Doofus Of The Day #103

Some of our local no-goods have been up to no good lately.

Here's some helpful advice for drug-dealers wanting to help their customers celebrate Senator Obama's victory in the recent Presidential election.

• It's very enterprising of you to decide to cook up a special batch of crystal meth, to sell to people in your area so that they can celebrate the result in high old style (literally). However, it's not such a good idea to use your grandparents' kitchen to do so, while they're out of town visiting family. It's even less of a good idea when you use your grandmother's prized utensils, and leave them charred, blackened and stinking all over the stove.
• Having cooked up your meth, it's not a good idea to ride around town on Saturday night, offering discounted packets of 'Obama Magic' to all and sundry, while being more than a little high on the stuff yourself. This might attract unwelcome attention.
• When said unwelcome attention arrives, you're ill advised to greet the large (Black) policeman coming to your window with the words, "Hey, homey! We won! Us niggaz gonna show Whitey who's boss now! Have a hit on da house, bro!"
• When said large (Black) policeman proceeds to haul you bodily through the open window of your car, growling in dulcet tones that he isn't your **** 'homey', he's not your **** 'bro', he doesn't want your **** 'hit', and you ****'s aren't fit to wipe off the shoes of his Whitey wife, you might begin to get an inkling that things are no longer going according to your plan.
• At this point, it might be considered adding insult to injury for you to loudly complain about the large policeman's treatment of you, and threaten that you're gonna get Obama to take his badge away, just as soon as he's sworn in.
• It's an even worse idea for your homeys to get out of the car (despite the policeman's loud and repeated orders to stay put) and try to wrest you away from him. Policemen have been known to take a dislike to this sort of behavior . . . and when you and your homeys are stoned out of what little minds you have on your own product, you won't be able to do much about that.
• When the three of you are sitting in the back of a couple of police cruisers, bruised, bashed, and handcuffed, it's the crowning error of your evening to lose control of yourself and urinate all over the nice policeman's brand-new, showroom-floor-smelling Crown Victoria.
• Finally, when you appear before the nice judge on Monday morning to apply for bail, and your grandmother shows up, furious at the way you've treated her house and kitchen utensils, and asks the nice judge to "throw your asses in the pokey and keep them there", it really doesn't help your case to insinuate (loudly) that she's an Uncle Tom whitey-loving traitor to the 'niggah race', and Obama would be ashamed of her.
  
• This will lead to your grandmother trying to wrench your hair out by the roots, while kicking your shins and calling you a few names I'm sure she didn't glean from the pages of 'Southern Living'. The judge, the prosecutor, and the nice policemen on either side of the dock will be too busy having hysterics to help you, despite your screams.
• And, no, you won't be making bail today.
  

Ah, the joys of election season . . .



Peter