Officer Rambo: Alternates

I hope everyone found the Officer Rambo jokes funny in the post about Officer Krista last week.  I had made a few extra joke pictures that were possibilities for the post, that wound up going unused.  I figured I’d just go ahead and put them up since I found them funny, hopefully you folks will, too.  There’s only two, but I enjoyed them.

The first one was going to be in response to the line, “You think she and the wife would be up for a threesome?”



The second one was going to be the after-signature comment, referencing the final punchline about Krista being drunk:



Officer Krista Did What?

In my ‘day job’ I have to deal with the city police on a semi-regular basis. One particular night when I had to call the police the call was responded to by two officers. One was a regular we deal with; I like to call him Officer Rambo. He’s always got this wild-eyed look to him and can’t stand still.

One time I called to report a guy smoking a crack pipe in the street in front of my workplace and the guy drove away before they got there. Officer Rambo remarked, “Dude! You gotta call sooner, do you have any idea how fun it is to bash out a window with a baton and drag a cracked-out hippy out of a car window?”

Officer Rambo, the later years.

Officer Rambo, the later years.

But the other officer was an athletic brunette. She was cute, charming, and very helpful with the case. We’ll call her Officer Krista, because that was her name. Probably…I’m kind of bad with names and this happened over a year ago.

So anyway, Rambo and Krista show up and take statements from my partner and I. At the end of the whole issue I offered them a cup of coffee or such. They politely declined. Rambo reminded me that there is justice to be done or some crazy shit, I’m sure.

That was when Krista tore a sheet out of her pocket notebook, wrote her name and cell number on it and said, “Here’s my number. It’s my cell, so if you need anything, even if I’m not on-duty, go ahead and give me a call.”

Now, that’s what I call polite! I was telling my new partner about the story and about how helpful of a police officer she was. He shrugged, “Yeah, all the city officers have business cards with their name, badge number, and office numbers on them.”

That’s right, they do! But she wrote her personal cell number down, with her name, and no badge number…and, uhh…no office number…



That works, too.

That works, too.

She was hitting on me! Wasn’t she? Wasn’t she, Rambo?!


It was a moot point, I was already married, but still. A cute girl with a nice job was hitting on me! Do you know what that means?  It means the city cops must be drinking on the job, is what it means.


Pulled Over And Not Tested?

So last night the wife and I were driving home from getting some shopping done and we decided to hit one of our favorite spots to eat: Applebee’s.  She had chicken and shrimp and I had a 9 oz steak and we shared a dessert.  Including tip, and drinks, it was under $40; not a bad set, especially since we had some leftovers for breakfast today.

But let’s go back to those drinks I had mentioned.  She had the Mango Lemonade and I had a cup of tea.  Neither of which is boozy.  So skip ahead a few minutes to when we’re driving home and I see flashy-lights behind me.

Uhh, not that kind of flashy lights.

Yeah, something a little more like that.

So I pulled into the next parking space and proceeded to make an ass out of myself to a kindly police officer.  Being in the industry I work in and the industries I work alongside, I generally have pretty congenial pull-overs; I know the proper protocols, I know the questions, I know the responses…I know when to reach for things and when to sit still with my hands on the steering wheel knowing that I’m also a paranoid psychopath that often has a small armory in my vehicle.

So question 1 that I failed at, when he saw my concealed carry permit:


“Do you have a firearm with you?”





“No, sir, not on me.”




“Do you have any other weapons in the vehicle?”





“…I, uhh, I…don’t think so?”





“Well look, you either have a firearm or you don’t, and it’s kind of important to me what the answer to that is.”



Now the issue here is…we had considered wearing our costumes to Applebee’s.  And as I mentioned in an earlier post, our costumes were that of samurai.  Complete with killer-quality blade swords.  We had debated wearing the costumes with the wooden practice swords, but we had decided to just slum it and dress down.  I was wearing a gray hoodie over top of one of my DickJutsu shirts (which I can shamelessly remind you that you can purchase here).  So finally the correct response…



“No, sir, no weapons on me at this moment.”




Then he explained that he had been following me for a few blocks and that I had swerved past the fog lines on the road.  I can certainly believe it, the lines on that particular road need repainted and it was raining, so I couldn’t even argue since I couldn’t see the fog lines, myself; good on him that he still could.

Now question number two that I failed miserably at:



“Where are you folks coming from?”





“Applebee’s, just had some dinner.”




“Have any drinks, there?”





“No sir, I didn’t.”




Now this failure comes from the fact that my wife was considering trying one of their Halloween seasonal alcoholic drinks.  We talked about her getting it, but she opted not to, because she is a pushover when it comes to booze and she decided she still had things to do and that the drink would put her on her ass for the rest of the night.  So I corrected my mistake…



“Sorry, neither of us had anything.”




Off to a good start!  Regardless, he took my ID, registration, and insurance information and went back to his squad car.  I did violate proper procedures a bit when I rolled my window back up and turned it to accessories to run the heater for a bit, but it was pretty chilly at ten-pm last night.  When he returned I shut it back off and rolled the window down (in that order, because my van is friggin’ awesome and lets me run the door locks and windows for a few minutes after it’s turned off).

During the time he was away, the wife and I had a conversation of our own.



“Do you think he’s going to give you a sobriety test?”















“He might!”





“Woah, what?  Why are you getting so excited?”





“I’ve never been given a sobriety test before!”




Needless to say, I think the cop lied to me.  He came back, returned my stuff and said…



“Okay, I’ve informed you of the reason for your pull-over.  Do you have any questions?”




And a question that I actually answered correctly…so one out of three ain’t bad, right?



“No, Sir; thank you.”




The cop walked away, jumped into his car, and pulled away.  Now like I said earlier, I know the procedures…cops don’t just pull away after a pull-over.  I think he either got a call in and figured I was a small-fry or a hard take (since, I was completely sober) or else he was actually pulling me over for a different reason, that somebody had committed a crime in a vehicle like mine but we didn’t match the suspect’s descriptions or such.  Or he might have just had to poop and was on his way back to the station in a hurry.  Who knows?

Anyway, driving home the wife and I had another conversation on the matter and this series of dialogue came up…


“Why did you get so excited about being given a sobriety test?”





“Because it’s a test that I can ace!”





“You are…so retarded.  You don’t want to get sobriety tested!”





“Yes, yes I do.  It’s a test I know that I can pass!  I have studied for this test for my entire life!”




“How…how do you study for a sobriety test?”





“By not getting drunk.”





“I…never mind.”

Argument Won!  1 point for Male!  New score…Male 3, Female 5,768!


So remember folks, just like W.C. Fields said…


Drive safe, now, Folks!

Corrupt Local Yokals

Just a bit of news, my fiancé was recently in a car accident.  She’s okay, the car isn’t, and it’s going to cost me a fortune.  Why?  Because my future father-in-law manages a mechanic shop, with towing services.  I can get discounted, or free, towing.  As such I didn’t pay the extra $27 a month for the towing/rental package from my car insurance.

But when the accident happened, my fiancé drove the car away from the accident site.  The responding police officer then deemed the vehicle was not drivable and ordered a tow.  He forced my fiancé to get towed by the local towing company (who has a very lucrative contract with 5 of the local police forces) to their impound/service lot.

When her brother was caught trespassing (he was riding his dirt bike in a place he shouldn’t have been) the cops impounded his bike and it cost $160 to ‘tow’ the dirt bike to the impound lot.  They also charged $60 a night for storage.

That was a dirt bike; imagine what towing and storing a car is going to cost me!  And he didn’t even tow it to my garage to get fixed!

I live on the border of four different police precincts.  We’ve got a corrupt force who won’t enforce drug laws but brutally punishes sound ordinance offenders (a guy refused to turn down his music…so they tazed him), a force that has a 45 minutes response time (over an hour if the local corner store just put out fresh coffee), a force with four vehicles and only two officers on duty at any time (one squad car, two unmarked cars, and one K-9 unit SUV), and then one that relegates a lot of its patrol duties to a private security company (I know because I work for the company).

All four of these precincts have contracts with this towing and impound company.  If you have an accident within a 25-mile radius of my home…I know where your car’s going to be.


To go further into stories of corrupt police forces…my boss was telling me a story the other day.  He said that he was sitting in his living room watching T.V. and noticed a pair of cars pull up in front of his house.

A handful of guys got out of the vehicles, dressed in all-black with sunglasses on, and walked into his yard, approaching his house.

They walked up to his door…and hard kick ripped it right off the hinges.  My boss leapt to his feet and jumped behind the couch, he’s trained in Kempo Karate, and prepared to square off with the five or so guys that just charged into his home.

“Are you Robert?” asked the guy in the lead.

My boss shook his head and said, “No.”

“Do you know where Robert is?”

Again, “No.”

“Is Mary here?”

At this point my boss called his mother down from her room upstairs, as she was living with him at the time, and told her, “Ma, I think they’re looking for Robby.”

Only now did the badges come out and the men explained that they had a warrant for my boss’ brother-in-law and since this was my boss’ mother-in-law’s listed residence, they thought maybe he was there as well.

After forcing my boss to prove his identity and searching the house (without a search warrant) they said they were convinced that Robert wasn’t there and they began to depart.

That’s when my boss posed a question to them, “Hey!  What about my door?  You kicked it in, remember?”

The lead detective looked at my boss, looked at the door, then shrugged, “That’s your homeowner’s insurance.”

There are a lot of good cops out there…it’s a shame it seems like the asshole cops are the ones who get hired, though.


My boss had a $500 deductible on his insurance, so he just bought two dead bolts and put a steel piano hinge on the door.  Good luck ripping that bitch off the hinges.