Do Police Get Tested For Drugs and Steroids????

         Gentle Readers,

Forgive the fomatting, as the PC is still vexing us.  Speaking of vexations, many are disturbed by the presence of man-made monsters, one of the most famous of which is Frankenstein’s Monster.  Some people refer to the monster simply as ‘Frankenstein’.  There are a lot of these Franskenteins in the world, the most famous being the United States Government.  We create and enable them and then they rattle the chains, break loose from the stone walls of the government buildings and come create nightmares in our lives.

At one end of the scale we have Bacarat Obama, Disaster in Chief of These United States and on the lower, lower, lowest end of the scale are those we pay to protect ourselves and our property…the police.  Currently, the Obama administration is using these police as a tool of terror and fear as it employs them into the Neverending War we are involved in.  It used to be nice when wars ended. 

It also used to be nice when a police officer was a sign of safety, not a call for fear.  On Youtube, for instance, you have numerous instances of police beating innocent motorists because the civilians have the temerity to film the jackboot thugs in action.  These days, if you buy a gun or a camera, you need to buy both, not one or the other.  If you buy a gun, you need a camera to show the unjust way the police treat you when they try to take it away from you.  If you buy a camera, you need a gun to protect yourself from being beaten by officers wearing uniforms that you paid for.

We pay a lot in taxes, to the fed, to the stores but most disturbingly, to our local governments.  In our instance, we must pay several thousand to the school district, even though we have never spawned a child.  Why do we have to pay for the education of a bunch of little wankers when we had the good sense to ‘keep it in our pants’?  We pay for our trash to be collected and we just has an increase in our water and sewer bills.  So if you pay for the water, the schools, the trash and sewer – why do you have to fork over even more cash to have the township collect all the other checks we send?  We have to pay the police, of course.

Did you ever get pulled over for speeding or some other minor infraction of traffic codes and have some beast with ‘roid rage bark at you through the window, while flexing biceps which are unusually bulging with veins, like those veins in his neck as he screams at you for asking a question.  If you are like us, and have long hair and look like a liberal, it is even worse.

If noise comes from our yard, we are confronted by one of these monsters.  It has not happened for a long time.  If noise comes from another yard and we call the police, the chief tells us that they do not have equipment to measure decibels and so the ordinance is unenforcable.  So we are paying to have laws unenforced.  A judge told us to sue the township but the fear of harrassment stops us.  If a neighbor is persistent in destroying a section of our property and the cops are called in, the focus is not on the neighbor who is trying to build on my property…we get grief because the officer sees long hair and for some reason ‘roid ragers hate that.  Maybe because a lot of them go bald from using the stuff.

This is a bigger issue than our yard and long hair, however.  The drug war, which is the biggest waste of money ever to face a country which cannot balance a budget and even threatens to take Social Sevurity away from senior citizens. allow police to search homes, yards, automobiles, test your breath and your blood.  In all our years of paying taxes, we have never seen a breakdown which shows payments for drug tests on policia.  A lot of them are known to confiscate drugs and keep them for personal use and it is obvious that many of them use steroids in order to be bigger and stronger than the bad guys…they do not realise that the rage induced by the steroids makes them criminal in the cranium.

Office workers, Walmart workers, garbage truck workers, forklift operators…all of these people are subject to random drug testing…what about the police? The dangerous ones with the guns, pepper spray and lots of buddies to help beat on you.  If you pay a tax, you should demand that police be tested for drugs and, specifically, steroids.  Why would anybody be afraid to do this unless they were terrified of the thugs?

We know that not all police are bad.  Our own grandfather was a typical drunken, irish paddy precinct copper.  He used to beat his wife and kids and they did not even have steroids back then.  The thing is…just pay attention the next time you get pulled over or see somebody else in that unfortunate position.  See if the cop is red in the face.  See if the veins in his neck look ready to pop.  See if you can make him chase you by taking his photo.

They had cops like this in Nazi Germany and also in Russia, back when it was the Soviet Union.  Then, America was too good to allow such shit.  Not anymore.  This weekend, when you are on your way to a fun event and notice the ton of cops on the highway, earning overtime while getting high on confiscated pot, think about the fairness of them NOT being tested regularly.

The Bastard Goes Down

Yes, Gentle Readers,

This blog disconnected due to password issues and Hendrick had to have his disconnected cell phone re-attached in order to get a code to sign on to WordPress -our wonderful host!

He pays actual cash so he may write to you.

How humble.

He often brags that he is more humble than Jesus and Jesus does not argue back, so Hendrick ranks high on humility charts… the charts humble people use to compete in humility exercises…that is why he posts so many blogs on manners…

The man is sleeping but has ideas to share and will post at least one tomorrow…

All The Best To All Our Readers For Checking In!!!!!!

We Love You!

One hundred and eight countries read us last year…cannot even name twenty-five. we may have to check those numbers with wordpress…but thank you!

Your Pals,
The LwFTB Staff!!!!

THIS IS A FREE BLOG. IF YOU FIND TYPOS, EAT THEM.

The Ellensburg Other ~ The Air Is Killing Us!

Dateline Ellensburg, WA…

The local newspaper, The Daily Record, reported Thursday that Kittitas County is ‘working to address air quality’ in the area. The headline may as well have read that ‘the county is reckoning on commencing to beginning to start cleaning up the air here’. A smaller caption read ‘State, Local Officials trying to avoid federal involvement.’ At the bottom of the page, it is noted that Ellensburg has been ranked as one of the most polluted areas in the state since 2012.
Holly Myers, spokeswoman for the County Health Department, noted that if the federales send in the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) they will measure pollutants properly, “If it (the EPA) measured for the lower health sensitive level, that would mean industrial permits would go down and it would be costly to business in the area.

A spokesperson for the Washington Department of Ecology, Sue Billings, says that if the EPA came in to fix the air quality ‘it would give Kittitas County a negative image…This kind of thing gets into the AARP and tourist magazines and the community gets a stigma…’

Let us condense the above information into a consumable ‘byte’…Kittitas County and Washington State health officials are ignoring a dangerous health issue for years because they value business over people’s lives.
Considering that all businesses run off the backs of people, taking the side of business on this issue is more than a little irresponsible.

When this writer moved to the county, we first consulted websites which give information to people who are moving or planning vacations, etc. Sperling’s Best Places said (and probably still does) that Ellensburg has air quality that is 98.5% pure!!! The officials are more concerned with glossing over the issue than the risk to community health…

VOTERS, remember names and be sure to vote against those who poison you.

So, what happens next?.…well, this blog gets sent to the AAA, the AARP, Bestplaces.com and all those other sites which trick people into coming here to be poisoned. Then we contact them to see where they got their information (call it lies) as regards the air purity here. We will report our findings.

Up until January 29, 2015, the County did not find it necessary to provide information concerning poor air quality. A particularly nasty day made local headlines on November 20, two days after the center city crematorium filled the two blocks surrounding the public library with noxious fumes. The thermal waves carrying the putrid smell could be seem emanating from the chimney of the funeral parlor – which is located in the center of the most populated area (duh) and in breathing distance of Central Washington University. How many parents are paying to have children come here to absorb carcinogens which may not form cancer cells until years after they graduate?

This kind of hiding from the government is unhealthy. It is as unhealthy as Vantage Highway, where reports of people incapacitated by breathing problems are reported weekly, if not every other day, in the Record. When the writer moved to the Burg, he developed a breathing problem after a month or so. Every morning, he woke feeling fine and, as soon as he opened his windows or stepped outside(into the air), developed a hacking cough that took hours to clear each morning. He stupidly attributed it to ‘hay fever’ and pollen from the world famous Timothy Hay grown here.

Speaking of the hay…it is shipped around the world because it is reckoned to be the best. Do the buyers know that it is steeped in fine particle pollution throughout the entire growing cycle? What does the fine particulate pollution do to the livestock it is fed to, way down the line?

So here in Kittitas, business is more important than people…and they admit it in the newspaper. You have to credit them for that much…but the tourist magazines need to hear about it for any action to occur, it would seem – talk about the Power of the Press!

From The Poetry Corner

Returning Rhymerinos,

This song is not the sort of thing worth putting in our upcoming book of poems but it came out in a burst and so it gets typed anyway.
We hear a lot about bullies in the media today. Thirty years ago it was not so. Fifty years ago, when the world seemed pure because we could not see it, we did not think of bullies. We did not hear reports of third grade students being arrested for threatening classmates.
Fifty years ago we learned to arm ourselves against such people and even our toys suggested killing. Here are a couple of my toys from the 1960s… Once we reached age nine or ten, we replaced these with real knives and rifles.

That really has nothing to do with this song but Michael Hendrick just wanted to show off his toys, as males are prone to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Neighborhood Bully (not to be confused with the Bob Dylan composition, of course)

She’s the neighborhood bully (3X)
I found out today.
She pushes from the left
She pushes from the right
I wish she would fuck off
So I could sleep tonight
Oh, the neighborhood Bully
Always got to have her way.

She don’t know which is East,
Don’t know where is South.
One thing she knows for certain
– how to run her fat old mouth
She the neighborhood bully (3X)
Wearing her welcome out today.

She shaves her head a-baldy
So she has no color hair.
She gets a tan in floodlights
Then bitches about the glare.
She the neighborhood bully (3X)
I just stop and stare.

She always has an alias,
Says she is a cop.
She comes on so damn shrill
She can force your balls to drop.
She the neighborhood bully (3X)
Ball-dropping waste of time.

(Drink 4X cans of Guinness and repeat first verse 3X)

Meanwhile, Back On Sutters Mill Lane…

Faithful Readers,
As today is a celebration of sorts, we look back – as is done at most celebratory times. One year ago today, our intrepid verbalist arrived in Ellensburg to make his home. He left behind Pennsylvania after fifty (‘fifty stinking years’ as he puts it) annums. He enjoys Ellensburg immensely but shudders in disgust when thinking back on his old neighborhood. Shown in the photo above, he had a nice little house there, all hidden in the shrubbery.

The odd thing is, it remained the only house with shrubbery in the neighborhood. When he arrived, no shrubs existed. He planted all of them with the exception of the two unimaginative forsythias on each corner…which did make nice homes for the robins. Now the shrubs have probably all been cut down, thanks to the PA Dutch/nazi german control-issues most inhabitants possess…think Stepford Wives only fat and stupid with poor taste in food.
They hate things that grow. They threw weed killer on his sunflowers. No beauty allowed.

When he built a porch to improve the property, Shiela Septic commented. Shiela and her two Septic parents always had a comment. One reason she could not keep a man for more than two months was largely due to suitors (haha) having to listen to parental wis-dumb through a cloud of smoke. White trash smoke. See, Shiela’s parents visited every day, an odd thing for a woman in her early fifties(they helped her with the down-payment and it thus became their vacation home) and they smoked a lot.
Maybe they are dead now! One can only hope!

Oh! The comment…in her typical daily rage, Shiela went red in the face (she was always red in the face, really) and let forth a pithy insult…”Why don’t you go sit on your porch?” The emphasis placed on the word ‘porch’ spat out in a tone usually reserved for crack houses. The sheer lameness of the insult disappointed him.
Sometimes she would find a man and the parents’ cars would not be seen for a week. Then they would show up and the new boyfriend’s car would disappear, along with the schmuck who saw something in her.

For those unfamiliar with white trash smoke – it is not ommitted solely by caucasians, it is called that because it comes from the cheapo brand of cigarettes that are displayed alongside the lottery machine. White trash love lottery tickets. Mostly anybody with no money loves a lottery ticket. Since we are all caucasians here, white trash is fair game, we reckon!

In his Ellensburg motel room, Hendrick found twenty lottery tickets under the cushion of the kitchenette table, coincidentally.
This sure sign that rooms at the Motel 6 in Ellensburg are never really clean unless guests clean up (yeah, right) after themselves following a stay is an open warning to all. Five months is a long time. The tickets were dated September 1, 2013. Some loser paid $20 to play Room Number 223 twenty times, as if ending up in that room was a good omen. No one lifted the cushion to clean there for five full months before Hendrick entered the room. Remember that, Motel 6-ers!

Yet, somehow, even the Motel 6 was an improvement from the cute little house on Sutters Mill Lane. People were friendly and accepting. The immediate acceptance Hendrick found in the burg amazed him. He likened it to the friendly little towns in upstate New York from whence he came. He loved his property, he just hated the narrow-minded fucks surrounding it. Here we see our hero in Room 223, framed by an example of how he made it a home for seven months. And here is a shot of the wonderful Washington sky from the motel balcony. The sky could not even be seen in Temple, but for the wires, lights and pollution. Let it suffice to say he carries no regrets in leaving…all regret stayed in Temple with the Septics and all the other local dutch folk. Dutch people look friendly on the label of a can of corn but they are mean bastards in real life and if Michael Hendrick could pass on one life lesson, that might be it…

Of course no place is perfect and Ellensburg is not without it’s own supply of dumb assholes. Most of them move here from places like Seattle or other urban centers. They bring their ways…the leased cars, the lack of real property of their own, the tribal sports rituals. They don’t get it. Some of them are ex-police who have PTSD and sleep with all the lights on each night spying on neighbors who’s lives they intend to micro-manage once they get settled. The usual white trash stuff…

In Temple, Hendrick sold his home for $20,000 below the market value and made up the difference on Wall Street by trading in chinese stocks. The rest of the houses took a plunge in value and any money the Septics’ put into the little nightmare they call home is lost. By the time the mortgage is paid off, the house will be worth about forty thousand dollars less than it was when purchased.
Tough, huh? That’s one thing that can happen when you piss off the neighbors…they take your money in ways you cannot control…if you have neighbors like Michael Hendrick, that is…

We do not condone his actions but they do amuse us!

This is a free blog…if you find typos, please live with them.

Regarding Our Contribution to Stony Brook U’s Allen Ginsberg Archive

Last Notes From a Tumbleweed Bastard

Literate Lollygaggers,

We found this by accident today. It was posted by the Stony Brook University Special Collections & University Archives Department on January 14, 2014.
We treasured our correspondence from Ginsberg but rather than sell it posthumously, we decided to donate it to the archive there. Stanford University also has Ginsberg’s correspondence, which they paid him a million dollars for, and we also have some items over there.

If you have Beat items and no one to leave them to in case of untimely death, we can suggest a few nice archives, just send us a note!

Thanks for looking.
We appreciate it as always.

Allen Ginsberg Collection
Manuscript Collection 437

Description

1 postcard (4″ x 6″), two sides, correspondence and poem written by Allen Ginsberg to Mike Hendrick, ca. 1973. 

Donated by Michael Hendrick, 2010.

Processed by Kristen J. Nyitray, Head, Special Collections and University Archives, September 2010. 

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A Little Slice Of Real Life Featuring Alpha Male

Last Notes From a Tumbleweed Bastard

      Loyal Readers,

      As yesterday was National Womans Day,  we present this little slice of life which unfolded one day back around 1980.  It goes to show that, when there is a writer around, even the most insignificant of conversations can be kicked around for years or dug out of the cold grave of memory (or in this case, the notebooks of Your Humble Narrator).

     This involved roommates that once shared domicile with us, back when we could still stand the thought of sharing space with virtual strangers in order to save a buck.  All of us knew each other but not too well.  Becky had the lease, so it was her apartment technically.  Steve was mainly on the mooch and was always trying to convert Becky into a Rainbow Vacuum Cleaner Salesperson – the end of the food chain for jobseekers.

     Let’s look…

     Becky sat…

View original post 289 more words

Michael Hendrick on The Clash – “I Made Joe Strummer Avoid Drugs!”

Worldly Readers,
We miss Joe Strummer. Today we listened to The Clash Live At Shea Stadium and it brought back all those years to the Punk Rock days. Joe’s star still shines bright. He will always be missed by many. He was a good man.
In 1980, the start of the Reagan Era, we bundled up and went to the Sears Store at the mall and stood in line to buy our tickets. That is what you did back then. If you got there early, you got a better seat – it was that simple. We ended up with seats around the seventh row or so…good seats but we must have arrived late since we cannot remember who opened the show.
In the early days of punk, band members made a habit of spitting on the crowd while playing live and the pogoing crowds reciprocated moistly.
Like standing in line, it’s just what you did.
With this in mind and the spirit in our hearts, we set out in the cold last days of February (a crueler month than April, really)to get some drugs for the show. Two things daunted us…Reaganomics and a dry spell, translated ‘no money, no drugs’. As oft happened, we ended up at the door of Crazy Timmy. Crazy Timmy is actually the only person so crazy that we don’t have to change his name here…like Ferd. Timmy had been tossed by the Armed Forces after some schizoid incident involving a stolen tank and a German village.
His Section Eight got him plenty of pills – all the wrong kind. Psyche meds were more primitive in the seventies and eighties. They made you fat and sleepy and depressed. Today we have much-improved meds which give wack-jobs the gumption to initiate a school shooting.
Timmy dispensed a variety of pills that we never saw before. Even Timmy didn’t take them but he had to get the prescriptions filled so he could keep claiming his full GI benefits for being nutzed. So we pocketed the crappy tablets. We went there to see if we could get some pot to smoke before the show, actually, but even Timmy had no reef. He bought an ounce a month with his VA check and then cut it up into thirty bags or thirty one, for each day of the month; then he would smoke his way through them in the first week.
The pills were an afterthought because we thought he may have something abuse-ably fun.
The main thing we recall is the solid front they put up; Strummer out front, writhing around the mic-stand as he sang, Paul Simonon laying down the bass with legs spread in shooting stance, Topper Headon banging away on the skins and Mick Jones up there with Strummer, playing off him.
They launched into the London Calling Tour and they rocked the Casbah. Michael Hendrick, who drove us to the show, launched a handful of lithium, depakote and other odd dopamine blockers directly at Strummer’s head. Strummer clocked them coming from his spot at the edge of the stage. He ducked to stage left without missing a note. Hendrick volleyed a second, smaller batch of meds at Joe, who avoided them by ducking to stage right.
Yes, Dear Friends, he avoided the drugs.
We were there and saw it happen.
A great show!
God Bless Joe Strummer. We are not sure about Michael Hendrick.

This is a free blog. If you find any errors, report them to the authorities.

The Law, Automatic Weapons and Dead Children at Schools

Gentle Readers,

We do not want to muddle the message this time so, simply…

If it were not for police and law enforcement agencies in the USA, there would be no legitimate reason for automatic weapons to appear anywhere except military training installations and at war.
Why do police need automatic weapons? Perhaps to kill more tax-payers more quickly. Do police departments possessing automatic weapons ever engage in fire with criminals, using these weapons? In all towns and cities? Really?

If they were not available here to buy, they could not be used by criminals as justification for the police to own them. Why do we rarely hear automatic weapon fire in news videos of domestic police action? If an officer spends hours a week at a target range, why not shoot a perp with a regular gun? That would takes skill…like the type of skill used to shoot somebody in the leg as opposed to in the back when they run…they DO get paid to train at shooting.

Why do they need automatic weapons…really….(the border police can use hand grenades and landmines…they would be much safer for the nation and we are sure the would enjoy watching the videos).

A grim thought for the weekend and sorry for that…but we thought about this before and lately have been reminded…

All Best, Bloggerinos!

this is a free blog so typos are often found within…

Storage Whores ~ How ‘Sell’-ebrities Devalue Our Treasures

Gentle Readers,
While we enjoy ‘reality tv’s’ foray into the collectibles business, we can’t ignore how they are stealing money from us while we watch them. Reality is now defined by scripted episodes, sort of like professional wrestling only with antiques.
Antiques Roadshow, the premier PBS series on collectibles, presents real opinions by real auction experts who tell real prices on items that any of us may own. We find this to be very interesting and helpful. The once-respectable A&E Network gives us Storage Wars, the once-believable History Channel doles out Pawn Stars (and obviously does not ‘fact check’ stories Rick Harrison tells suckers, er, customers about their soon to be lost valuables) and TruTV, among the most audacious channels, shows Hard Core Pawn.
The premise is the same for all three – somebody makes a mint while somebody else gets screwed. Yes, it sounds like Washington, DC.
Nonetheless, in efforts to lowball the poor stiffs who feed them, items which once held value to us are picked apart, scoffed at, niggled over and usually sold at a huge loss to the poor nitwit who sells it. The other two take place in pawn shops while Storage Wars follows collectors who buy storage bins and sell the priciest items within. If you have watched these shows for a few seasons, you may have noticed that prices are going lower on all the items. Even when figuring out how much an item from storage is worth, a leather jacket will be said to be worth ten dollars. We know damn well they cost more than ten dollars, even used…unless you are very slick and crafty at getting bargains.
On a recent episode (recent to us, anyway) of Pawn Stars, Harrison talked a customer out of a vintage cap gun/holster collection. The seller wanted $250 and ended up taking $65 for the collection of guns and holsters. Last year, we found some old cap gun holsters in out stuff while moving and put them on Ebay, not expecting much. We had three holsters with no guns. One holster had the buckle ripped off and another was missing the gun sheath. We sold them for $350, all together. That was OUR reality!

Do you get the idea?
Our Superman lunchbox with thermos from the sixties used to sell for over $800 to collectors. Thanks to Ebay, the set has fallen to under $500. If anybody finds one on a ‘reality show,’ the reality will be that the price goes down.
Remember…all those idiots on Duck Dynasty grew those beards just for the show!

this is a free blog. as such, expect some typos….
thanks for reading!