the Sheriff. This just wasn’t an option, now if I was a Lieutenant I may have had a chance. The next step after Lieutenant is Assistant Chief. I knew going into this meeting what the outcome was going to be, I just wanted to exhaust all possibilities. I did and I will be leaving July 8th. I was very excited though, he told me that he would give me his personal recommendation to any Sheriff in our neighboring cities. I just have to call him when the time comes. I was deeply appreciative.
So as I type this, I am counting the day’s until the day that I wake up and don’t put on this uniform. I am saddened but it is what it is.
I’m Out And We’ll Talk Later.
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