I Fought the Law, and All I Got Was a Bucket of KFC
I thought since we were having such a lively discussion about our “Justice System,” I’d repost an experience I had with the Louisville Police some years ago.
The entire Police Persona is based on Fear, as opposed to Respect. You hear all the time, “Respect the Police.” But what they really mean is,
Many years ago, my sister and I were coming home from one of the Malls here in Louisville. As we were approaching a red light, a car in the far right lane cut across in front of us, and then proceeded to cut off traffic in the opposing lanes in order to pull into KFC’s parking lot. (Apparently KFC chicken is so fucking delicious, it’s worth killing people to get a bucket of it).
I laid on my horn as this fat asshole (White dude by the way) comes within inches of ripping the front end of my car off, but to no avail. He had to have some chicken, and Right Fucking Now!
My sister and I sit there for a second, “Holy shit, what a dumb Mother Fucker” etc etc, and then our light turns green, and we move on with our day.
As we approach the next light, a Cop pulls beside us and rolls down his window. I’m assuming he’s going to say, “Hey you okay?” or “We never run out of Assholes do we?” you know something along those lines, but no. He starts cursing at me.
“Don’t you ever use your Fucking horn like that around me again. You got it?”
Needless to say I was a little shocked being a bit loopy from the Adrenaline after our near crash, and now I’m being cursed at by one of “Louisville’s Finest.”
I tried to explain what happened, but he’s not hearing it.
“I don’t give a shit! Don’t you ever fucking beep your horn like that!”
(Before I proceed, I want to explain something. My complexion is a little darker than the Average Cracker’s, and I have Jet Black hair. When this incident occurred it was the Middle of Summer so I was even darker than usual. I also, before my hair filed for divorce, had hair down past my shoulders in a Ponytail, and I had a Goatee. In other words, I didn’t look like a Cracker so much. This comes into play in a few minutes).
Our light turns green, and not knowing what to do, I pull away. Well, apparently Johnny didn’t like that too much, and he swooped in behind me like one of those planes you see engaged in a dogfight. I mean he was inches from my bumper. And…
He turns on his lights and siren.
He’s pulling me over!
My sister and I are in a state of disbelief. First, we are almost killed by a man obviously going through some kind of Chicken withdrawal, and now we’re being pulled over because I had the audacity to beep my horn at said Junkie.
Again, let me reiterate. I beeped my horn at someone. The gadget made specifically for “Blowing” when a dumbshit is about to hit and potentially kill you and your sister.
I was not sitting at the light Chiefin’ a Blunt, or scratching my nose with my Glock 17.
I Beeped my horn, and it was a “Beep” as I only drive Hondas. C#, I believe.
He stops his car 3 0r 4 car lengths behind us, and gets out, but he only comes forward 10 feet before he orders me to,
“Get out of the Car!” (His hand is on his gun).
Despite rumors to the contrary, my experience with Law Enforcement is minimal at best, and I’m fairly scared at this point. This dude is holding his hand on his gun like he’s ready to draw it, and pop a cap in my ass. (The Louisville Police are notorious for having Itchy Trigger Fingers).
I get out. He orders me to “Back up” toward him, and when I get close enough he shoves me against the back of my car. (Remember dear reader, I blew my horn).
“Do you have any guns?” he asks.
“Is this your car?”
“What about drugs, you have any drugs in the car?”
(Oh that ADD addled mind of mine, it wants so badly to answer, but Thank God I’m able to suppress it).
“No sir,” I answer instead of God knows what.
He pushes me again for good measure because my feet moved an inch, and apparently I stepped out of the “Safety Zone.”
“You don’t fucking move, you hear me?”
“So this is your car?”
“No Mother Fucker, this is the car of my latest victim’s. You see, I’m a Serial Killer, and I like to bring my sister along so she can watch me chop off people’s heads, and then Skull Fuck them. If you look in the back seat you’ll see my instruments of Death, but you’ll have to move the 5 Kilos of Smack and the human body parts first.”
(Thank God for Self-Restraint in times of danger)
“Yes sir, this is my car. I have the Registration and Title in my glovebox.”
At this point, my sister, impersonating a complete idiot, gets out of the car. Oh, shit.
He moves quickly to her side of the car, gun ready to come out of holster.
“Get the Fuck back in the car!”
“But Sir, we weren’t doing anything wrong that…”
“Shut the Fuck up and get back in the car or your Ass is going to jail!”
She complies, and we are reprieved for a few more minutes until he finds the Human Heads, and Horse, of course.
“Get your Insurance card, your Registration and your Title.”
I walk to my door and he follows at a strategic angle so he can draw a bead on me if I try anything Flaky.
I hand him my “Papers.”
“Here you go Comrade.”
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“Uh, because you’re a Cock Sucker?”
“You know I could arrest you for being a Public Nuisance?”
“But Sir that car almost…”
“I don’t give a Shit. You don’t ever Fucking beep your horn like that. You understand?”
“Sir, that car almost tore the front…”
“I don’t give a Fuck what that car almost did. Did you hear me? I could lock your ass up right now. Do you want to go to Jail?”
“Oh Please, Please can I? Golly Gee I always wanted to go to the Hoosegow. The thought of getting Ass Raped sounds Sweet. Maybe you could come visit me now and again. You Tiny Cock having Mother Fucker!”
“Alright José, let me see your license.”
“I know you didn’t just call me José. I’m hearing things right? Tell me I’m hearing things Güero. What, you think I’m a Cholo or something Holmes? ¡Puta la huevada huevón! ¡A ponemos chancla, bolillo!”
Now watch this.
“This where you live?”
“You live in the ______?”
¿Si ya sábanas, paquetes hilo?
“Okay, you need to be more careful. There’s no need to lay on your horn like that. Understand?”
“¡chupame la pija, chocho!”
“Okay, have a nice day.”
What the FUCK?!!
I book home because I need to talk to my Mommy. Mommy is friend’s with a Police Captain, and I’m filing a complaint against Needle Dick Mc Copper.
She contacts here friend, who just happens to work at the same Sub-Station as Johnny Mc TinyCock, and this is, in essence, what he tells her;
Your son is lucky it didn’t get worse than it did. It sounds like the Officer was having a bad day, and your son should be grateful he wasn’t arrested or Lord knows what.
If I were him I would not file a complaint as the Offending Officer could easily find out, and then your son might be targeted.
That is what a Fucking Captain of the Fucking Police said!
Don’t file a complaint.
Be grateful you weren’t murked.
He was having a “bad day.”
You could be targeted if you complain.
I know, I know, he’s just one Cop, and hardly is Representative of the entire sample. But you know what? I don’t give a Fuck!
How are we supposed to know? They don’t put little Frowny Faces on their Badges or on the sides of their cars to inform the World,
“Hey Everyone, I’m a complete Fucking Prick, and I’m not very good at my Job! Stay Clear!”
No. All their cars look the same, and so do all the Police Officers. They all wear Uniforms made from old Potato bags, and Blue No. 1, and they all carry Guns.
I couldn’t help wondering,
“What if I was a Cholo? What if I lived Downtown in one of the ‘un-desirable’ neighborhoods? Would I be in jail right now? Or worse?”
In the past several years, the Louisville Police Department (LPD) has been involved in several “Questionable Deaths.”
Michael Newby was shot in the back while fleeing Police, James Taylor was shot while handcuffed, Robert Whitlow shot and killed after SWAT exploded two “flash bang grenades” in his home deafening him so he could not hear their commands, Desmond Rudolf shot 10 times while seated (Unarmed) in his SUV that was crashed into a telephone pole. The suspects were black. In all cases, the Police were either not charged or found “Not Guilty. (There are more cases, at least ten, but I cannot find links for them).
I fully understand the need for Authority. But the line separating Authority Figure and Fucking Tyrant is extremely thin, and that boundary is being pushed from all sides whether it’s by the Police or by our Government.
Respect for Authority does not, nor should it ever, mean Subjugation.
When we tolerate abuses of Power because it only happens to “Them” or to “Criminals” we are spitting in the face of the “Freedom” we supposedly hold so dear. We are also being tremendously naive.
If “it” can happen to “them”, “it” can happen to You.