I was kicked out of secondary school. Not entirely, but enough that it would ruin any career oppurtuniities I might have in the future.
“Any”? Look, I'm not buying that you wouldn't still make a passable bagman.
Your circumstances suggest something similar, but I thought you might have a clearer insight.
My first 1:1 “Officer Friendly” moment came when I was 14 and some f**** thug, wearing a smarmy kind of hat that a s*** bag would wear, tried to accuse me of shoplifting. I laughed at him and his face turned beet-red like he was going to explode. If he's still alive, I bet that smarty little b**** remembers that moment even better than I do, coz like, it looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. Right there by the side of the road. I was actually concerned for his health! And, I was already concerned for his intelligence considering that he had actually thought that I was going to steal something.
I was far too young to realize that the best thing I could have done would have been to grab for his gun, right there by the side of the road, and remind him that he with statistically likely to be very suicidal—and if he hasn't eaten his own bullet by now, I bet he wishes he had. Hey, f*** you,
dude. Obviously, I know a setup what I see one.
It was several years later before I realized that I had been, essentially, emotionally assaulted by some thug in a stolen police uniform. I bet his friends still on the force today (because of course what other career path would some f******* thug who threatens a minor child with a gun while trying to trick a confession out of one have before him? He's probably coercing a prostitute right now) are really grateful that he created the monster they have on their hands and have made for themselves today.
You ever seen “
True Romance”? That guy at the end, who says, “hey, by the way I never told you I hate cops!” and then sprays the room with machinegun gunfire?
I AM THAT GUY.
Except...
I'm a pacifist. (See above, re: “f*** you,
Buddy.”) (PROT) is
beyond f*****. This goddam s***** n***** is
still calling me every week on the DL trying to get information out of me and I could give a s***. (It's
f****** 2022 and I'm
still getting calls from this f****** n*****. Let that shit sink in.) Every goddam time, I laugh at him and hang up, or he screams at me and hangs up, or we have a delightful conversation and then he disappears for days or weeks and then he comes back all pissed off because something that I told him didn't work out the way he thought it was going to for him—him and his
ilk— and their stupid Special Piggy, Special Shitbag Needs, because surprise; I don't tell him s*** so that he can f*** me over.
I tell him s*** because
he's the only one who calls. (The latest cracker squaw they got from The Office Of Police Defence
won't even give me her email address. Not even to her lingerie drawer; it's a little private joke we have together.) And (PROT) is the only one who calls, because this goddamn shady f****** n***** has his f****** fingers on the f****** control system of the whole f****** global telecommunication system.
No one else calls me, no one else writes me, no one else sends me mail, I don't get s*** or jack except from the same f****** douchebag who supposedly had a goddamn order of sexual protection for 10 f****** years starting all ass f****** year.
Don't let that sink in. Just let it roll off your f****** back because this is the reason why your whole f****** world is coming down around your shoulders— JUSTICE.
Meanwhile, I am untouched, insulated, and inconsolable. F*** the lot of you; f*** you all.
This isn't my goodbye speech, and isn't that too fucking bad for you? My expected day of expected reckoning, previously scheduled at the ninth day of the ninth month at 9:00 a.m., was rescheduled for me (with neither consultation nor discovery) until the 22nd day of the 11th month of the 22nd year after the 2000th.
These f****** chumps have no f****** case, and I'm perfectly happy to sit here alone in my (c|k)unty (c|k)ountry kitchen until these jackals figure out what they need to do: FUCKING SUBMIT TO GODDAM AUTHORITY. At this point they're probably wishing they could find a way to hold a Policeman's Ball and then embezzle the funds to hire me a shyster on the side so at least there would be somebody who could be bribed... but surprise, I don't need to have an of this over in a hurry.
It's a complete and total shitsplat carnival three ring circus shitshow, and here it is drawing nigh on 11 months later, and I plan on just getting and staying drunk, playing Dark Souls IV the entire time.
Any questions? Just ask me directly; I don't have an attorney, that chode h*** on TV just pretends to be one while she sweeps everything under the rug. Maybe she needs a better
broom to go with her
robes and
slammy stick.
