Thread

For @brianstelter

You spoke earlier about having good cry and feeling liberated.

Let me tell you the latest chapter in my story. Let's see if you can squeeze out a few tears for me.

A homeless woman has been arrested on my property five times.

She tells me that she's going to murder me.

The last time she came, I didn't call the cops.

Big mistake.

She always came at night, kicked my back door, and screamed at me.

TODAY she came before the sun set.

Like a good citizen, I called the cops.

They arrived and told her to leave, which she did.

The dispatcher had told me to stay house, which I did.

When I cam out, the cops told me that they were no longer making arrests for trespassing and threats.

Because of COVID-19.

"Where'd she go?" I asked.

"That's not your business. All that matters is that she's off your property."

So as I stood there, gobsmacked, the head cop said this.

"You need to build a fence. The reason she keeps coming on your property is that you don't have a fence."

So I need to build a FENCE even though are the stores are closed, which means I can't build a fence.

It's MY FAULT that homeless lunatics come on my property.

I need to MODIFY MY HOUSE so that the cops won't have to do their jobs.

They were absolutely indifferent.

To Serve and Protect Our Pensions.

A total disgrace, created by leftism.

My house was built in 1913.

I can't put up a fence because the house was built on the line between the lots.

City ZONING made it impossible for me to put up a fence.

So I'm totally on my own now.

Are you crying yet, Brian?

This state is perfect futuristic dystopia in which laws no longer exist, citizens are taxed to the maximum, zombies roam the streets, and obese plutocrats spend my money on food, booze, and prostitutes.

The homeless woman was wracked by dry coughs.

She's not long for this world, thanks to the state.

BUT.

Her welfare is not my problem. I'm on my own now. Survival mode.

NOW you'll cry, right?

For the homeless woman. Not me.

The cops were LAUGHING. Imagine that.

This is my cousin, photographed in 1967.

He was one of the first members of the US Marshals Special Operations Group, created in 1971.

His job was to be the first man through the door when apprehending dangerous fugitives.

I didn't know that he had a stress-induced heart condition.

He was told that if he didn't retire, he'd die early.

He stayed on the job because he was needed.

The last time I saw him, he suddenly burst into tears as we were leaving. He recovered quickly and followed us out to the end of the driveway and we drove away.

Then he stood out on the road and watched us until we turned the corner.

"Why was Buddy crying?" I asked my mother.

"Because he knows he'll never see us again," she said.

She was right. He died of a heart attack two months later at the age of 49.

I'm now 57, twelve years old than Buddy was when he died.

These are the best years of my life, despite my severe osteoarthritis and PTSD.

Man, Buddy would've had a lot to say to those laughing cops who left me here alone to fend for myself.

But since my city no longer has cops, it's the law of the jungle.

Kill or be killed.

Leftism in a nutshell.

Those cops are not worthy of wearing the badge, any more than @CNN is worthy of calling itself a news network.

It's dark now, and I know the homeless woman will come back pretty soon.

That's fine. I fear nothing.

Not COVID-19, not homicidal homeless lunatics, not anything.

You could learn a lot from me, Brian.

END