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I am trying to find out from Spike's where to get posters and shirts. If I am successful I will let you know.
If you were following my girl in her Prius, you would be speeding! Her car get's about 16 mpg on the highway, cause she can't get her foot out of the injectors. The best part is the bitching about all the "assholes" in the fast lane in those slow ass trucks. It's hilarious, I'm not sure this is what other Prius drivers are like, but she thinks she gets great mileage. lol
I am trying to find out from Spike's where to get posters and shirts. If I am successful I will let you know.
6 tons of jailers to handle one crackhead. Is that 1J04 showing up at 1:03 to handle comms?
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6 tons of jailers to handle one crackhead. Is that 1J04 showing up at 1:03 to handle comms?
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Bring the meat!. Like a feeding frenzy ain't it?
. I cannot confirm nor deny ever pulling our own off to get in there and "help".
It's like the poor bastard that brought it on has pockets full of donuts and everybody wants obviously at least 2. lmfao
Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.
Or there was door number two....
And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.
One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.
Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.
The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.
It was a good night!
Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...
Cheers,
Sirhr
Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.
Or there was door number two....
And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.
One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.
Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.
The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.
It was a good night!
Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...
Cheers,
Sirhr
Up at our 'pen... where I took many drunk transports over the years... because they had the detox facility... there were two ways to arrive. One was to be quite, behave and be respectful. In which case, you were processed, given a couple of simple medical checks by the nurse to make sure you weren't in alcohol poisoning or similar jeopardy. Then you were put in a holding cell and given a slice of pizza and some milk or juice and left to sleep it off. In the morning... sobered up and blowing a .000... you got your citation paperwork and got to leave and go home and wait for your court date.
Or there was door number two....
And that opened when you decided you could be all 'nasty and fighty and bitchy; and gangsta. Then out from a door to our right... came three custodians, so to speak. Guards would be another term. 'Screws would be yet another.. All were probably judged too big and strong to be lumberjacks. They would likely break the chainsaws when trying to start them. All over 6'5" All over 300 lbs. All able to lift a small car. All likely to have scored about 40 on their SAT's. But who was counting. They weren't bound for Yale. They would muckle on to said whiney, gangsta perp..... and that was the last we would see of him. About 5 minutes later, we got our leg-irons and cuffs back. And we'd head for home. Transport done.
One classic 'delivery' involved a little Ivy Leaguer whose daddy was someone special. He let us know what his daddy was going to do to us. In addition, he was going to have his "Posse" %$#k my partner and I up if we did not let him go. His posse was apparently very bad. He went to Harvard. Apparently, his Posse must have been studying Renaissance Sculpture and political science. They must have been very tough. He offered us each $5,000... then $500 each... to let him go. If we stopped at an ATM. He'ed get us each $5k. We told him that he just upped his charge form misdemeanour D&D to felony attempted bribery (he was on camera) and were going to charge him. Then he cried for 30 minutes before arriving at the 'pen. and STFU'd.
Of course, as soon as we get through the gates... he got all 'gangsta again (did I mention he was from Greenwich, CT? And a sophomore at Harvard?). He started to fight, refused to cooperate and then he spit on the nurse. Wrong answer.
The lumberjack rejects came out and grabbed onto him. A few seconds later, came the unmistakable sound of a human body hitting a bank of lockers. And one of his shoes came bouncing out the door he had just disappeared through. Then silence. Just silence. We got our 'irons back. And our cuffs. And went home.
It was a good night!
Beef is a good thing at a prison. Noone is there because they jaywalked...
Cheers,
Sirhr
Novels could be written fo sho. But the videos after the fact are money. It's a shame so few will ever enjoy them. Then ya see shit you don't even remember or just how close you got to taking one in the face or nuts. Cray cray.
A friend of mine used to be a booking agent at Santa Rita. He told me a story one time about a CHP officer transporting a drunk who started yelling "999" "999" "999" over and over as he was entring the front gates. He said the CHP car came to a screeching halt inside the cage and the officer jumped out, ripped off his vest and duty belt, threw them in the front of the car and ran around to the right rear door and grabbed their new guest by the foot and swung him out of the car and up against the wall with one swoop.
Hey, I spent four days in Santa Rita jail, in maximum security. This was the old jail, before it was rebuilt. Maybe we crossed paths, but it was 30 years ago...
As a business owner someone tried to steal from me using the legal system. A judge with his head up his ass, liked to push people around, said I was not being cooperative enough in paying the thief. So he sent me to Santa Rita for a long weekend. As I was the only civil prisoner, they had to keep me isolated from the criminals.
I learned a few things, Judges can be assholes and prisoners like to spit in your food. Never trusted judges after that. My attorney said the judge should never have done that, it was way beyond SOP.
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Billy Joe Shaver story about Waylon blowin up a bar
Is it ok to just hangout in the police booking area??? Sounds like it would be entertaining...
Is it ok to just hangout in the police booking area??? Sounds like it would be entertaining...