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You going to be out on the playground tomorrow? August 29, 2007

Posted by Glen in Uncategorized.
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    I used to work at an auto parts warehouse that was I believe in maybe 32 states. I met some good friends including a very good one that made a very dramatic impact on my life and will never be forgotten.

   We used to all “cut up” on the company email system and of course upper management was always on our case about being more serious and the yada yada sorts. But for the most part we always had fun on it.

   The way our system was it would be the managers working one saturday and the assistants the next. Me and several others were all assistants and like I said we had a blast. Keep in mind this is when many homes had no computers at home and long distance phone calls were premium priced to say the least. So us having fun online with the by today’s standards email system was a blast.

    What also made these “monkey shines” so funny was the fact we all had alias names. There were names like Misdirection, Peeweecaso, Oompaloompa, Mooseman, Crusty, Roach, and some clown by the name “The Parts Cowboy” it seemed as if he and “mooseman” always had some kind of ongoing battle all that it be in fun of course.

   I can’t remember all of the little things but some of them would be on mondays “Crusty” would write a very colorful report that went something like this… Last week our reddibrake teams were at it again. We had store 40 going for the gold only to have store 38 give them a major wedgie right before the goal line. Store 35 thought they were going to take store 28 to dinner only to get in the car and smell store 45’s DNA oozing out of store 28’s panties….Ughhh store 28 cheated on poor store 35. We’d all have a laugh, even the upper management, only to later see a note posted something like “now kids this is a work tool, quit playing” but I happen to know who was writing the warnings and he himself told me he truely looked forward to mondays reading the reports.

   I had a good friend of mine call me everyother friday afternoon to ask me if I was going to be working the next day. I’d say “yeah I’ll have my redball jet tennis shoes and dungarees on and meet you at the playground (our codeword for the email system) .

  Working for such a looseknit corporate leveled yet closeknit assistant manager company had its ups and downs. Heres the story of a well known one incident.

  One friday we waited for our paychecks to show up, the Airborne courier came and went without the much sought after important envelope with the “cabbage” in it.

   We called in and asked and their reply was well the traffic was heavy and the driver delivering the paychecks to the airport missed the plane. They payed up the following monday…no problem…. Their patented answer was simple…”sign up for direct deposit and you’ll not be waiting again.

   Taking their advice, I immediately signed up for direct deposit.

 Probably a couple of months later, no money in the bank account on a given friday. A call to california (the home office) “oh well like someone didn’t hit the right button for the federal reserve deposit” I was like “Gag Me With A Bulldozer” ….okay I was emulating a californian for a moment. Again, we were payed on the next business day. But being the guy I am I had to get some kind of retaliation. You know expose my balls to of I’m not going to take it anymore. So being the standup guy I was I sat down at my work computer and penned out what I believe set history for me telling it like it was. You know “I’m the voice of the little man”

  I started out like this……

     Fellow Reddibrake brothers and sisters….

   Once again we all came home last night expecting to find the much deserved steak or porchop on our dinner plate. What we found was boxed macaroni and cheese instead.

   You ask why??? Well we were duped to say the least. The first time we were told the plane took off without our paychecks and second time and the last so far we were told someone forgot to hit the send button…the next time The Dog Will Have Eaten Our Paychecks!!!!

  We need to join together and say no more to these antics.

   Sincerely signed

    The Parts Cowboy..

   AKA Glen Keller

Store 38 Tampa Fl.

  Needless to say the following moments were pretty intense as I received calls from all around the US giving me the proverbial thumbs up.

   Then …”The Call” came…yes it was my District Manager calling me to the proverbial carpet for my actions.

 I remember answering the phone with a “Reddibrake Glen speaking” on the other end of the call was a brief moment of silence…Glen this is Paul, I said yeah? knowing I was about to have my nuts squeezed in the vice he said Glen please don’t write anymore of those emails as I’ve received countless complaints over time for your antics and up till now I had no way of knowing who was behind them. But now I know…I said okay Mr. Yeager.. then all of a sudden quietly he said… “off the record your right and thats the ballsiest thing I think I have witnessed in quite some time. Keep up the work and change your screen name.

    Needless to say…The screen name never changed and I just kept right along being the Virtual Vigilante I had always been.

   I really miss those days……

    

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Blanket Punishments August 27, 2007

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      Growing up being the older brother to 2 youngers and having a twin sister as well as a younger sister, we were all in an 8 year difference in age span.

    With this said we did a lot of things together as youngsters, played ball, worked outside, got into trouble…Did I say get into trouble?? Well sort of….

   My parent’s idea of punishing us as we stuck together on things for the most part, was to “blanket punish” us. Meaning if something happened, (in this case 50 cents being swiped from the ironing board) …you say what? Yes it seems our parents were like the police of today setting up little traps around the house to test our integrity.

   On the missing 50 cents we were all told to stand in the corner till someone confessed. I can honestly say it wasn’t me.

  This case involved more than that though. We lived on a 5 acre farm, our old woven fence wasn’t doing too well at keeping our herd of cows in for the most part. So…my parents bought an electric fence charger and each night my dad and us children were set into manual labor after dinner of stinging new sections of wire as it was needed.

  The deal at this time was we could all get out of the corner as long as we’d go out and help string the wire. The others did, but not me…” I was innocent by gosh” I felt doing that would be like selling out on myself so I made my stand. I told them I didn’t take the money so I will continue my stand in the corner.

     Now this brings up another interesting fact to this story. Our old house was probably built before indoor plumbing came about. So with that said it’s understandable our bathroom was out on the back porch of this old house. one wall of this room housed the transformer for our electric fence system. This baby was topshelf quality. One that would burn a weed in half if it even did as much as touch the wire the salesman at the hardware store told my dad.

  So, back to my corner sentence, I remember telling my mom I needed to go to the bathroom. She said okay but hurry back in here and stand in that corner. I scampered out to the back porch and looked down at the field. I could see my dad and all my brothers and sisters all had a hand on the new wire in some way. My dad was carefully winding the wire around the insulators and my sisters were helping him keep it taught so it would not sag. My brothers had a piece of pipe in their hands that ran through the middle of the spool of wire walking in front of everyone else.

   I thought, one of them out there is responsible for my corner duty. So…thinking like my parents I decided to “blanket punish ” the party responsible for all of this.

   I plugged in the transformer and watched it start warming up. All of a sudden the lights came on and I heard it make a momentary buzzing sound. In a split second I heard the loud screams of 5 people all at once.

  I quickly unplugged the transformer and hurried back in and stood my place in the corner. Waiting for my sure execution to come. I remember trying to be quiet and just laughing away to myself. My mom asked what was wrong with me. I explained I was thinking about something that had taken place that day at school. Her reply was to shut up and stand there making no noise.

  In no time I was several deep with loud noises of those with the charred hands all around me….

  I’ve never had such an ass beating with a belt that felt so good to say the least………

Man’s Best Friend August 27, 2007

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     Many of us have that special best friend. Not a human being mind you, but the one sent from the lord o’ mighty from above to love and that truely loves us unconditionally. Mine’s name is Milton, he’s a short legged jack russell terrier. Yes he can be a hand full at only 14 1/2 pounds. If I could only harness some of his energy on some days…..

   He came to me from a good friend of mine back in Plant City FL. One sunday evening my friend Ray called me and told me he had a person back out on purchasing the little male in his current litter and would I like “dibbs” on him for only $150. I felt my heart race all of a sudden saying yes without considering asking my then wife as she was gone then.

    Upon her arrival home from wherever she was at the time I burst into a million words a minute convincing her our little addition in the coming weeks was going to be just what we were missing around the house. I made all the promises I’d clean up after myself (lord knows I was the one doing it anyways) and that I’d clean my plate every night at the supper table. I was like a little kid i swear.

  The saturday came I could go pick up my “little man” I drove out to Ray’s house made my purchase and put my little one in the box I had taken. On the drive home all I could do is keep looking at my little sleepy boy just napping as I drove along.

   Whenever my now “Ex” arrived home she just smiled and petted him and said she couldn’t believe how small and cute he was. I told her come on lets go get him some neccessities he’d need like a bowl and a collar and such. She insisted he go with us, I said how are we going to go into the grocery store if he’s in the truck. Surely someone would steal him out there. Her response was to put him in her straw purse and he could go inside unnoticed.

    He was so cute as she walked in the store he decided to poke his little head out and look around some. Through the store passerbyers would see him and stop us wanting to pet him and know his name.

     At that point I was not sure of his name just yet, I had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to think of something catchy…all kinds of names popped into my head…Lugnut, nah….too rednecky…Hemi….nah …too trendy and besides I’m not a chrysler fan anyway….Bonecrusher……nah….he’s too small for that one…. Milton…..Milton!!!! thats it!!!!!! yes Milton my lil man that would work….sure nowaday when asked what the cute lil now soon to be 3 year old pooch’s name is I respond proudly “Milton” only to see the usual funny look of “what a nerdy name”    nerdy but he’s my lil nerd and by the way, far from being a nerd.

     Anyone thats ever owned one of these high spirited little terriers can attest thats its a lot like owning a box of ticking time bombs… yes its a lot like that trust me.

    There are times I compare him to a “serial killer” only not a killer but a “serial mess maker” its like somedays I am cleaning up one mess when I walk into another room only to find another one waiting on me to clean up. None the less I’d not take a dollar and a quarter for him. He’s one thing that’ll be mine till the bitter end. When I come home he’s waiting for me all ready to have fun and show his affection.

   He’s been through every move this ol’ boy has made sense migrating from florida. Always ready for a road trip… yes he’s a seasoned traveler for sure.

  You may wonder how the “Ex” came about. Seems one day she decided to trade me in for someone else ( short lived, the grass is always greener on the other side) I let her come back and one day she was upset with Milton…her statement…”Its me or him, one of us has to go” I looked at her, I turned and looked down at “my little man” and then sorrowly looked back at her and said “damn were going to miss you”

  Now go give your pooch a big hug and tell em’ you love em for me….

“Going West” August 25, 2007

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This is the story of the loss of one of my best friends. The first one’s name was officially Robert John Keller II. He was my youngest brother and to this day I can’t think of anyone that did not love him. He was the kind of person that you could get upset at just like anyone else, yet looking at his expressions all the anxiety would fly out the window and a frown would immediatley be replaced by a smile and a laugh. One time he and I were watching an episode of “the Twilight Zone”. We were still quite young, me maybe 18 and he 10ish. This episode featured a ghostly hitchiker that seemed to pop up where ever this woman showed up in town. All he did would stick his thumb out and say “Going West”. For days after that show I’d drive Bobby crazy with those two words. We’d be talking about what ever and I’d stop and stick my thumb out and sorrowly say “Going West” we’d both blurt out into such laughter that it’d make a laughing hyena jealous. Sometimes he’d say something smart back to me like “Giving Head” which we’d once again blurt out into laughter.

    As time would go on, I soon moved out to help my aging Mema take care of my Grand Daddy as he had came down with Alzheimers Disease. With that taking place it kept me from seeing Bobby quite a bit. Over time he grew into a big strong good looking young man. Like myself he suffered living in a small town and the fact of not being around many women as well causing him to be quite shy around them. So just the same as I did, he went to working hard and trying to save money. There were times Bobby would be working 2 jobs. He worked full time across the street from where we grew up building septic tanks and before long was driving their trucks and delivering and help to set them up. He also worked for a man setting up some fruit stands and would do that when the septic tank business was slow.

  I can still remember going to visit him at some of the stands from time to time feeling bad for him having to stay out all night guarding the produce he would be selling at one of the many tents.

   He’d call me and say “Hey Bubba its Bobby” I’d get that same old smile on my face and find out if he was in town. If he was I’d go see him and take him a plate of our Mema’s food for him to enjoy. Upon arriving I’d hold out my thumb and say “going west” which we’d both laugh or sometimes he’d beat me to the punch and say it to me. Either way it was definately a little private joke between us.

   I can still remember several years later..It was February 14,1989. The phone rang I answered and the voice said “Bubba its Bobby” I replied with “boy what are you doing” I had not seen him in a couple of months. He asked me if I was going to be home a while as he had something he needed to come give me and that he wanted to show me something. My response was “cmon”

   20 minutes or so later a silver Ford Ranger 4×4 pulled up in my driveway. It was very nice only a couple of years old. Out of the truck jumped Bobby carrying something in his hands. What he was carrying was a little home made rocking horse.

    He handed me the horse and said happy valentines day to you. I said boy aren’t you supposed to give things on this day to your woman? I said don’t get no ideas that I’m your bitch now…we both laughed at that point. To this day I believe maybe he took it to someone that he was interested in and she may of either not accepted it or hurt his feelings in some way.

   My next question was whose truck are you driving?  His rides up to that point looked similar to the jallopies I had piloted back in the day. His response was “it’s mine” I said no way… he said yup he had just bought it the day before. I was very happy for him, I said “c’mon show it to me” we walked around it for a moment and I said damn boy this is nice. And by all means it was. I walked to the other side and said hey what happened over on this side of it…He quickly walked around to the side I was standing on just to find me with my hand out reached thumb in the wind saying “going west” with a big shit eating grin on my face. He immediately broke into a big grin himself.

   A day or two later I bought and old camaro and had it hauled to my mom’s house to sit till I could get a spot for it on the weekend coming. On saturday February the 18th, Bobby was going to help me pull it to my house with a chain with his brand spankin used ranger. As it turned out he had to work over that day and My dad helped me instead. It didn’t matter to me as long as someone helped.

    Bobby came home from work that night destressed as he wasn’t able to help me.  He was going to come over to the house and talk to me about it to make sure I wasn’t upset, but he also had a group of the boys he grew up with waiting to ride in the ranger with him to the Florida State Fair that was in town at the moment.

    The next morning he and a friend were going to drive the truck out to see my younger brother Tommy who was housed at a minimum security prison on his last leg of work release before being out of prison. Wanting to get there early to show Tommy his newest possesion, Bobby figured he’d stop by afterwards to see how things were and to apologize for not making it to help me tow the car.

    On the way home from there Bobby and his friend Joey driving down a 2 lane state highway. Joey looked up and saw a truck very similiar to Bobby’s in their lane appearing to playing a game of chicken.

   Bobby ws able to stear away and force the offending truck to miss them. Joey told Bobby, “lets go see what his problem is”. In agreeance they turned the truck around and followed pursuit after the offending truck. At this point the truck they were after sped up knowing Bobby and Joey were upset at his actions.

   The person turned down a small side road with Bobby in pursuit. The chase went on for another mile or so and the lead truck could see he was going to get caught.

    The next thing done to this day will get someone’s ass beat if done to me…. He stomped on his brakes…( a brake check) at the speed being gone, Bobby had to either hit the truck or go off the road.

    Not wanting certain destruction to his vehicle, Bobby chose what I am sure 99% of us would and took the going off the road. Joey was ejected, Bobby (wearing a seat belt) was not and went for the full monty of rides..He rolled a time or two with his window on his side landing against a tall pine tree. The blunt trauma brought on death for my poor brother. Joey received injurys, but made it through it okay.

    The boy (read murderer) in the lead truck got out as there was a witness to the accident (a line worker up on a pole) that saw it and told the man that they knew each other and had been drag racing.

   I’m here to tell you, Bobby might of raced you on foot for the last can of skoal or coppenhagen snuff on the shelf. But auto racing was not in his vocabulary, being that Joey lived through all this we got an account of it all.

    The boy that caused it you ask? Nothing happened to him as he lied his way through it and I hear had parents that were pretty fluent in their community. That is for that moment…

  Bobby has a twin sister (like me) his twin’s name is Laura. Laura is quite the oppsite of her late brother. She’s a lot like me sort of high strung “tell it like it is” if you will.

Several months later Laura is at a friend’s graduation party. Theres a boy there she’s never met and he starts mouthing off how he’s so tough, in fact so tough he once killed a man.

   Laura asks wow how did that happen, before long he’s drunkenly telling the story of what he doesn’t know is her brother’s death. At that point she says hang on I need to run to the bathroom. She then calls her older brother Tommy, who is now out of prison.

   Tommy comes over and when he gets there Laura unleashes on this boy how the person he’s talking about is in actuallity her twin brother.

   I’ll leave the rest up to you to on that part to protect the innocent.

   Needless to say when we all get up to the pearly gates, if you see a good looking young man with blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and his arm is stretched out thumb in the air saying “going west” give him a hug and tell him hello…

By the way…I still have that rocking horse on top of my tv this very day.

REST IN PEACE LITTLE BROTHER

  

We can’t always look good August 19, 2007

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   Normally I have a story that might make you laugh at whom I’m writing about. Well today is no different except the “whom” in this story is no different than the young (okay not so young) man looking at his monitor as he’s typing away.

   Back in I believe 1999 I met a girl that became and still is a friend of mine. Yes we have our ups and downs in friendship, but lets face it, if you have a friendship with someone and never see something on a different level of agreeance. Than someone is being a proverbial “yes man”.

    She and I started out as friends with the intentions of going a little further. Well in some aspects we went that little bit further. Over time things didn’t work out for one reason or another.

  

   Were going to call this person “Redneck Sherri” not her real name, but damned close. Her new beau’s was Grady. AKA “Redneck Grady” sorry but this is this chap’s real name and unfortunately I could never think of this guy ever having another name than his real one and to this day I still love my friend to death. He’s a cross between Joe Dirt and the late Jim Varney’s character Ernest.

    The story….. One sunday morning we were riding together, (redneck couple and I) in my blazer. We had been to the local Doughnut shop and had a few doughnuts each…Okay maybe more than a few each…we were mostly all fatasses at best.

    I stopped at the local “tire emporium” to slide my monthly tire payment under the front door. It had been raining for a couple of days and the previous day the tire store had a big sale. On the floor mixed in with the water puddle was some armor all or some other tire dressing and I had spread my legs a little to enable me to bend over a little easier (we fat asses are known for this strategic move you know) well no sooner I did that my feet slowly began to slip apart as the tire dressing was a bit much for my old tennis shoes to grip through.  I didn’t correct this at first thinking I had plenty of time to slide the envelope and be on my merry way. Yeah Right!! I soon found myself in a panic, reminding me of my younger years watching batman and robin. On that show the Dynamic Dual always found themselves about to meet destruction as in the last minute or two of the show you’d hear “same bat time, same bat channel” only to find they got out of whatever or whoever was trying to kill them at the beginning of the secon half of the show.

    So here I am thinking how am I going to stop my feet from slipping too far apart and looking stupid. Meanwhile as I see and feel my legs doing what even some of the best cheerleaders wish they could do, (a complete split) I hear the rednecks chanting ” GO GLENNY GO GLENNY..ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!) these knuckleheads think I’m doing some kind of break dance.

    Finally as I’m sure I had done all the damage I could to my groin area I decide to just fall backward and roll out of it. I guess seeing the pain in my eyes the redneck couple could see it was no stunt but that I was in trouble.

   Back then I was pretty traumatized with the pain and embarassment of it all. Today….Its as funny as hell. I just wish I had caught it on tape so I could go back and laugh at my fat ass.

 Yall be good…

Yet Another True Story or Two August 18, 2007

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      Being I’ve always worked in the auto parts industry since my high school days I’ve been present to see some pretty funny events take place.

     Back home in Tampa Iworked at a “mom and pop” parts store. These people that owned the store were so known for just up and changing policys at the mere drop of a hat. One day I went to lunch only to come back to find a homemade hand printed sign on the wall behind the counter stating 10% restocking charges on all refunds.

   I figured someone had pissed off the old man that owned the place while I was at lunch. I was the “assistant manager” and their son “jr” was the “manager” I flushed more experience down the toilet every time I went to the bathroom than he ever had. (gross sounding but true)

   We had an older fellow walk in one day and buy 2 tail light bulbs. I wrote a ticket and collected the $1 for the sale. He went out to his car tried them, realized it wasn’t the problem and brought them back in for a refund.

   Jr. went over and reached in the drawer and handed the old man 90 cents back. The customer looked at his change handed to him and said “hey it was a dollar” Jr. pointed at their fresh sign and said I’m sorry but we have a restocking charge.

   The old man looked at me and then at Jr, and shook his head and walked away. Going out the front door he stopped and turned and came back in. Jr. said “can I help you” . The old fellow said yeah I’d like to get those bulbs back. Jr. slid them across the counter and said…”that’ll be $1.

   The old man paid for them saying nothing, walked out the front door turned looked at him, and broke the bulbs right there on the door step….”My kind of guy I’d say”

Okay here’s my stand August 17, 2007

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     A friend asked me yesterday if I was prejudiced to Mexicans, my answer was pretty tongue in cheek. Yes I said but not just to them. To all who come to our great country and live here and collect our benefits and do not know how to read, or speak the language. Just as I would not hold it against any other country for being that way towards me if I were to take up homage in their country and expect them to support me. But I go  little further than that so to speak. I feel even if your earning the wages a red blooded american should be earning you should be able to talk the talk.

   When I mention read or write, I realize I am stepping on some backwoods americans, keep in mind on the next paragraph I’m about to rendor here.

  The next rant is about not being able to pass a driver’s test because of “no speaky english”  This past december I was in a DMV office getting my driver’s license, sitting next to me was a foreign fellow and his translator.

   The officer giving the test would read the question in english to the translator, (provided by the foreign dude of course) this translator would in turn say what the question was in spanish, the foreigner would grunt a simple one syllable response reminding me of some cave man movies back when I was a kid. She would then turn to the DMV officer and spout out sentences and sometimes paragraphs all from a simple “ugh ugh” Heres my spin on this whole thing, First of all if were going to give a driver’s license to a non english speaking alien, (for god sake, they need to have one to drive their cars down to the food stamp office…right?) why shouldn’t we have spanish or even bilingual DMV officers. And…who is going to ride with these said non english speaking (or reading) drivers to read the highway warning signs for them? hmmmm I thought about that a little while…So just as I did on another subject back in Tampa,,(more on that in another blog coming soon) I wrote to the Charlotte Observer…My suggestion?  Lets just take all the road signs down or even just terribly misspell the words on them and let everyone drive around blindly…Did it make the paper…not on your life!

Old war stories August 15, 2007

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    At the prompting of a close  friend I’m going to start just writing some things that I guess you could say I was just lucky enough to be present to witness. Some may be downright funny and totally unbelieveable, while others may be like “so, where’s the punch line. All I can say about the “unbelieveable” ones is this…I can usually provide a witness to what I say…there nuff said…

    Here goes,

 I was raised in a small farming town in florida. Plant City to be exact, I moved back home back in 2002 after having gastric bypass surgery to just be with all the fellows I grew up with and went to school with so to say.

  The small farm house I rented was on dead end road that was gravel almost to the end and then turned into a dirt road and made a very sharp left hand turn into my driveway. If you didn’t make the turn you ended up in a galvanized gate leading into an orange grove. And that gate was only a few feet past my driveway. Like maybe 5 feet..you with me so far?

   Anyhow behind my house was a trailer park full of migrant workers…mexican to be exact. I normally don’t hold hard feelings with many folks but I know my rooster “Roscoe” came up missing one day and would bet the farm he was the provider that night on their chicken taco deluxes they were feasting on… Okay on this one I can’t provide a witness, but will call this a hypothesis..Got me?

   On new year’s day 2003 I put up with all their partying or whatever mexicans call it mayby they might refer to “fiestying” I listened all day to their accordian and horn music while I put the engine back together in my ford falcon. I just imagined I was working next to some “gypsy carnival” or something. Well as it was late into the night their music kept playing and after one of those fellows has consumed enough alcohol they start this obnoxious ” yipping” yes “yipping” sounded like the chihuahua dogs someone might of left in their car while in the grocery store shopping. Well let me tell you this…I’m not much for a bunch of yipping…especially being it was 11:30ish and I have to be at work bright and early the next morning. Well after yelling out the back door something like “shut up you bunch of stinking mexicans” I could see I was getting nowhere as hell they don’t speak english so why should i expect they understand it right? My next step was to call down to the local sheriffs office and make a formal verbal complaint. Well that brough sheriff Andy and deputy Barney out, but the “eloffenders” were sharper than the average and saw their headlights and turned off the music and just sat around the campfire and gave their famous I no haba englai answers.. So “the man” got in his car and left. No sooner than tail lights were gone there it was again…Music playing only a monkey on a string waiting for your coins to fill his cup could enjoy started right back up.. I immediately jump up and call Chief Buford Justice back and say “hey what the hell?” The response I got at that moment was “sir we went out there and found no infractions” I said wait a minute hold on!!!! I stuck the receiver out the back door and then took the phone back and asked anyone round here heard any infractions going on? It was mere minutes later when out of the distance I saw 2 small white lights coming down the road. I was like what the hell… It was Andy and Barney outsmarting them backing back down the road and using their back up lights to see. Needless to say they were as delighted as I was to hear the sweet sounds of Freddy Fender played on an accordian… I was like “get em boys its the wolf man” Next thing I know out of a distance I hear a siren and its moving our way quickly… Coming down our little road at what looked like 200 miles per hour, before I could say damn there going to…tup they did right through the gate and tore up a fine orange tree. Man did it jack up that poor police issue crown vic…lol The only thing that looked worse than my tax paid patrol car piled up was the knots on the heads that the mexican fellows receieved afterwards. Have you ever watched Cops and it always seems like they pull over the car with the weapon laying under the seat or a big bag of dope in the trunk? well these mexican fellows all of a sudden had illegal contraband on them as they were being frisked down. The only person I’d say was more busier was maybe the lawman providing the contraband as they searched each one. It seemed like dang he’s clean, and then all of a sudden oops where did that 1 milimeter over the limit pocket knife come from?

  Is this true? You decide…