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Retards, Hookers and Society September 30, 2009

Posted by Who? in News, Politics, religion.
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1 comment so far

There have been a lot of stories in the news lately re: prostitution – Everett coffee stand bust, Lakewood coffee stand bust, etc.  The latest out of Lakewood troubles me though.  Seems that the girls are sharing trade secrets and playing a crafty entrapment card; ie “If you’re not a cop, touch my tra-la-la.   Article here.

And here is the troubling part, the Assistant PoChi is asking the Council for a new ordinance that would allow officers to arrest/cite women for prostitution/soliciting sex for asking that question.  This is a problem.  Generally it is not a sound policy to arrest, cite and try a citizen/hooker for a crime that they have not committed.   As much as it may be a prereq, the statement above is not soliciting sex for money.

One of my professors used to say that “hard cases make bad law” and this is a perfect example.  Should we keep pretending that arresting women for prostitution works?  Or should we reevaluate our strategy?

Furthermore…we need to back this train way back up…do we want cops requesting changes to laws?  In theory, citizens elect representatives to make those kinds of decisions for them.  Cops proposing laws is backwards.  They take an oath to uphold the law not to influence or create the law.  Now that I think about it, this issue is just as big, if not bigger, than the prostitution element.

I wonder if people will ever figure these kinds of issues out.  Prosti, weed, assisted-suicide…We should have the right to regulated choices as long as they don’t hurt other people.

You know what is really retarded about the current approach towards prostitution?  It creates a downward spiral and ultimately promotes it.  When a woman gets charged with or convicted of prostitution, that shows up on her record.  If she wanted to try to change her life and get a 9-5  job, she has to explain that.  Think about how hard it would be for a woman in that socio-economic position to overcome the shame and then explain that in an interview – I think there is a movie with Charlize Theron that plays out that scenario.  The current model pushes them to society’s margin where drugs, pimps, crime and violence reign supreme and hold them prisoner.  Citing women for prostitution does nothing to fix the underlying problem.

Legalize. Regulate. Tax.

I’m tired of ranting about retardation.

Update 10/7/09- The City Council passed the change with a 6-0 vote and acknowledged that they are in “uncharted territory”.  The article includes more of the details (they need circumstantial evidence as well) which is good but I’m still not sure how I feel about this.


Random Quotes September 22, 2009

Posted by Who? in 1356.
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Anyway, no drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society.  If we’re looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn’t test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power.  ~P.J. O’Rourke

Before we work on artificial intelligence why don’t we do something about natural stupidity?  ~Steve Polyak

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.  ~Albert Einstein

It is impossible to defeat an ignorant man in argument.  ~William G. McAdoo

The trouble ain’t that there is too many fools, but that the lightning ain’t distributed right.  ~Mark Twain

And my all time favorite-

The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.  ~Bertrand Russell

IDMS – Part Trois September 16, 2009

Posted by Who? in 1356.

A 40-year-old white dude didn’t like the answer he got when a Kapowsin bartender refused to serve him more alcohol.  How this guy made it to 40 is a wonder in itself.

As he walked out of the Kapowsin Tavern on Saturday, he pulled a loaded gun and pointed it at the bartender. A witness threw a pool ball, hitting the man right in the back of the head. Yes really.

In addition to a splitting headache, the man now faces a bevy of charges including one count of second-degree assault, one count of damaging private property (he chipped the pool ball with his skull) and one count of being a fucking idiot. Kevin J. Valentine was charged Tuesday.

An employee at Kapowsin Tavern told Pierce County sheriff’s deputies she refused to serve Valentine more alcohol because he was already drunk and didn’t say please. Valentine got upset and proceeded to act out a scene from Tombstone.

“He threw a glass into a cooler located behind the bar and fell off his stool,” charging documents state.  The defendant’s attorney has a different story.  “This is all a misunderstanding.  My client was simply helping the bar staff clean up.  He gently lofted his glass over the bar and then was tripped up by the poorly maintained seating device.  Whether or not my client may have had anything to drink that night is not really important.  The bottom line is that I’m a liar, my client was tanked and we’ll beat this on a technicality.”

Valentine had started to walk out but stopped at the door, his good sense getting the better of him,  and pulled a gun from his waistband which he then pointed at the employee.

A witness told deputies he saw Valentine pull the gun and then clocked him with the 12 ball.  The witness preferred not to give his name to The News Tribune but said it rhymed with Mrandy Bhronson.  “It was getting pretty late and we had some people playing darts with no one covering the juke box.” Bhronson said,  “The bartender called for help but I don’t really know that pitch so I shook it off and went for the junk.  Batters really have a hard time seeing that pitch, especially when they’re not looking.”

When deputies arrived, Valentine was lying on the ground in front of the bar, bleeding.  Like a bitch.

“Defendant claimed he had been shot in the head,” charging documents state. “He was slurring his words, reeked of alcohol and had very red watery eyes. He was obviously intoxicated.”

“Erroneous!  Erroneous on all counts!  My client, a dedicated family man and IAM union representative, has a speech impediment, wears Jack Daniels for cologne because the ladies love it AND has horrible allergies.  These all clearly explain what officers so racistly interpretted as “being” “intoxicated”.  What does “being” “intoxicated” really mean anyways?  I think the real question here is, who shot my client in the head.”

Article here.

New Term: Buffalo Catcher September 15, 2009

Posted by Who? in 1356.
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Gather round, for I have created a new term. It is the latest term created by yours truly. You may or may not recall- PAFR or people are fucking retarded (rhymes with laugher (yes I’m aware that laugher is not a word(and yes I’m aware of that it might not make sense to use a non-existent word as a frame of reference))). The new, and wildly improved, addition is buffalo catcher. As in “what a buffalo catcher”.

It is an American Indian term that stretches back to the earliest times and is strangely tied to the long lasting success of their culture and society. The story of its origins goes something like this…

Once upon a time in an undiscovered land far, far away… Well it wasn’t actually that far and it was already occupied, but that is neither here nor there. (Back in ’97 near Sumner Tapps Hwy just doesn’t have the same ring…)

The people of this land lived in relative peace and in harmony with nature- Eden, Shangri-la, Heaven on Earth. A veritable utopia filled with bountiful cornucopias, if I might be so bold. A good life indeud- food aplenty, no traffic, no shitty reality tv and…no (EDIT). Life was gooooo-ooood (said like Cousin Eddy from Christmas Vacation circa 1981.)

These “primitive” people flourished and thrived in a land that “only the bravest of pioneers could survive in”. But wait a tick young Billy might protest, how could they be pioneers if they just moved into an area that Native Americans had occupied for many moons(that means long ass time)? Doesn’t that make them more like over-active squatters? Thieves? Trespassers?

But little Billy needs to shut up because winners write history and we gave them casinos and let em fish with nets so shits kosher. Anyways, back to the story. Twas 1997, and like 126 days before Christmas, when Lewis and Clark first set out to cross “the Lake Tapps”- they came upon a tribe hunting buffalo just outside Sumner in the strangest of ways.

This region was once home to an egregiously large buffalo herd; the only remaining remnants of which are the two buffalo housed in their native habitat where the old putt putt place used to be by the pawn shop. Lewis and C-dizzle, as his friends called him, were amazed by the Indians and their society. They watched in awe as the entire tribe participated in the buffalo hunt. These two crackers had never witnessed the hunting technique being employed by the wild savages. Lewis was all like ” I do say old chap, this technique is strange and erotic. Shiver me timbers.” And Clark texted him back on myspace and was all like “ur a fag ttyl”.

Lewis, being the ever inquisitive bastard he was, approached the chief and asked him, “How it worked”. This worked to Lewis’s benefit as he unknowingly greeted the mighty chief with the traditional Indian greeting.

The gregarious chief proceeded to explain their gentle and subtle hunting technique. Members of the tribe would spread out and form a half circle around the herd. Then, upon a wild shriek from the hunt leader, everyone would begin making a greate (historically accurate spelling) and terrible sound while charging the herd and lighting fires. The half circle formation funneled the herd towards a cliff and,ultimately… (pause for effect) their death (organ music from Casio 8915 Electronic Keyboard- overspent and had to trim the budget). They walked to the edge of the cliff and spied upon the floor 1,000 feet below.

Lewis got scared, cuz he’s a fag, and Clark was like “jesus christ!”. And the chief laughed and was like ” Who?”

The chief continued, “Yah shitz (he said it with a z) pretty cool to watch a buffalo drop from a thousand foot cliff”. He lol’d.

The herd was fast approaching.

Just as Lewis stepped back from the precipice he stopped- was that a person running around at the bottom with something on his right hand. He strained to listen and swore he heard “I’m ready der da der”.

“Chief! Chief! There’s someone down there.” Lewis exclaimed with a lisp.

“Calm down fancy pants. (His pants were quite fancy and this was a compliment at the time) I know. He is supposed to be there.”

“What!? What do you mean? We’ve got to stop the herd.”

“How do you propose to do that Einstein? Just chillax, it is his time to fulfill his purpose.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He is a ri-tard. Like Rainman.”

“What? Are you high?”

“Yes. You’ve never seen Rainman? Movie with Cruise and Hoffman. I have the Laser Disc back at my teepee if you want to borrow it.” He turned, eager to display his vast wealth contained in his movie collection.

Dozens of buffalo hurdled over the cliff. Amongst the raucous and carnage, Lewis swore he heard again “I got it der da der! YEAY!!” just before the deadly rain of buffalo poured down. The rest of the herd diverted and headed along the cliff and headed for the Old Country Buffet (herd is now fat people). All that could be seen was a pile of dead buffalo and a baseball glove sticking out. (Author note: I realize that a baseball glove might be hard to distinguish from 1,000 feet above, but I’m driving this choo-choo train so just go with it or get out of the kitchen.)

Lewis dropped to the ground, wept and shouted at the Chief. “Why?” Clark was confused but more than that, he disappointed by his flaming friend, “Dude, seriously? I thought we said no crying”. But Clark knew with a name like Merriweather, you had to expect shit like this.

The Chief sighed and explained. “Your people, The White Bread, are always trying to deny the truths of Mother Earth. Stupid people will eff your society’s sauce and must be dealt with.   If ya know what I’m say-innnnn” Twisting his torso and arms while raising his left knee for emphasis on the last word.

Clark knew, but Lewis wasn’t listening. He sobbed and sang “Like a Candle in the Wind!” while playing an imaginary piano in the dirt.

Clark thought this was harsh but he slowly began to understand the method behind the madness.

The chief went on “Pimpin aint easy but someones got to crack a few eggs if you don’t want idiots fucking up society.”

Clark wanted to point out that the chief was mixing a couple saying that didn’t really fit. He quickly decided against it as he noticed the Chief’s intense, gel-free mohawk and battle hardened tomahawk on his belt next to his beeper. Some things never change and you just don’t correct a man sporting the “double-hawk” (couture in ’97) And besides he knew what the Chief was getting at.

Merriweather Francis Lewis wailed as he brought home the chorus and focused more now on the saxophone (still imaginary), “”YA CANDLE BURNED OUT LONG AGO (sniffle sob sniffle) (much quieter now) but your legend nevva wi-hillllllll”.

The Chief looked and at Lewis and shot a glance to Clark like “Is he serious?”. Clark rolled his eyes, shook his head dismissively and flopped his wrist out towards the Chief.

The Chief nodded. He motioned over the cliff with his thumb and raised his eyebrow as if to say “want to give him a push?”.

“I’m just Frank’n you, Clark.” (Historical note: Indians didn’t have anyone named Josh yet.) This again seemed confused but Clark didn’t say anything (see above: double-hawk rule).

Clark peered over the edge again. The bloody baseball glove seemed to stand out even though it was almost the same color. It was brutal, but like the  Chief had said, pimping truly was not handled with ease.

“I see what you’re saying Chief.”

“When in Rome.” Clark confused, but again, double-hawk.

“Let’s go smoke some grass and sacrifice some virgins,” the Chief suggested. Clark thought this was a dumb ass idea, not the grass part, but again, I really can’t stress this enough, double hawk.

As they walked back to the village, Clark asked “what’s with the guy wearing a baseball glove?”

The Chief chuckled as he picked at his teeth, “You know how retards love baseball. Buffy was all ‘tard in that regard. Hey! That rhymed.” Chief was proud of his sick flow but Clark didn’t seem impressed. Lewis is way the fuck back there and not really a part of the story anymore so it’s not really important if he heard or not.

“Buffy? Like from that shitty show on WB?”

“WB? No, who the fuck watches channel 22? It was his nickname. Everybody called him that.”

“No shit? Same channel for you guys too? Small world.  Clark paused, then said, “What was his name?”

The Chief replied, “He comes from a long line of his kind” Trying the rhyme thing again but this time wasn’t as good and Clark gave him no props. He continued…

“His name was Buffalo Catcher.”

-the end


Lewis and Clark circa 1997. Lewis, the one with the flaming ribbon on his gun, demonstrates his lack of hunting prowess.

Immature Decision-Making Skills Part Deux September 15, 2009

Posted by Who? in 1356.

BALTIMORE (AP) — A Johns Hopkins University student armed with a samurai sword, no seriously, killed a suspected burglar in a garage behind his off-campus home early Tuesday, hours after someone broke in and stole electronics.

Some shocked neighbors said they heard bloodcurdling screams in an area just blocks from the university. Police held the student, a junior chemistry major who turns 21 on Sunday, for several hours causing the amateur ninja to miss his Dungeons and Dragons clan meeting.  He was not charged with any crimes Tuesday, but he was uber-pissed about missing “Clan”.

Around 1:20 a.m., the student heard noises behind the home and noticed a door to the garage was open, Guglielmi said. He grabbed the sword, mounted up (see below) and confronted the intruder — identified by police as Donald D. Rice, 49, an upstanding citizen and noted logician who had just been released from jail.

Rice was crouching beneath a counter trying to blend in (?), police said. The student asked him what he was doing and threatened to call police while basking in the full glory of his samurai ensemble including a black wig complete with a ravishing top knot, flowing robe and some faggy Asian sandals with white socks.  I know, right.

”When he said that, the suspect lunged at him, kind of forced the kid against the wall, and went all Tom Cruise and slashed that fool” Guglielmi said.

Rice’s left hand was nearly severed — Guglielmi described it as ”flopping around and shit” — and he suffered a severe cut to the abdomen, chest, thorax and dome. He died at the scene.  There is some speculation that the cause of death may have actually been shock from getting beat down with a god damn sword in the year of our Lord 2000 and fucking 9.

On Monday, two marbles, a used Chia Pet and a Sega Dreamcast were stolen from the student’s home, which he shares with three other students, but police were not sure whether Rice was responsible, Guglielmi said.

Guglielmi did not know why the student kept a sword, but whole heartedly commended the geek and is thinking about running for mayor on the  “an ancient weapon in every pot” platform.

Rice’s criminal history includes more than two dozen arrests for burglary, breaking and entering, attending a Clay Aiken concert and rabbit theft. According to court records, he was charged in 2007 after he pulled a gun on a police officer, though prosecutors placed those charges on hold because the officer started it.

Rice was convicted in 2008 of unauthorized removal of property (is that like stealing?) and sentenced to 18 months. He was released Saturday from the Baltimore County Detention Center.  Proof positive that the modern penal system does promote rehabilitation.

Michael Hughes, 43, said he was getting ready for a good Dutch Rudder when he heard the screams.

”There was fear in the voice. I could tell someone was scared,” Hughes said. “He was all like ‘I’m gonna cut you sucka! Is that a fucking samurai sword?  No! Shit! Fuck! Gurgle gurgle…”

”You take kids who are paying borrowing $50,000 a year (in tuition, beer money and STD screenings fees) and then put them out in a very dangerous city environment, it’s almost like a clash of civilizations,” he said.  Hence, a fucking Katana.

Susan Boswell, the dean of student life at Hopkins, said in a statement that she was ”relieved to report that the student was not harmed,” but she also advised other students to follow the swordsman’s example.

”If you ever suspect that there is a prowler in your residence or on your property, call 911 only after you run out of your house swinging your sword blindly in the dark,” Boswell said. ”Experts advise that you confront the intruder, while  yelling straight bat-shit crazy so as to confuse your would-be-attackers-come-victims.  Popo’s can’t prevent your shit from getting messed up; they just show up later and push paper.”

Actual article here.

For Immature Decision Making Skills Part Uno <—– click here and scroll down

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