Okay, okay. I know. I know. I’ve been missing in action. It is not my fault I have this piece of crap IBM laptop that would not allow me to log on at all and since it would not allow me to log on it would not allow me to see why I would not let me log on. Talk about your Catch22’s. And, because of the type of job I have, it is not like I can just willy-nilly get surf the internet and even if I could, I wouldn’t dare pull up a site entitled, Look at This Nigger. Talk about people being offended if they just happened to find that cookie. So, I have pretty much been fucked for the last week. I have not been able to read comment, read you good people’s blogs, and check my personal email nor my work email (from home).
Well, Friday, I spoke with this reserve officer, who comes in to work for me. Reserve officer are citizens who have gone through all of the training it takes to be a police officer and volunteer their spare time to help enforce the law. They are cool as hell, because police have to put up with a lot of shit and these guys do it for free. I would love to be around, just once, when they arrest those people who say, “I pay your salary!” Err, no you don’t. They have a regular nine to five. They are putting your ass in jail for free.
Anyway, he told me that I probably just needed to unplug my modem and let it reset itself. Well, he actually said something else, but that was pretty much what he meant. So, when I got home that morning, after my outstanding officers caught a couple of ATM burglaries, I tested his theory. That shit didn’t work. So, I said fuck it. Let me go see what kind of laptops they have on sale at Best Buy, maybe I can get one of those 6 months same as cash deals. And even if I couldn’t, my car is paid for, so it is not like it will but me out to splurge on myself for once. If I could find one at a reasonable price I figured it wouldn’t kill me to purchase it so I would continue having to put up with my internet not working.
So, here it is, Father’s day, and although I am not a father I have treated myself to this nice new Compaq laptop. I like it. And, as you can see, I can get on line again. Happy days are here again.
Wow, so much has been going on that I wanted to tell you folks about. I wanted to tell you about how Sgt. Lupe and I got behind the guys who car jacked the man at gun point and with the help of our troops caught all three of the little ass holes. I wanted to tell you about how the youngest one evaded us, on foot, for about an hour before we caught his ass. I wanted to tell you about how, in the process of catching him, at one point I literally ran out of my gun belt (which is hard to do, but some home I managed it). I wanted to comment on how the media has already turned the race for President into a black vs. white debacle. I don’t understand. They are saying that white folks want vote for Obama. What the fuck? Of course they will! Is there anyone out there that honestly believes that Obama got the democratic nod based solely on the power of the “black” vote? Seriously? And what the fuck was that lady journalist saying about Obama and Michelle rapping knuckles, being a terrorist move? Did anybody else see that new cast? They had to demote her dumb ass. America begins to show their true colors and racism rears its ugly head.
I want to tell you how we had to threatened to have Dallas Fire and Rescue chop down the door of this club last night, when the occupants inside decide that they were going to lock us out!. Uh, no. You can lock us out of your house, but clubs are required to be open to us for inspection. Some check came up, right before the chopping began and got them to open the door. We opened the door and immediately got a contact high from the smell of reefer that overwhelmed our sensed. When asked why they felt they could lock us out, this one fat bastard, who was high as hell, claimed that they didn’t hear us knocking on the door because they were “Fucking”. Keep in mind there were two chicks and six males in the place, and one of the chicks and one of the guys were brother and sister.
I wanted to tell yawl about the new conflict, which I didn’t even realize was brewing, between me and Sgt. Militant Negro. Sgt. Militant Negro is a trouble maker and I don’t trust his ass. The only reason I talk to him at all is because he and Sgt. Lupe are tight. Last Sunday, because I didn’t feel like keeping up appearances with his dumb ass, he told Sgt. Lupe I was acting funny. So, instead of his grown ass just asking me if something was wrong, which there wasn’t, he send Sgt. Lupe (Can I get you to grown the fuck up). Any, I told her that I wasn’t upset with his ass. He and I are not close enough for me to be thinking about his ass in that matter. I did tell her that I wasn’t happy with something that he did later that morning, but he didn’t know that because our paths hadn’t crossed. Now I tell her this in confidence, because I don’t want to have conflict with Sgt. Militant Negro. See, Sgt. Militant Negro sees me as yours shy, house nigger. He hasn’t said out right, but I know he does, because that is pretty much how all Militant Negroes see anyone black that does not behave like them. However, he will find out that hard way that his Militant ass has nothing on me and we will have a new worthy fallout up in that bitch! Anyway, I find out from one of my female (friends) troops that he came to her with that mess last night and told her that he was going to have to put her on “his list” too. What the fuck! I am assuming that I am on that list, because he’s a punk, bitch. Oh, well. So, long story short. Although I love Sgt. Lupe to death, she doesn’t know how to keep things between her and me, between her and me; so I now have to be careful what shit I tell her.
Whew! Well, that was all of the things I would have touched upon if I’d had access to the internet, but since I didn’t I guess ya’ll we have to do without hearing about them. But I am back now. I will try to catch up with all of you good people’s blogs. I am certain that I missed a lot. Take care and Happy Father’s day to all you dads.
-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.