1..
I was once pulled over by the police when I was going 34 in a 30 mph zone. Here's how the event happened. I held the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead and didn't even look at the officer. When she approached my vehicle, the first thing she told me was that I was going 40 in a 30. I was really going 34 in a 30, but since that is speeding, I can't argue that fact. That lie still set into motion my anger. I handed her my insurance and license without looking at her or speaking. She went to her squad car and was there for a few minutes, which is definitely not a good sign. From other experiences in the past, I realized that I would be paying a ticket no matter if the officer lied. Sometimes you can't fight City Hall, but you can have some fun! So, I made sure to keep both hands on the steering wheel the entire time. When she returned with the ticket expecting my signature, I attempted to sign my name quickly and sloppily so she wouldn't notice I had signed it F*** You. But she noticed, and you should have seen her look of shock. She was ranting in surprise and telling me "I can't believe you did this!" and "You must sign your real name!" I stopped looking at her. My hands went right back to the steering wheel and I stared straight ahead in front of my car. I know how to be stubborn. She kept screaming those two lines. She was so flustered, she had to call back-up. First, another officer in a squad car arrived. Then a plain clothes detective showed up in an undercover car. The last officer at this "side of the road party" was a motorcyle cop. All three extra cops were men. They all were baffled by my reluctance to sign my name correctly, why I wouldn't speak, and why I wouldn't look at them. Finally, the motorcycle cop opened my door and ordered me out of my car. I stepped out and he told me I had to sign my name correctly because my signature is my bond. If I didn't sign it correctly, I would be taken to jail. So, I gave up. Well, sort of. I beckoned the female officer with my finger for her to bring the ticket to re-sign, this time with a correct signature. She approached, shaking in fear. I signed my name. She looked to make sure it was correct. It was. She handed me my copy of the ticket. The last icing on the cake, I grabbed the ticket, smiled a broad smile, then got in my car and took off. The last thing I remember was all 4 of their faces in bewilderment. It was close to being worth paying that ticket, but not really. I can't afford a lawyer to fight this bullshit or take off work to fight it myself. This is where they have us by the balls.
-34 in a 30-
My brother and I were out in the back of our house playing with our toys when I was a young child. My brother went in our house to find a lighter. He decided to light one of those little green army men on fire in his hand. The green army man started melting in his hand and he yelled "Ouch!" and shook his hand vigorously to get the melting plastic off his hand. The army man flew out of his hand up in the air and landed on my leg about 5 feet away from him. It landed on my left leg just next to my knee. It hurt alot so I tried to pust the melting plastic off my leg over and over again, but it stuck to my leg and hurt my fingers to touch it. I just had to endure the pain and wait for it to cool off. I still have a scar on my leg over 20 years later! Thanks, Bro.
-Little Green Army Men--
I felt the need to take a statue of Ronald Mcdonald at an outdoor Mcdonald's Playland, just to see if I could do it. I drove a pickup truck to Mcdonalds in the wee hours of the night carrying a blanket specifically to steal the statue. The blanket was used to cover the spiked fence, then climb over into the outdoor playland. Ronald was bolted down, so I had to shake the statue very hard back and forth to break the base. I tossed the heavy statue over the fence, climbed back over the fence, and then used the blanket to wrap the statue. Finally, the statue was tossed into the bed of the truck and I took off. Ronald Mcdonald ended up wearing a Fuck Iraq T-shirt, a bandana, and held a large kitchen knife in his hand.
-Ronald Mcdonald--
It is my belief that every dog has his day. In this case, that means everyone who does illegal stuff will be taken care of at some point. Here is an example of a tale I heard that may prove me right. I heard of a fellow who was very intelligent and has a wife, a child, and worked a couple of jobs. Even though he worked hard all his adult life, he still had the itch to be a scammer. He was always finding ways to take money from "the Man." He never once got caught scamming, but went to jail for a few days for vagrancy. Here is how that story unfolded. He was living from couch to couch for a few years. One of the couches he ended staying on was with a friend at an apartment. He was there about a month or so and was happy to have a place to sleep. One morning when he was alone in the apartment, he was awoken to the sounds of the landlord opening the door to the apartment. The landlord was surprised to see him there. The landlord notified this couch dweller "You shouldn't be here, you've been evicted!" The couch dweller was surprised to hear this news and said "I just need a few minutes to gather my things." He gathered his things as quickly as possible, within about 10 minutes, but the officer walked in just as the couch dweller was about to leave. The officer arrested him for vagrancy. You see, he may not have been caught for every crime, but he did get a felony conviction on his record for a crime he did not commit. That sounds like Karma to me!
-Every Dog Has His Day--
I was working at a pizza place one day when two police officers walked in. They looked around. It appeared they were looking for someone. I looked at one of the hispanic cooks and he looked kind of nervous seeing the officers in the dining area. I noticed an opportunity to have some fun. I approached the cook and told him, "The police are looking for you! Quickly, get in the walk-in refrigerator in back and hide!" He listened to my advice. I walked up to the dining area to see what the police wanted, but they had already walked out. The cops were only there about 2 minutes. I went to the cook and told him,"I got rid of the police for you." He looked relieved. His brother approached me a few days later and asked what the cops wanted. I came clean and told him I didn't know what the cops wanted and that I was just teasing. We had a good laugh. The nervous cook obviously had a guilty conscience.
-Guilty Conscience--
Once, I was in art class in high school. We had been working with clay. About five minutes before the ending bell rang, my teacher told the class to wash our hands. One female student and I walked up to the same faucet to wash our hands. I turned on both the hot and cold at the same time, waited a few seconds, then placed my hands under the faucet to feel the temperature of the water. I pulled my hands back quickly and had an obviously pained expression on my face. The girl asked me, "Is it hot?!? I said "No, it's super cold!" She looked at the water, then placed her hands under the faucet. She burned her hands too.
-Cold Water--
I began telling whoppers to my niece, Jamie, ever since she was five years old. I told her about little "whoopies" who lived in the garden and came out at night. The whoopies left notes on little sticks, asking for food. I explained that if their requests were fulfilled they would instill a little magic in return. In the following weeks I began to see tiny care packages left in the garden--grapes, popcorn, bits of candy and other such goodies. (I had left tiny query letters in strategic areas of the garden). Months later Jamie asked me if the whoopies would ever bestow upon her any magical abilities, after all she'd kept up her part of the bargain. I examined one of her ears and said, "Yep, it's already begun. Your left ear is starting to grow a point which means you're an apprentice elf." Many years later when I'd lost touch of the family, I'd returned to my sister's house. This was during the time my niece enrolled as a freshman in High school. My sister remarked to me that day that Jamie had come home bawling her eyes out because the other girls had humiliated her in physical education class. Some girl had remarked how beautiful Jamie was, and that she had especially nice ears from which to hang earings. It was at this time that Jamie proudly confessed that she was indeed half elf, one ot Santa's official employees, and it was rather obvious because she did, indeed, have the beginning of pointed ears. Well, they let her have it but good, taunting her, and finally chasing her out of the shower. It was a completely traumatic experience for her, having to this day, never forgiven me for such a blatant and destructive lie. I have only my story-telling talent to blame for such an adolescent stunt played on an adolescent.
-Santa's Little Helper--
The interior light in my car was directly in the center of the roof between the front and back seats. The switch to turn this light on and off was not near the light itself. It was a switch on the left side of the dashboard, just to the left of the steering wheel..
Late one night I was driving home from an outdoor concert with my friend's sister named Sharon. Sharon was trying to touch the interior light to check her make-up. She was obviously trying to find the light switch to turn it on. I got a brilliant idea to play around with her. I reached over with my left hand and switched the light ON. The light came on and I said "Hey, how did you fix that light? I have not been able to get that light to work the whole time I've had this car!" Sharon was happy to show me how she tapped on the plastic to get the light to work. She would tap the plastic in some pattern and I would be turning the light on and off while she tapped. I attempted to tap the plastic on the interior light, but for some reason it wouldn't work! She would say "No, No. You aren't doing it correctly." She then would tap on it and it would work. I acted amazed. I only had this harmless fun for about five minutes.
A few weeks later, Sharon came into my apartment for a party. During the party, she walked up to me and started pounding on my arm. She was pissed that I did this to her. One of my friends was drunk and spilled the beans about what I'd done. He never got sensitive information like this again.
-Interior Light--
I grew up in south Texas when I was a teen. We were right on the border of Mexico. Sometimes I would cross over into Mexico to go drinking at the bars with my older sister and her best friend. Whenever those two got drunk, they got mean and belligerant and fought. Once, when I was 16, we were down in Reynosa, Mexico drinking. I was minding my own business, by myself, at one of the local bars. I heard a ruckus outside. I walked out of the bar to find that my sister and her friend were drunk(What a surprise!). Federales were putting cuffs on those two. They had obviously been fighting in the street. I knew my parents would be pissed if they found out we were there in Mexico drinking. I also knew those two would probably have been raped and abused in a prison there. I approached the federales and gave them my last $20. The federales gave us a five minute head start to run to the border. So, we found ourselves running very fast for that approximate half mile. We made it and I never went drinking with those two in Mexico again.
-Cat-Fight in Mexico-
10.
This story happened shortly after the cat-fight in Mexico. My sister woke me up one morning and told me I had to come to her room immediately. I didn't understand what she wanted, but she seemed urgent, so I followed her. When I went to her closet and she opened the door, there was a cute little Mexican boy hiding in there. My sister explained. She and her best friend had gone to Mexico the night before to go drinking. This particular little boy had approached the two to sell them Chicklets gum. Both girls thought the kid was the cutest thing they had seen and they needed to take him back to the U.S. My sister hid the child in the hatchback of her car while they crossed the border. Now my sister wanted my opinion on what to do. I said,"You should return him immediately. Do you realize how many laws you've broken?!?" I distracted my parents and they snuck the kid back into the hatchback and crossed the border to Mexico again. They were succesful in dropping off the kid where he came from.
-Kidnapper in Mexico--