Here’s a picture of another buddy of mine. He had been honorably discharged from the Army just prior to this photo and was still wearing his army issue glasses when his contact lenses were bothering him. He refers to these as his birth control glasses, and I think you can see why…
I have a friend. I won’t tell you his real name since he’s an executroid at a very prestigous graphics design and marketing firm in a very large US market. For the sake of this blog, I’ll call him “Elvis”.
Anyway, I met John thru his brother whom I met thru “Elvis’” former sis-in-law. John and his wife and me and my wife hit it off like gangbusters.
Not gang-bangers, you pervs. Gangbusters. We got along swimmingly. Any and every time we got together, we had a smashing good time.
Except we didn’t get together very often.
See, “Elvis” and his wife and their circle of friends are townies. My wife and I are most definitely not townies. As a matter of fact, we get nervous just seeing buildings that are either more than four stories high or that have marquees in foreign languages. That’s just who we are.
Not too long after we met (as in a few years), the wife and I decided to start a family, and that led us to the early hermit lifestyle we lead today. “Elvis” and his wife later added a male heir, and that widened the gap further still.
I’m not here to bitch though. We were invited to many many things. “Elvis” would invite us to “Wiener, Wiener, who’s pulling my wiener?”-fest and “How many marshmallows can you fit in your anus?” Days, as well as a variety of other festivals and get-togethers that were held in town.
Sadly, we took a pass.
But now, I feel like it’s time to reach out again and try to rekindle that special bond we shared on that trip to New Orleans back in the late 90’s.
You know, back when the 9th ward was just humid and not full of water, and the mayor hadn’t yet declared the town a “chocolate only City.” A time when you could trust that if you scraped a piece of used gum off of the street, it wasn’t carrying some flood-related disease and, at worst, might just have a little bum urine residue on it. A time where if you were stupid enough to leave your camera in the cab, that cabbie would bring the camera back to you, knowing full well that the loudmouth shitasses from the back seat probably weren’t going to tip him for the effort.
Anyway, in honor of that, I thought I’d post a picture that I stumbled across last night, as well as start a new game called “Come up with great band names.”
“Elvis” (remember, that’s not his real name) and some of his cronies would sit around getting hammered and come up with amusing and horrifying band names like Damp Pants, Freezer Babies, Burns When I Pee and Peckerknats.
(sidenote: on our way to dinner Saturday night, my brother in law’s brother was annoyed by some bugs which he referred to as peckerknats, and I nearly threw up I was laughing so hard).
What I’d like to do is have you, my readers, submit a few names that I hope can not only make the list but help bridge the gap that has grown between us due to time and laziness. See…all I really want is a hug.
Here are a couple to get you started.
Lolipop Turd
Placental Soup
See how this works?
And just to get you properly inspired, here is a picture of “Elvis” at Jazzfest. This one is him getting ready to go on one of his famous Crescent City “dates.” He’d come home with his pockets full of nickels and would only later tell us it was due to his ability to deliver the very difficult sexual combo of the reach-around, pogo pump, around the world, followed by the inverted pile driver. He never said whether he was pitching or catching or when, but there are some things you just don’t want to know.
Here’s a nice shot of the hottest girl we’d seen on Bourbon Street, and we were thrilled that she pulled up her skirt for us…until we got the film back.
Thanks for reading everyone. I’ll be back with more pre-digital camera fun soon.
I have intentionally let “slap the congressional cop-gate” go for a few days to make sure that all the details of the event had been released and that everyone had gotten a chance to speak their mind on the issue to the media.
Now it’s my turn.
I live in Georgia. I used to live in DeKalb county. If I still did, Cynthia McKinney would be my congressperson.
And I would be just as a appalled.
Cynthia McKinney has proven herself time and time again to be possibly the biggest embarrassment in all of Congress. No, she hasn’t gotten away with leaving a drowning girl in a car like uncle Teddy, and she isn’t a former member of the KKK like Robert Byrd, but she’s still compiled quite a body of work as it relates to idiocy and her frequent and often wrongful playing the race card, and this recent episode is no exception.
If you live under a rock or avoid all print, television and internet news, I’ll recap for you:
Congresswoman McKinney was entering a secure area in a part of the Capital or one of its satellite buildings. She had recently gotten a new hairdo and was not wearing her congressional pin (although it’s not uncommon for congresspersons NOT to wear the pin).
She attempted to walk around the metal detector (which is also quite common for congresspersons).
However, the officer on duty didn’t recognize her and asked her to stop. There was a verbal exchange that resulted in McKinney hitting / slapping / smacking the officer.
McKinney immediately release this angry statement to our local news station:
“I have served as a Member of Congress for more than 11 years.
Throughout my tenure in Congress, I seem to evoke memory loss, especially from certain police officers who claim not to be able to recognize my face while I go to work everyday, representing the people of Georgia’s 4th Congressional District.
Washington, DC and local newspapers, as well as authors of books, have carried my “working while black” stories of such encounters on Capitol Hill. In fact, the movie American Blackout candidly captures just such an encounter in one of its more humorous moments when after a two-year hiatus from Congress, a black police officer recognizes me and welcomes me back to Washington, and then just across the street, a few yards away, a white police officer approaches me to ask me what office I am with. In the film I remark, “Some things never change. That’s what Tupac said.”
Sadly, there are only 14 black women Members of Congress. And surely our faces are distinguishable. But why my face is continually unrecognizable can only be answered by these offending police officers. Capitol Hill Police are given face recognition instructions as a part of their official training. Capitol Hill Police are required to recognize, greet, and distinguish Members of Congress as a part of their official role and responsibilities. In fact, according to the US Capitol Police, their mission is to protect and support the Congress in meeting its Constitutional responsibilities. The US Capitol Police mission statement makes no distinction about selective application of its mission depending upon whether a Member of Congress is black, woman, or has a new hairstyle.
But, honestly, this incident is not about wearing a Congressional pin or changing my hairstyle.
It is true that I have changed my hairstyle. It is true that at the time I was not wearing my pin. But many Members of Congress aren’t wearing their pins today. Just in the last hour at least 8 Members of Congress have been spotted speaking from the well of the House without their pins and even more have been seen on the Hill today not wearing their Congressional pin. How many of them were stopped by Capitol Hill Police? Do I have to contact the police every time I change my hairstyle? How do we account for the fact that when I wore my braids every day for 11 years, I still faced this problem, primarily from certain white police officers.
This morning at approximately 8:57 am, I was going to a Budget Committee meeting due to start at 9:00 am. I was rushing to my meeting when a white police officer yelled to me. He approached me, bodyblocked me, physically touching me. I used my arm to get him off of me. I told him not to touch me several times. He asked for my ID and I showed it to him. He then let me go and I proceeded to my meeting and I assume that the Police Officer resumed his duties. I have counseled with the Sergeant-at-Arms and Acting Assistant Chief Thompson several times before and counseled with them again on today’s incident. I offered also to counsel with the offending police officer. I have agreed to try to remember to wear my pin and to notify Capitol Hill police every time I change my hairstyle.
My father was a police officer. After the tragedies on September 11th, recognizing the strain that we all were under, I wrote a letter to Sergeant-at-Arms Livingood reminding him that police officers were operating under great stress while working long hours. I asked that they be allowed to use their cell phones to contact their families to know that they were alright. No one else did this. But I did. I will not let this or any other incident dampen my resolve to support those whose work is vital and supports us. It is, however, a shame that while I conduct the country’s business, I have to stop and call the police to tell them that I’ve changed my hairstyle so that I’m not harassed at work. “
(I would like to add here that on her website there is now a link to a story about black capital police officers bringing legal action against the Capital Hill PD. The trouble is, the story is from 2003 and is in no way related to her situation).
Shortly after this, McKinney was obviously advised that this was not okay and she issued some bullshit softer statement on her website. The only thing that was germane was that she said she was “sorry the incident happened.”
That prompted my email to her:
“Nice to see that your official statement doesn’t include the fact that you struck the officer, congresswoman. It’s also nice to see that you “deeply regret the incident occurred,” not that you regret striking him or any other acceptance of responsibility.
Regretting that the incident occurred is what you feel after a hurricane hits another city or someone is the victim of a violent crime. But when you yourself are the offending party, the incident didn’t “occur.” You did it.
Very classy. I’m astounded that you continue to win re-election but am relieved that you are not my congressperson. I’m just sorry that you continue to sully the reputation of the office and embarass Georgians every day that you’re in office.
Maybe the 7th time will be the charm.”
(Note: I have received no response, nor do I expect to).
But then, after more irrational people became involved (like Harry Belafonte and Danny Glover), Miss Cymphia (thanks Larry Wachs) released another angry statement, saying (among other things) that this was nothing more than racial profiling and that she was only treated this way because she was a black female congressperson. Oddly, neither she nor her lawyers will answer the simple question of whether or not she struck the officer, which it’s most painfully obvious that she did.
After having time to reflect and gather my thoughts, I have a few things to say.
1) The number one rule of dealing with law enforcement, no matter who you are or who you THINK you are, is to obey every word the officer says to you. Period. End of story. If you feel wronged, bring it up in court. You never ever disobey the police, and since your daddy Billy was a cop, you above all should know this.
2) Don’t ever ever EVER lay your hand on a police officer. Not at night in a bank parking lot or on the side of the road, and not at a security checkpoint in the nation’s capitol. If what you say happened actually happened, there would be several if not dozens of witnesses coming forward on your behalf to speak of how you were egregiously wronged. Funny…I wonder why that isn’t happening.
3) Quit with the race card already. You play it like poor people play the Lottery. If you had simply minded your fucking manners at work last week and followed proper protocol, none of this would have ever happened.
4) Not since the Tawanna Brawley affair (another non-story made up to attract attention to fellow race-pimp Al Sharpton) has someone made so much noise about nothing. Except that this was not nothing since a citizen struck a law enforcement officer. Had that been me, I’d be UNDER the jail right now and facing a list of charges as long as my arm.
5) When embroiled in a big scandal on a national stage, don’t do something stupid like THIS.
It seems that the 5th districts Congressperson was so busy being wronged that she used her office supply money to fly Isaac Hayes in for a building dedication and to pay for his hotel room.
Wonder if she thinks THAT story is racist too?
Anyway, I’m glad the Capitol Hill PD have investigated and are filing charges. I only hope the cop (and his union) have the stones to stand up to this race pimp / bully and take her the distance.
Then I hope she is tried, convicted, and sentence for what she is:
A petty and common criminal.
And finally, I hope that the citizens of Georgia’s fifth district somehow come to their senses and vote this bigot out of office like they did when they elected Denise Majette. Although I doubt that will happen. The folks in her district (at least the voting majority) seem content to simply have a cartoon as a congressperson rather than an actual advocate.
Serves you all right.
What say you?