The Big White Line...

Another night, another bar tab. I have been making myself go out at least once a week.

Now, climb down from your high horse, this is only because recently, I have gone for 2-3 days per week…without seeing the mother fucking SUN, let alone my friends.  I have had the following post written for months.  Actually, if you were in my “Team K” mail distribution list, then this is no news to you, but make sure and bear witness to my awesome photoshop skills and go about the rest of your day (hopefully plotting a revolution…).

That’s another thing, why the fuck would the “tea party” pick “tea party” when

(1) there IS representation, so that’s fucking false and

(2) there are sooooo many cooler ways to describe the cause for which they stand?

For example, I would say “let’s start a REVOLUTION MOTHER FUCKERS” more often than I do…and to more people.  And in the voice that this lady uses at about 4:00 minutes into this video:

There.  That’s how you incite a reaction…shit.

My question:  HOW did none of these people foresee that the most tea-bagging loving mother fucker out there, Mr. Anderson “pick up a bleeding Haitian kid for no goddamm reason except to flex on CNBC--Cooper” would maaaaybe fire off a derogatory term that would then open up a shit storm of ridiculous sexual innuendos?

This term association, literally drowns out any and all positions that they take; and they just end up looking like juvenile and irascible dorks.

I wish I would have been in attendance at that fateful “what’ll we call ourselves” town hall meeting…because I would have been their voice of reason -by laughing my ASS OFF when the idiot who raised his hand suggested it.

I would have laughed almost as hard as when that dude said Guam might tip over or capsize. Seriously.  I don’t care if you have herpes, hepatitis, or type O blood, if you say something stupid, you should be held accountable and publicly ridiculed.  That’s what happens to me, and I don’t get all bent out of shape.  The other night, I forgot the capital of California(I know I knew it once..).  You know what I did?  Went home and fucking studied.  The fear of public ridicule is what really motivates people to learn shit.

Now, on to the juvenile and irascible point of the story:

Bad news: I’ve been hiding this for months.

Good news:  My case was dismissed--so I can now talk about it.

If the outcome would have been different, and considering my temper,  I would venture to say that this blurb would not have taken so long to surface.

So, I can now (5 months later) freely discuss why you should:

1. LIE TO COPS.

2. NEVER help your mother.

Background Info:  My mother was quoted a ridiculous amount of money for a timing belt/water pump replacement in her Jetta.  I have a great shop that I trust downtown that could do the work, but not till the next day, so I forced her to limp to Houston to switch cars, thereby saving her $600+.

My motherfuckingBAD.  dude.

Long story short:  There was traffic on 610 so I went to cut through downtown – this seems out of character, considering how much I HATE BACKTRACKING.  (Even at work I will go UP the stairs and DOWN the elevator, just to avoid re-tracing my steps.) BUT, the fact that I am like a light switch actually outweighs my aversion to backtracking.  I hardly ever get enough sleep, and if I sit still for any prolonged period of time I will passthefuckout.  SO, yada yada, I stopped past the white line.  I know…gay right?  Now, cue HPD’s finest.  I knew I was going to jail the minute I said I had 3 drinks, despite the 5 hour time period…obviously he does not know that I have been conditioning for years…

FFWD:  2 field sobriety tests:  the pen test & one leg stand (which I did in 4 1/2” Gucci heels; whiiiich I hardly ever wear—and have NOW been to jail. Yaay!)

The 3^rd test, I didn’t actually get to do.

Believe it or not, I got in a disagreement with the cop over the instructions.

He told me to go straight but when he said “like this” and demonstrated, he went in an arc.

Now, this is odd, but from running so many reining patterns, where you walk the pattern on foot with the judge; then have to do it from memory on your horse, I always pay attention to the path and my life was kind of on the line..so you can be sure that I was in rare form.

Well, after his demonstration, I asked: “Wait.  Did you want me to go straight or do what you did?”

He said “STRAIGHT,” to which I replied:

Well, don’t you think it’s a little misleading that you demonstrated it differently than you expect me to do it?

I think it’s a valid question.

(by the way -- using the word ‘valid’ to a cop is an epic jail-decider)

As he’s trying to explain that he was just showing me the “side view”… the rest goes like this:

Me: well…I understand that part…I just want to know where to go.

Him: straight.

Me: ”OK. Well that’s easy…I’m sorry.  I was just confused because, when you explained it to me-- you said straight, then when you demonstrated it --you went in a semi-circle.

**picture me MIMING the cop that already hates me*

Result:  He grabs my arm and puts me in handcuffs.

Me: “Wait!  I don’t even get to try!? *

Quiet as a mouse, I wait for him to sit down and get settled…waiting for the perfect opportunity to say:

Well, at least I didn’t get tasered.

Him: *shakes his finger at me in the rear view*  That HUMOR..

Me: Is against the LAAAHWW apparently…

(in my BEST Doc Holiday voice EVER)

For most people, it’s all fun and games UNTIL they’re handcuffed in the back of a cop car.

For me: joke time.

To be continued…

p.s.  There is nothing is more humiliating that being an oft-celebrated alcoholic and getting pulled over for a DWI.  Don’t be a statistic.