Functionally ReTodded

We’re busy and sometimes this thing has to come last.

Anyway, there are a couple of things to discuss today as I’ve missed chances to comment on pretty big stories and some little ones as well.

First, they should use a paring knife to skin and leave for dead that fucker that kidnapped, tortured, sexually assaulted and killed that little girl in Florida. And surprise of surprises, he was a prior sex offender, and was living unannounced, next door to a family with a little girl.

Thanks government of Florida. You’re so busy disobeying the wishes of an adult citizen who didn’t want to be kept alive that you failed to protect a little girl who very much did want to be alive.

Assholes.

Next up was the Brian Nichols debacle here in Atlanta. A six foot two, 230 pound monster is left alone with a 51 year old five foot one female deputy, and he crushes her skull, kills three people on the way out of the building (as the two video monitors go unwatched because the guys who have that job were fetching breakfast for their boss), he steals a car and drives one floor and leaves on foot while 10,000 law enforcement officers spend 20 hours searching for a car that never left their proximity.

Nichols finds a federal agent, kills him and steals his gun and badge, and goes to Duluth, where he forces his way into a woman’s apartment. She talks to him for seven hours and gets him to peacefully surrender.

And now the agencies that offered rewards for his capture don’t want to pay her? Shit, I don’t care if she was the mother of Brian Nichols’ kids. She did what no one in law enforcement could do. She got him to surrender and not kill anyone else. Fuck every agency that won’t give this woman their piddly part of a pretty piddly reward of sixty grand.

But the coup de gras (times two) occurred this Sunday afternoon around midday and again around 6pm.

I live on a street where there is no outlet. My street feeds three cul-de-sacs. There’s nowhere to go, and certainly nowhere to go fast.

I was outside with my nephews, my daughter, and some neighborhood kids when this douchebag came around the corner and up the hill (after running the stop sign) and raced past my house at well over 45mph. I shouted (as we do at speeders), but he didn’t stop. He did race the engine and spin out thru two full gears leaving my street.

About an hour later, my nephew called from elsewhere in the neighborhood to alert me that the guy was returning and heading my way. I made my way outside and stood on the curb until I saw him make the corner, when I stepped into the street and gestured for him to stop.

I crouched down at his passenger window and said “I hate to have to do this, but could I please ask you a favor?”

His reply: “No.”

me: “Hmmm. I haven’t even asked you anything yet.”
him: “Fine. Go ahead.”
me: I have a two year old and there are many children and pets in this neighborhood, and I’d really appreciate it if you could slow down and not race thru here at such high rates of speed. It’s dangerous and I’d hate for one of the kids to get hurt.”
him: Well, I wish you’d stop throwing footballs in the street, so I guess we’re even.”

(what?)

me: “Well, I’ve asked you nicely to slow down in a no thru street community filled with children and pets. I don’t think it’s too much to ask you to respect the posted speed limit.”
him: tough shit.
me: Then go ahead and fucking do it again, and don’t be shocked when I drill your car with a football.

Then, my brother in law and I went to discuss this with a neighbor whose circle of friends is filled with local policemen.

Him: Get me the tag number, and I can assure you that (cop’s name) will handle it. Hell, last time this type of thing happened to me (cop) found him, removed he and his friends from the car and searched the car bumper to bumper. Haven’t seen him since.

us: Yeah…I think we’ll do that.

So if you’re reading this, asshole owner of a late model metallic blue two door sporty japanese ride like an acura or Mazda, just know that two things are going to happen next time you race by my house. One is that you’re going to get a football in the door and the second is that the local gendarme will be looking for you. Hope you have all of your I’s dotted and your T’s crossed.

Then, later in the day, we are outside again and there are probably 15 people in the yard, driveway, and surrounding yards and we’re throwing the football around when this late model gray VW jetta races down the hill towards us.

My brother in law steps near to it’s path and, as they drive by, he screams into the window for them to slow down.

The car lurches to a stop. Inches forward to turn around at the intersection, does a 180, drives about 20 feet back toward us, and the driver unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car and bows up as big as he can.

My BIL says “you don’t need to race thru here like that.”
The kid: “I wasn’t going that damned fast, and you’ve got no right to touch my fucking car.”
BIL: Are you getting out of your car to fight with me?
kid: returns to car, where we both approach and advise him that he’s breaking the law, that we have his tag number, and his parents might be interested in his behavior.

I am going to get his plate traced and show up at his door and discuss it with his folks. My father taught me that that’s the best way to deal with this type of thing.

I also decided that next time (if there is one) and he gets out of the car, I am going to grab him by the neck, bend him over and literally spank his ass. Then I will offer him a cell phone, and he can either call 911 or his parents and we’d wait until either showed up to discuss it.

I don’t like to be this way, but hell hath no fury like me when someone injures or hurts in any way my daughter or my nephews or any of their friends.

Oh, and Wake Forest and Kansas fucked my bracket to high heaven, so now I’m rooting for Bucknell and UW milwaukee so CBS gets about a 1.0 share.

One last thing, my new favorite driver over the past year or so has been Carl Edwards. This weekend, Carl became the first driver to win both the Busch and Cup races at Atlanta…ever.

I hate Ford and I hate Jack Roush, but Carl Edwards is the face of the future of NASCAR. Join the bandwagon today, cuz it’s filling up fast.