Here’s a post just to be posting.
So that guy walked across the grand canyon on a two inch cable. Did you see that? I watched it with my daughter and we enjoyed the spectacle. It took some huge balls and apparently some assistance from Jesus, but he did it.
Then there was a show right after it that involved the Discover Channel dumping a man and a woman in a Costa Rican jungle for 21 days butt naked. “Who watches this crap?” I asked myself! After watching the entire show in spite of the fact that I wanted to go to bed, I had my answer. Spoiler alert, they made it out alive by eating a turtle and a snake and drinking river water. I’m sure there are native people out there in jungles who do that stuff everyday, but when white Americans have to live like that for 21 days, it’s entertainment.
A few of you have inquired about how my fitness or weight loss program is going and, bless your hearts, I appreciate you asking. Unfortunately, “I’m going to start that program on Monday” has been my answer for several weeks now. So again, for those of you who’ve recently asked, I plan to start it next Monday for real.
The BMI says that I’m too heavy for my height, so I’ve been trying different things to make myself taller so my current weight would be ok. So far, I’ve had no success with this plan and I’m beginning to realize that losing the weight is probably the best way to go. The good news is that I haven’t gained any additional weight, so that’s something to be proud of, right?
The other day at a graduation for a relative, I was hanging out in the pisser with my four-year-old while he was taking a leak.
So here’s a semi-serious question.
Is it strange that my four-year old son pees sitting down and then wipes his business when he’s finished? I seem to remember as a kid that I’d always pee standing up, even at home. In his defense, he learned it from me. I pee sitting down at home even though I stand up to do it everywhere else.
That’s TMI, but you pee sitting down, Don?
Yes! I’m a man of average to above average height, so when I pee standing up, the water and piss splash all over the rim and the floor of the bathroom. That’s fucking disgusting when you have babies crawling around. That’s disgusting even if you don’t have little ones crawling about. Why create an extra mess where it can so easily be avoided? Plus, I much prefer sitting whilst doing most any activity and it gives me a few minutes to catch up on Ruzzle and WWF matches. Still, if people think I’m turning him into a Nancy boy, then I don’t mind standing him up now that I think he can reach where he needs to be to hit the target.
Here’s another character I met while policing, since many of you enjoy such tales.
I was reading through some old correspondence and came across a name I hadn’t seen in a couple of years. It was a message about one of my regular homeless folks. His name was Randy P. I’ll call him Randy though.
Randy is dead now.
Randy was an alcoholic and he was one of those people who didn’t want anybody’s help. He was fairly young when he died, 47 by my math.
Randy drove first responders crazy because we got many, many calls from people about his behavior. He hung out in a very populated neighborhood with a mix of renters and homeowners. It was a decent area with a fairly low crime rate, especially for violent crime. There is a church that feeds and shelters homeless people, so they’re always nearby. Randy didn’t care for any shelters. Randy slept in Aboussie Park in St. Louis. Its claim to fame is that it’s the smallest park in all of St. Louis. It is pretty tiny and is situated alongside a major interstate to the west and a row of houses to the east.
Randy wasn’t violent as a general rule, but if I’d spoken to him 400 times, he was completely sober maybe three or four of those times. I think he said he had a daughter and possibly an ex-wife. He suffered from seizures very regularly. That’s what most of our calls on him were about. EMS would show up and say “Randy, I should have known it was you!” They’d take him to a hospital where he’d get some new meds, he’d be released, run out of medicine, have another seizure, and the cycle would repeat itself. Randy mostly minded his own business and police officers appreciate people who mind their own business.
One night, my partner and I were nearing the end of our shift when we noticed a Dodge Durango with a broken window nearby. The windows were tinted so we couldn’t see too well inside the car.
Well, it turned out that the car was stolen so we just followed it around for a little bit, no lights on or anything. It drove very slow down a few streets and then into an alley where it stopped for a moment. Nobody got out and the car continued on. We’re not really at liberty to chase cars just for being stolen, and turning on the lights may have caused the driver to take off dangerously, so we continued to follow it while discussing what we were going to do. Well, the car turned into a gas station and all four doors opened while nearly simultaneously, four homeless guys staggered from the car and collapsed onto the parking lot. They were all too drunk to stand up. Were it not for the fact that the car was stolen and the driver was apparently driving drunk, the scene would have been hilarious.
Randy was a passenger in the car.
They all reeked of booze and piss and vomit and whatever else it was that they rolled around in and I felt bad for whoever owned this car and was going to get it back because that stank wasn’t going to be removed without a fight.
I saw Randy a few months later and it was one of the few times he didn’t appear to be drunk, even a little bit. He had no recollection of the night in the stolen Durango and about being a total douche about being arrested (I forgot to mention he acted like a total douche that night). He apologized and we laughed about it, because what more can you do but laugh about such things?
We talked about his seizures and about what a frequent flyer he was with EMS. He was always passing out or having seizures at the worst possible times, it seemed like when we were at our busiest and didn’t have time to deal with another of his episodes. I remember telling him that when he finally did die, it was no doubt going to be in fantastic fashion and disrupt something horrendously.
That something turned out to be traffic on I-55.
Before I tell how Randy died, there was this typical Randy tale as well. Randy somehow ended up in the county one evening (out of my jurisdiction) and was sleeping in a dumpster when the trash man came by to empty the dumpster of all it’s trash, including Randy. I don’t know how, but somehow the driver heard Randy screaming and stopped the machine before killing Randy. He may have broken a bone in his arm or leg, I don’t recall, but he seemed to have nine lives.
Having survived the dumpster scare, Randy was back in the City doing his thing. A clerk from the Shell station said that she had sold Randy 5 tall boy cans of beer, including a Keystone Light and that he appeared to be in good spirits.
Shortly thereafter, there was a dead man found on the highway, not too far from a bunch of personal effects, including an empty can of Keystone Light.
The first driver said that he thought something fell of the overpass and then he hit it. The second driver to hit Randy drove over his body after the first car had already struck it.
His luck had run out.
My partner the night of the Durango fiasco was working when Randy was killed; I was not. We didn’t work in the same area anymore. I vaguely recall him telling me that Randy was struck so hard that his heart was many yards down the highway from the rest of his body. I felt bad that Randy had finally succumbed to his hard lifestyle.
It appears he was drunk and wandered onto the highway for who knows what reason.
My former partner has never called me to tell me that anyone else we knew in common was dead, but he did for Randy because he was one of our regulars, and in some perverse way, we liked him.