This following sh*t happens all the time supposedly in protection of the public

My taxi was dispatched to the local gestapo (er police) detachment at 2 AM to pick up a woman the government support thugs were releasing from custody. Why were they letting her out at 2 AM on a cold evening without her confiscated sweater? Well, you tell me how that inhumane treatment protects your civic defense.

The woman wanted to be driven to a low-rent motel were she was staying. Along the way she described how she had been treated while in police incarceration – I’ll spare you the disgusting details. But when we got to the motel, she went to the office to get a spare room key – the police had taken hers for the reason to be told now, and not returned it to her. The asshole cops ransacked her room while they had her in lockup and stole everything of any value.

The media bias tries to project an opinion that crack-addicts, street-hookers, bikers and indigents are the dregs of society. WRONG! The true LOW-LIFE sleaze-balls are politicians, police, corporate executives and f*cking lawyers.

At the end of this story I didn’t get paid any fare, but then I seldom do when I pick up a person that the police have assaulted and robbed. I drove her around until she found a place where she could be warm.

F*CK the police! They are all cowardly asshole thieves with yellow stripes down their pant legs instead of their tunic backs. I don’t want official thugs like that committing their crimes against humanity – in my protection and I have not authorized the criminal Nazi government to condone torture and oppression purportedly on all of our behalf – BS.

This one tweaked my interest when I first saw it because I’ve often joked about what might happen if a truly effective system for generating winning numbers for lottery tickets.  If ten thousand people bought into the program and played at the same time then even if they won, each would get only one ten-thousandth of the big prize.

Then I came across this program. A mathematician claims to have discovered a formula that works. And here are the differences that set aside my worries.

* A double money back guarantee!  Even if the formula doesn’t work for you, you’ve still doubled your outlay.  (Presuming that you would’ve spent money on lotto tickets whether you were playing a system or not).

* Works on ANY lottery and results based on where/when the player starts tracking past winning numbers.  There are plenty of different state, regional and national lotto draws.  All the people who have bought the Lotto Black Book program won’t be playing in the same place/time that I am.

What the heck? I’ll give this one a shot and I’ll let you know how it turns out for me. I’ll be spending the cash at the lotto retailer anyways, so I may as well be trying out a system that offers me double my money back.

Subtitle : How do big corporations get so big when they provide such crappy products and service?

My Dad, god rest his soul, was not the world’s greatest handyman.  He tried and to be honest, part of the problem was that he was too much of a spendthrift regarding tools and materials.  I inherited his haphazard handyman skill and my brother received the genes that bring on being overly frugal.  So shortly after my father’s passing away, my brother went into the workshop room and stripped out every tool that might be of any practical use.  My brother left only an assortment of obsolete tools and a badly beat-up old staple tacker.  That is where the staple tacker  saga starts.

Last week, I began cleaning out Dad’s old workshop room in the basement and I tossed the staple tacker into the trash.  Then I had an idea to insulate the ceiling and install new ceiling tiles.  Damn!  I could’ve used that old staple tacker but I remembered tossing it.  And I didn’t have any staples for it either anyways.  So on my way to the store to get tiles and materials, I decide I need to buy a cheap staple tacker too.  I only need a cheap one because it will likely only be used for this one project.

Why are all the building supply stores big chain monstrosities?  Where have all the ones owned by real people gone?  I suppose the answer is that corporations have bribed corrupt politicians into passing dubious legislation that favors the big, bad and ugly.  The decent stores are squeezed out of business, but that is  grist for another post.  This story is just the staple tacker saga.

Without assistance, I pick out the insulation I need and get a carton of ceiling tiles.  Then o go looking for the staple tacker.  The a choice is only between a light-duty Stanley and a heavy-duty Stanley.  I pick the cheap one and select the staples that are long enough for the job.  The staples are also by Stanley and that is a well-known name.  I don’t expect any problems with either – BUT – it turned out the staples weren’t the right ones for that staple tacker.

I returned to the Rona store after finding the light-duty tacker jammed on the staples not designed for it.  While returning the item, I decided to go with the better staple tacker instead.  The bill for my previous purchases hadn’t been as much as I expected.  But I wanted to check that I had the right staples for the heavy-duty staple tacker before buying it and taking it home.  Nope!  The Stanley staples I bough at the Rona store do not fit either of the staple tackers that they stock – AND – the don’t carry the correct staples for those models.  HOW Fricking STUPID is that?

I didn’t purchase either from Rona.  I left the store and went to another supplier where the staples they sold actually matched the staple tackers they carried.  As I was leaving, I examined my receipt and found why the price was so low.  The cashier scanned the carton of 32 tiles but the till only charged me for one tile.  I didn’t go back to get it corrected.  31 free tiles is a fair repayment for my wasted time with mismatched staples and staple tacker.

This saga of the staple tacker needs a better ending and I have one.  As I cleaned up from my handyman job, I found my Dad’s old staple tacker.  I had thrown it in the garbage can but I hadn’t taken the refuse container out for dumping.  LOL!  And the useless staples I had gotten from Rona didn’t fit that one either.

I sent this letter to [concert event omitted]

I just had some words with your power-tripping event manager, who in my opinion, exemplifies how NOT to effectively manage anything. The discussion that one-sidedly blew up into a shouting spree was in regards to pre-arrangements for taxi drop off and pick-up.  Since alcohol is being sold in copious quantities, making arrangements for safe rides home should have received some fore thought.  It obviously didn’t factor into the event: there were no prior instructions or information forwarded to the cab companies; there was no on-site signage indicating where a taxi was to drop off or pick up.  The site manager only wished to cover his poor planning ability and non-existent people skills with a bluster about how none of the cabs were reading his mind and automatically doing what he DIDN’T communicate with them in any constructive way.

If the person representing himself as your on-site manager really was the actual event coordinator, then perhaps you should make a better selection of personnel for next year.

Amazing holes.

1. Kimberley Big Hole – South Africa

Apparently the largest ever hand-dug excavation in the world, this 1097-meter-deep mine yielded over three tons of diamonds before being closed.

.

(Someone dropped in a wedding ring –

and then Kimberly stopped putting out.)

-

2. Glory Hole – Monticello Dam, California

This is the Glory Hole at Monticello Dam, and it’s the largest in the world of this type of spillway, its size enabling it to consume 14,400 cubic feet of water every second. A glory hole is used when a dam is at full capacity and water needs to be drained from the reservoir.

.

(Disappointment for Sex Tourists)

.

-

3 Great Blue Hole, Belize

This incredible geographical phenomenon known as a blue hole is situated 60 miles off the mainland of Belize. There are numerous blue holes around the world but none as stunning as this one.

.

(In case God gives the world an enema.)

.

.

.

-

4 Sinkhole in Guatemala

This photo is of a sinkhole that occurred February 2007 in Guatemala. It swallowed two dozen homes and killed at least three people.

.

(A sign inside the door says – Watch that first step!)

.

.

-

5. This is the famous Rat Hole in Ottawa.

It is capable of swallowing Millions of Tax Payers Money annually, never to be heard from again! It is reputed to contain at least 400 ass”holes”.

The Butthole Palace

Hypnotizing Opens Doors

– Just a few well chosen words, gestures and inflections can make the difference between getting what you want – and loosing out. Click Here Now to Get the Sharpest Edge

Personal opinion on whether or not Dr Phil is really a hermaphrodite.

Dr Phil does have male pattern baldness, which is a function of testosterone production, so that does suggest he is a male. But the subject matter of his shows, his whining voice and his seemly female qualities of empathy and nosing into everyone’s private affairs, suggest an excessive amount of estrogen in his/her (?) system.

Perhaps Dr Phil could a pre-op, post-op or pending operation candidate for gender reassignment surgery? That would beg the question of whether he/she is going from male to female, or from female to male. What do we really know about Dr Phil? Was he/she originally Phillip or Phylis?

I suppose it is entirely possible that Dr Phil is currently genderless or between genders with only half of the reassignment process completed. One set of genitalia has been removed but the replacement set is waiting for the appropriate hormones to fully kick in. Regardless, it was certainly worth a chuckle for me to watch a small portion of his/her show with a the unresolved issue of his/her actual gender in my mind.

So is Dr Phil a Hermaphrodite? If he/she is, then it answers many questions about him/her. It also means that when told to ‘Go F*ck Yourself!’, he and/or she could literally perform that anatomical function.

“One little, two little, three little crack dealers.” Sing this to the tune of the similar nursery rhyme as you drive down an urban street. There are more street corner pushers in business than there are convenience stores. And like any thriving business, the trade depends on location, location, location and visibility. But the police can’t seem to get a handle on the problem or find the dealers. Maybe the law enforcers can’t see over the rims of their coffee cups.

Or is there more? What drug addicted cop wants their supplier out of business?

“four little, five little, six little drug users.” Supposedly, we the people are granting these police officers with authority and equipping them with guns. It should be simple due diligence to ensure the police are not substance impaired when they work. But I said ‘supposedly’ because the police are NOT employed by the people. The police are weapons aimed at keeping the people under the political tyranny of the law power freaks. And for that main task, the political masters want the guard dogs to be as aggressive as possible. So blind eyes are turned and police are NOT subject to random [AND INDEPENDENT] drug testing.

You CAN Hypnotize!

Click Her or Here!

Because we people have neglected to monitor our civil liberties, we are in a substance abusing police state.

“seven little, eight little, nine little substance abusers and ten little corrupt cops.” The ‘rule-of-law’ has long since become the ‘rule-of-money-and-power’. The police have their attentions focused on the highways and intersections where the minor but major revenue generating infractions are. While the mind altering substance problem grows ever larger with police officers standing in cue to get the drugs.

It is said whenever Zeus throws a lightning bolt, he farts from the exertion.

Alright, maybe I’m the one that started that rumor about Zeus farts but I do like to take my bowel movements during lightning storms.

Why? Isn’t that obvious? Then my room-mates don’t know it it is thunder or my farts.

I’m not quite sure why I decided to share this snippet with you. I thought it was a humorous tweet when I started composing this post but I think the chance of a retweet is slender.

Anyway, the rain wasn’t a snippet: it poured here for over two hours. Lightning flashed and the peals of thunder were loud as a lawyers lies, as magnified by a media microphone. I had more than enough time to head for the toilet.

Google is like the Zeus of search and Internet traffic. And when Google farts, everyone smells it. I expect the truly humorous part of this post, maybe worthy of a tweet or a retweet, will be on the sidebar. What snippet of advertising will Google deem appropriate for a post that is optimized for snippit, farts, humorous tweet, lightning storm and bowel movement?

LOL Hey! Does anyone need a good tool softener for a comfortable lightning storm toilet trip?

I received a survey call from a bank

“Do you have a few minutes to complete a customer service survey?”

“Sure.”

“How would you rate XYZ Bank’s customer service – on a one-to-ten scale?”

“That is difficult to answer. As far as walking into a branch to carry out a routine banking task, I suppose it would be a six. But the general banking practices of this and every other bank are heinous crimes against humanity, so in that respect, the customer dis-service on a one-to-ten scale would be about 5000.”

“I marked down a six.”

“Whatever. Next question.”

“How would you rate XYZ Bank’s facility? Was it esthetically pleasing?”

“The building and decorating is fine. Again, I’ll say six. But, the white collar criminal activities of creating phony money out of debt instruments and ensuring that everyday people remain as wage slaves rates 5000 on my one-to-ten scale of moral repugnance.”

“I don’t have a moral repugnance slot on my survey form.”

“Of course not. And honestly, I’m not interested in responding to the queries that you do have.”

“Why not? We value your customer service survey input.”

“Yah right.” I laugh. “Let me express it this way. When a Mafia thug is firing slugs into your belly, does it really matter if he is wearing a nice tie?”

SOCIAL FOOT NOTE: If more of us expressed our dissatisfaction in everyday conversations, then more would realize that they are NOT ALONE in the knowledge that some things are gravely amiss in this world. The white collar criminal profiteers of the banking cartels really need to be called up on the carpet and chastised like the Mafia thugs that they are.

What Ever Happened to Police Professionalism?

Awhile ago I posted an opinion along with a short true story of an encounter I had with a police officer. That cop had a potty mouth and several more police I’ve had minor dealings with have also used language that should’ve had their mouths washed out with soap. Where is police professionalism? Would you expect your dentist to say – “Brush your F*CKING teeth next time!”

I sent an email to the appropriate government department to inform them of how potty mouthed some of their law enforcement personnel were – but I haven’t received any response to share here. I expect that I won’t because government is vulgar as well as being a nest of sticky-fingered thieves. ‘Pay your F*CKING taxes pronto or well send the F*CKING police to break your F*CKING kneecaps!’

Can’t use the ‘gun and handcuffs’ method of getting girls?
<—–< Try Blackbelt Seduction instead.

I’m reminded of a cute story.

A very young girl and underage boyfriend are playing ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ but it is getting fairly close to ‘you rub mine and I’ll rub yours’. Suddenly, the police intervene. The officers send the little boy home and they take the girl to their squad car.

“Do you know what happens to girls who do that?” One cop asks. He is beginning this as a sex education warning (but who knows what foul thoughts the police really have swimming like spermatozoa in their testosterone overdosed brains).

“My older sister told me.” The young girls says in a worried voice. “If the police catch a girl doing that, they take a knife and they cut out her…” The girl isn’t potty mouthed like the police so she doesn’t say one of the many vulgarities used in reference to a female’s gender.

“Then they hang it like a pelt in the police department and every policeman passing it gives it a little tug.” The girl continues. “When the police have tugged it tall enough, they put a uniform on it.”

Once upon a time, police were respected for the necessary job they did. Now though, they are often just thugs with potty mouths and filthy minded rapists in uniforms.