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.

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.

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.

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.

“One of my daughter’s gerbils was obviously sick last night.”  A woman told me as I drove her to work.  “Then this morning I was awakened by a scream.”

“The gerbil was dead?”

“Yes, but the reason my daughter screamed was that the remaining gerbil had eaten the dead one’s face!”

“Woah!”  My mind evoked an unbidden and unpleasant mental image.  “I didn’t know that gerbils were cannibals.  Was that gerbil’s name Hannibal by any chance?”

In further taxi small talk today, I found that pet rodents, other than just gerbils, will eat the dead ones.  Pigs will also eat another pig that dies.  Yuk!

So this is really a nothing post and I don’t have any deep moral to offer.  But if you’re thinking of getting a cute furry little treadmill running gerbil for a family pet, be prepared for the nightmares and emotional scarring that your child could experience as a result of the cannibalistic nature of these creatures.

“Got her.”  A voice comes over the cab frequency.

“Did someone run away from a fare?”  My customer asks.

“That driver is just continuously annoying.  He always uses expressions like ‘got her/him’ or ‘got her/him home’ as if he is the only taxi driver in the known universe, capable of finding an address and taking a passenger to the destination.”

“It must be annoying to hear it all the time.”  The customer then lowers his voice.  “I’d be tempted to shoot him.”

“If all annoying people were shot, there would not be many left in this world.  Instead, I could put him under hypnosis, so that he finds his own expressions annoying.”

“Shooting would probably be easier.”

“Not really.  A murder involves an exceptional lot of crap that I’d rather not deal with.  Whereas if I simply pre-plan a conversation with him, I can implant the message without anyone being the wiser – and with the radio chatter being much less annoying.”

“Isn’t it hard to slip something like ‘you’re getting very sleepy’ into a casual conversation?”

“With conversation hypnosis, you don’t have to put someone into a hypnotic trance.  I’m certain that without much difficulty, I could slide some anti-annoying hypnotic suggestions into his subliminal mind though a normal conversation and that would be worth more.”

“Turn left at that corner.”  The passenger points as we near his destination.

“I’ll give you a huge tip on the subject of hypnosis.”  I say, putting a tiny bit of extra volume on some of the words.  “The subconscious mind tells you what to do — not the other way around.”

“This ride has been interesting and you deserve an extra large gratuity.”

“How unexpected!”  I smile and accept the bonus money.  “Call me back anytime.”

The passenger leaves my taxi, wondering what inspired his sudden generosity, when he is normally very frugal with his cash.

Click Here to Learn Conversational Hypnosis

This story ACTUALLY happened.  You don’t know how much really good stuff can happen for you when you know the secrets of Conversation Hypnosis.  You can make people you know less annoying and have them doing almost anything that you want them to do – without them realizing that you made them do it.

Even if you don’t use it, know how to  defend against subliminal tactics

I know that many people are  just crappy drivers but this is compounded by some roads that are piss poorly disigned.  I often say that city planners must have ‘done some lines, before drawing the lines’.   For example, a cement median wide enough to build a two-car garage on, stretches for a half a kilometer between the traffic going in opposite directions – then the left hand turn lane is only long enough for five cars!  Okay, maybe the green arrow light cycle is only long enough for five poky cars but left hopeful cars can even get into the lane until long after the arrow is gone – then the left turning people back up the straight going.  Hello!  Why didn’t you use more of the redundant median space to facilitate the heavy flow of left-turning vehicles?

Does a contributor to the mayor’s campaign fund own a curbing company?  Is the policy for hiring city planners ‘nepotism first and qualifications later’?  (The city might consider installing a drug testing program, but the city planning staff may to stoned to manage pissing into bottles).

Click Here to turn your Rags to Riches

Random drug testing might be the answer to solve many problems.  However, the drug testing should start at the political level.  Have the politicians piss into the bottles first.  Maybe then the problems will be cured without having to drug test anyone else.

I picked up a fare at a mall and I had to turn onto a very busy one-way street.

“We might be here awhile.” I said to my passenger, as the traffic was all backed up at a red light.

But when the light turned green, a pickup truck hung back, leaving a wide open spot.

“Awesome!” I said. “Finding a courteous driver in this money town is rare.”

I waved ‘thank you’ to the thoughtful motorist, as I zipped my taxi into the lane in front of him.

‘HONK, HONK, HONK, HONK’ The driver behind voices his extreme displeasure with his horn. It seems he wasn’t being nice. He was just slow and my taking advantage just rubbed his turtle pace into his face.

“Apparently those courteous drivers are still close to extinction.” I joked with my passenger.

Click Here 2 B AMAZED by what Conversational Hypnosis can do 4 U

As a taxi driver, I spend my whole day observing other motorists. Often their middle fingers. It is no wonder that the accident rates are so high. Many people are driving around with a borderline case of road rage. Take this one case for example. I pulled into the pickup truck’s lane but I never slowed him up any more than he was already moving. So why did he honk so vehemently? I personally know why, but I’ll go into that in another post.

I had a witch in my car yesterday. No, this wasn’t just a girl trying out her Halloween costume early. This woman was an actual witch. It’s funny what topics one can get into while in a taxi. We has sat for a spell at a red light and I said in jest that I ‘wished I had the magical power to turn signals to green’. That’s when she confessed to being a witch: one couldn’t have known it from her stylish clothing.

‘Can you,’ I asked the lady who looked more like a lawyer b*tch than a jilted witch, ‘ zip your broomstick over to push the pedestrian walk button?’  She laughed and then we chatted about witches and witchcraft.

“Can you put a spell on my meter to make it run faster?”  I asked.

“That’s a mechanical thing,”  The witch replied.  “You probably just need a screwdriver instead of a witchcraft spell.  I could make you a charm that causes passengers to give you better tips though.”

“Bylaw enforcement would burn me at the stake if I monkey with the meter mechanism.”

“My ex-boyfriend was a policeman.”  She mused.  “I caught him monkeying around with another girl.”

“Did you put a jinx on his monkey business?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”  The uptown-class witch laughed wickedly.

I really tried hard to get the urban witch to tell me what witchcraft spell she actually put onto her ex-boyfriend but she wouldn’t confess it to me.  However, some of the things that she did tell me were impressive.  Then when we got to where the witch was going, I found myself offering the cab ride as free in return for the magic charm she offered regarding extra gratuities.  She must have put a super effective spell on me for that – I don’t give many freebies.

So we’ll see what turns out.  I’ll let you know.  If you have a yearning for some learning about witchcraft, I’ve found a link for you.  Old Witchcraft Spells!  I wonder if I’ll hear a rumor about an ex-boyfriend local cop having come down with a nasty case of genital warts.

I do get bored with talking about the weather, and I even get sick of complaining about the traffic.  Humor is usually a good alternative but there are some taxi humor remarks in some situations that don’t always turn out out so well.

1.  When picking up someone while police / ambulance / fire sirens are heard in the background, don’t say ‘Get in quickly: it’s my taxi they’re chasing‘.

2. When a person of an ultra conservative religious sect notices that your (female/male) cross shift taxi driver’s permit does not match your gender, don’t say ‘That picture was taken before my sex-change operation‘.

3.  If the taxi dispatcher has informed you that you will need to have change for a (large denomination bill), don’t tell the customer that ‘Rumor has it that we’re supposed to drive around until the taxi meter reads (whatever the denomination amount)’.

I’ll post more of these as I think of them, remember them, or blow holes in more conversations.