Nothing much new
happening here, just the same-old same-old--a bit of this, a bat of that, a snip
here, a snap there, toss in a big batch of criminal rocket science, and presto pesto! I give you a Stupid Salad.
Over on the wrong side of the state at Palm Coast, 41-year-old party beast, James Irvine, faced a dilemma—he was a hankering to go out and get dead-dog drunk but with the old lady at work there was no one to watch the couple's ten-month-old baby. Well, for a desperate booze bag like Jim this conundrum was a no brainer. Bingo! Leave the child with his “sweet-natured” and “great with children” pit bull. And so, Jim simply took his much-needed break from the rigors of child-rearing and stepped out for a night of some get-down beer drinking. Somehow, perhaps from an aroused conscience at the bar, Irvine’s wife caught wind of what her soon-to-be-ex husband had done and she called the cops.
Although the baby was found safe and sound in a bedroom, all concerned can be thankful that the pit was not hungry--a flimsy mobile home door would have been no match for a starving hundred pound killing machine.
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Perv Patrol--Up the strand a bit at nearby Venice, a undercover cop (UC) was patrolling the paths and walkways at Caspersen Beach. This area seems to be a magnet for local log floggers and dirty degenerates, in general. Pretty damned quick, sixty-six-year-old deviant, Antoni Kurzydlowski, was arrested for disgusting behavior--for following the UC and fondling and rubbing his miserable self as he did, and for whipping out his tool and bluntly advertising that he was open for business. It is assumed that before he cuffed this dirty old wretch that the UC put on an extra pair of latex gloves. Too damned bad Antoni gave up quietly since I would love to report that he got a good 15-minute tazing for his future consideration. Whatever, after plunking down chump change for his bond ($500), K Man was soon out on the paths and walkways of Venice again, doing what he does best--welcoming visitor and local alike to the sick world of Dr. Depravo.
How much money does this cop make trying to keep such raw sewage off our beaches? Whatever it is, ain't enough. Don't think you could pay me enough dough to go hands on with such scum. Of course, unspoken perks might bend me a bit. If I was allowed to taze in the "groin" and buttocks such gentlemen in 30 second increments for say a total of 10 minutes per customer--even if they surrender peacefully--it might alter my attitude.
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Certifiably Nutz—Seems like there is one of these virtually every day in our local fishwrap. I doubt if even the saucer people Dick is trying to communicate with knows what in hell Dick is talking about
Editor:
Aha! It has been a long time coming. Finally you are exposed. It comes to light after diligent
investigation and painstaking research that you are a member of the infamous fascist
Dunn family. It is very clever of you to
present yourself as a Rankin. Would
anyone be surprised if the boldly courageous unknown writer accused you of
changing your name from Schicklegruber?
Ah, the deceit of it all! The
lulubelles on the left and the right employ the same writing style: They never
let facts impede a good rant.
Dick “Spazzy”
Spazinski, Englewood
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When Bad Cops Go Good—A former Florida policeman from Sweetwater is set to be executed shortly for the deaths of nine individuals back in 1986. Fifty-six-year-old Manny Pardo was convicted back then for meting out street justice to drug dealers. They “have no right to live,” was Pardo’s simple credo as he proceeded to deal out death to the death dealers. Anyone gotta problem with that? Well, I don’t . . . and I do. In theory, I like it. Killing killers works for me, and that is exactly what those peddling poison are, killers. They seem to breed like roaches, seem everywhere here in Florida and the American legal system is poorly equipped to deal with them. In practice, however. . . . once a person takes it unto himself to correct nature’s mistakes a cappella, well, then we all must hope that at some point they don’t see me and you and a boy named Sue as part of the problem, too. And so, I do understand the reasoning. Nevertheless, I think Manny should be released tomorrow from death row and his license should be renewed to hunt these people, with proper legal oversight, of course, until they have “mysteriously disappeared,” or until they are too scared to show their vampire wings again.
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Stupidity in the Newz—A suspicious character, Jim White, was spotted lurking in a high-burglary area of Grove City, just over and down Lemon Bay from us. When he was questioned, Jim tried to throw the cop off his scent by willingly, even eagerly, consenting to a pat down. Supposing his gambit might work, poor Jim’s face was red when the officer did frisk him, then popped some illegal pills from a pants pockets. Uh oh, fall-back position #2 . . . time for Plan B.
“Oh, wait,” protested White, “these aren’t my pants!” Okaaaaay. . . .
Meanwhile, a
bit further down the coast, at Naples, 18-year-old female, Vida Golac, was arrested for
some sort of retardation and hauled into booking. When a strip search turned up a stash of Mary Jane in the same place where babies are supposed to come from, Vida the Vagina
explained that she had hidden the weed there “for friends.”
Okaaaaay. . . .
Okaaaaay. . . .
Meanwhile, up in old Ohio, other than scream, bleed and die, when Tyller Myers ran a stop sign it was his last illegal act--or any other act, for that matter--that he committed on earth. A big rig flattened Tyller and his pickup like a beer can, or, appropriately, it flattened the two flat as a stop sign. When cops later sorted through the mess they found inside Myer’s truck three stolen stop signs. File this one under “Incredibly Ironic Ways to Go.”
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