It’s fair to say that I am a prick. I do and say things that people who grow up in a normal loving environment learn not to do at a young age. I am a rare breed of bullshit. Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be a day I wake up concerned about myself and my well being. I still wake up with the intent to fuck shit up. With this mentality running into trouble with the law is a sure thing. You would imagine my criminal record being about 500 pages long with the way I live, but you will be surprised to know I am one lucky bastard when it comes to the law. I have only been to court 3 times due to awesome house parties, and that just fucking rules. Before I begin I want to express how serious I am about the fact I drunk drive a lot. I know it’s unsafe for myself, I understand I put others lives in danger, and I realize the legality issues it could cause me. GO FUCK YOURSELF IF YOU TRY TO TELL ME ANY OF THAT AFTER READING THIS. I have a conscious and sometimes feel guilty when I wake up not sure of how I got home the night before only to find my car sitting on my front porch, doors wide open, and only one tire on the pavement. In all seriousness I am not interested in anyone trying to smack some sense into me or scolding me for the shit I pull, so don’t even think about it. I’m going to run through my drunken moments rather quickly, so I don’t have to hear everyone’s sob stories about how I should be more considerate of the law.
I started causing trouble at a very young age and making the neighborhood kids feel like pieces of shit was my specialty. The first time a cop was involved though I was in the 5th grade. I had this friend Lucy from school; she had super strict parents and had more money than god. She enjoyed coming over my house because there were very little rules. We had this problem with the fuck tard that lived next door to me, he was this little animal with a twitch who was always riding his bike telling us boys were better than girls, and I have to assume he is gay by now. Anyway we had enough of his garbage and posted up outside of his house armed with a full carton of eggs. Caught in the crossfire happened to be a decent car that now had stripped paint due to my eggs OOPS. That cost my parents a pretty penny. From there I moved on to bigger and better things, in the summer after 6th grade I stole a little boat down the cape and was brought out to the ocean with the tide. I jumped ship and was greeted on shore by the police. Don’t be impressed, it was a tiny little dingy thing that was on its last leg anyway. The owner of the boat didn’t even press charges. In the 8th grade I was spoken to by the police on many occasions. Apparently if you call someone a “vagina”, that is sexual harassment and will result in 2 weeks suspension and a conversation the po-po. Also, according to one of my English teachers and Officer Dip Shit when a girl in your class threatens to kill herself by jumping off the second story staircase at school and you tell her to just get it over with and do it resulting in her breaking her arm, you are an accessory to murder. Who knew?
Through high school I managed to stay out of trouble, mainly because I was more concerned with learning how to drive and finding a sexual partner. After a solid 4 years of good behavior, enjoying sex and driving, I decided I also really liked drinking alcohol. My freshman year of college a friend of mine asked me to take his Ford Lightning for a spin around the block to go pick up this girl I knew. I was approximately 10 beers and half a bottle of Jaeger deep. Long story short I crashed into the only god damn telephone pole on the street. My karate instructor from when I was little was apparently a cop, because he was the first to respond. He was kind enough to ignore how shit faced I was, give me a ride home, and only a ticket for crossing the yellow line at a cost of $100. My buddies insurance took care of the rest. That is actually the only accident I have been in involving alcohol. Being pulled over is a different story however.
The most memorable getting pulled over story involved me and 3 of my friends. We had just finished pounding back as much booze as possible and decided we NEEDED food. Pulling out of my local fast food restaurant I was pulled over by a cop who ran my plates and noticed I had no insurance and was unregistered (because I am also a huge deadbeat) we hid all of our booze in our bags of food and stumbled out of the car. Luckily right up the street a hit and run happened and the cop was more concerned about that then our drunk asses. We ended up having to walk home, no big deal. The worst thing is I had no desire to go get my car the next day so I left it there and stopped paying for it completely. It got repossessed at some point and my credit took a huge hit because of it. OH WELL. I have been pulled over at extremely odd hours, and in the middle of the day, one time a friend threw a CD directly at a cop car, sometimes the reason is as small as a backlight, headlight, or blinker being out, I have been stopped while wearing close to nothing, dressed as a Mexican, and on multiple occasions wearing gold spandex. Point is I haven’t been pulled over once sober (if you don’t count the 2 times in high school for speeding), and I have never been in trouble for it.
I found that when a cop is talking to you, look them in the eyes, explain where you were going, and ask a simple question. “I was trying to get to Hale Street in Bridgewater, but must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, could you point me in the right direction?” if you replace the street and town with something close to where you are you should have no problems, knock on wood. I am a master bullshitter, I have been since birth.
The End.
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