Thursday, April 30, 2015

Acme Exterminators

A woman calls 911 to report she found a baby "rodent" near her fence. She has no idea what kind of "rodent" it is, but she's apparently upset that it would trespass on her property. She thinks it might be sick or injured, and she wants a police officer to come to her house and take care of it. But she's not going to wait for a police officer to show up, because she has errands to run.

I have just one question, ma'am: "Who the hell do you think you are? And why do you need a cop to handle this?" I'm sorry, that's two questions.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Strunk White, Idiot Weatherman: Plurals

This unusually high amount of rain we've been having is not "a weather phenomena", you idiot! How the hell did you manage to graduate from college? Or is "meteorologist" just some title you use to gain on-air credibility?

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Strike 4

I'm called to a drunk guy sitting in a car in a parking lot. I find him in the driver's seat, engine running, tunes blaring, drinking a can of beer. It's 3 in the afternoon, and his BAC is .23. He refuses to take any sobriety tests, because "I know I can't pass them". I start going through the charges he's looking at:

Officer Cynical: "The DUI law includes you sitting in the driver's seat of a running car, you know."
Saccha R. O'Myces: "But I wasn't driving."
Officer Cynical: "OK, who was?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "My friend."
Officer Cynical: "And where is your friend now?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "He went to the store for smokes."
Officer Cynical: "OK, we'll just sit here and wait for him to come back."
Saccha R. O'Myces: "OK, I was driving."

Officer Cynical: "And is this car insured?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "Of course it is, man, what do you think I am?"
Officer Cynical: "Can I see your insurance card?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "It's at home."
Officer Cynical: "No problem. I can just call your agent and verify it."
Saccha R. O'Myces: "OK, I don't have insurance."

Officer Cynical: "And you know you can't have an open container of alcohol in a running motor vehicle, right?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "I didn't! I was just sitting here."
Officer Cynical: "Well, there's a cold, open can of beer right there in your cup holder."
Saccha R. O'Myces: "Well, OK, yeah...but I wasn't gonna drive anywhere."
Officer Cynical: "What about when you were done 'just sitting here'?"
Saccha R. O'Myces: "OK, well, yeah....."

Officer Cynical: "And your license is suspended."
Saccha R. O'Myces: (puts head in hands) "Fuck, dude!"


Monday, April 27, 2015

Trains Kill

Last summer, I got a call for a pedestrian hit by a train. When I arrived, the caller was there and just short of hysterical. She said she had seen a guy standing on the sidewalk near the train crossing. He stood there until an oncoming train was about 20 feet away, then stepped out onto the tracks, turned, and ran directly at the train.

Since the train was now stopped and blocking traffic, I figured there might be something to her story. As I started walking the track bed toward the engine, which was a couple hundred yards away, it became clear that the witness hadn't been exaggerating. There were various parts of the victim strewn all over. I finally found the bulk of what was left of him, literally wrapped around the axle of a boxcar, a good 100 yards from the crossing.

The engineer was likewise nearly hysterical. He said he couldn't believe his eyes - a guy running right at him as he approached the crossing. He'd been an engineer for 20 years, and had never seen or heard of anything like it.

A couple of us picked up all the pieces we could find and bagged them up. If I live to be 100, I won't forget collecting that half a hand. Sliced through at midpalm in a perfectly straight line, as though with a pair of scissors.

Friday, April 24, 2015


One of my most memorable exchanges of all time. I'm interviewing a woman in a motel parking lot, after she ran from the scene of the arrest of her drug-dealing boyfriend.

Officer Cynical: "Do you have any drugs, weapons, or anything else on you that I should be concerned about?"

Ms. Stipe: "I have mushrooms in my crotch."

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Officer Cynical: Sees All, Knows All

I used to see this vanity plate "BGDMMY" driving around my beat all the time. I finally ran the plate just to see who it was. A few days later, I get dispatched to a vehicle vandalism call. I recognize the complainant's name in the run as the registered owner of "BGDMMY".

I get to his apartment, and the first thing I say is, "Hey, I know you. You're BGDMMY." The guy's jaw drops open: "How in the hell did you know that?!" And I say, "I'm the cops. I know everything."

The guy acted like I was Wizard of Oz for the rest of the call.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Snap, Crackle, Flop

Hey! If you have some food item to sell that has some crunchy, crackly, snappy quality, you absolutely are not being clever by making yet one more tired commercial that uses those sounds, coupled with human grunts, mmmmm's, ooooh's, and other noises, in some rhythmic manner that approximates musical meter. And, no, people stomping, jumping, sliding and clapping don't make it any better. If you think I'm sitting in front of my TV tapping my foot and snapping my fingers in time to your misguided attempt to be clever, you're mistaken. In fact, Mrs. Cynical is holding me down while I struggle to get past her and put my foot through the screen. Only once has anything like that ever been used successfully, and it had nothing to do with food.

And while I'm at it, people singing stupid, off-key lyrics is not helping you sell car insurance. Stop ruining TV, godammit!

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

At Your Service

Sure, I can come to your house and do a breathalyzer test on you so you can demonstrate to your ex-husband, with whom you're in a child custody dispute, that you're sufficiently sober to take the kids for the day. I'll also pick up your laundry and do your grocery shopping for you on my way over, too. Got a list?

Monday, April 20, 2015

Consent Search

One night I pulled over this young guy for speeding. He stopped in the parking lot of a fast food joint. As I always do after I approach, I asked for his driver's license and proof of insurance. He produced the DL from his wallet, then reached over to get his insurance card from the glove box. This is not unusual. I watched him carefully ("it's the hands that kill you"), but I wasn't alarmed.

Until he obviously maneuvered his body so I couldn't see inside the glove box as he opened it. He sort of adjusted himself so his back was squarely between me and the open glove box, and even used one hand as a kind of shield as he dug around in there with the other. At one point, he actually glanced at me over his shoulder while he was doing this. I backed off a step and got ready for something bad.

Finally, he extracted the insurance card and handed it over. I wrote him the ticket and gave it to him. Then, after making it clear we were finished and he was free to leave (avoiding a possible future claim he thought he was in custody), I asked for permission to search his car. Unbelievably, he agreed.

Once I got a backup officer on scene, I made a beeline for the glove box. There, in plain sight, was the reason for all the subterfuge. A bag of drugs so big it barely fit in there. The driver just sat there, hanging his head. Busted on a consent search. Dumbass.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Sugar Blood Content

If you have diabetes that you choose not to control, please don't drive when I'm working. If you're using your insulin vial as a paperweight, I would appreciate it if you didn't get behind the wheel on my beat.

I once came across a car that had been driven into a snowbank. The car was in DRIVE, the completely unresponsive driver had the gas pedal floored, and the rear wheels were spinning a hundred miles an hour. The clouds of blue tire smoke were glorious to behold. Fortunately, the car was stuck. The driver was so far out of it I literally could not pry his hands off the steering wheel by myself. His BGL was in the 20s, and his daughter later told us he did this kind of thing all the time.

Another guy caused a huge accident at a major intersection, continued driving as he ricocheted off parked cars for about 2 miles, and finally slammed into the back of a bus that was stopped to pick up passengers. I was the first cop on scene. The passenger compartment was filled with smoke and the driver was completely unresponsive. I had to break the window to get him out. We found out later this was at least the third time for this guy.

Please - have a Snickers before you drive, or stay home.

(Quiz: The title of this blog entry is attributable to whom?)

Thursday, April 16, 2015


The city can't afford to provide each of us with his/her own squad car, so we have to share them. Each of us is assigned a particular unit, so it's no secret who drives which squad.

If you're assigned to the same car as I am, I expect you to clean it up before you turn it over to me at the end of your shift. If you don't, my protocol is to put your candy wrappers, drink cups, used rubber gloves, dirty breathalyzer mouthpieces, and all the rest of that nasty shit you leave behind into your mailbox. Like I did today.

Seriously, dude, get a clue!

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

All-Time Most Overrated

With the deliberate intent of fomenting unrest among my readers, here are my personal selections that come to mind every single time I see/hear them:

Most Overrated Actor: TIE - Sean Penn (once declaring guns "cowardly killing machines" hilariously now portraying "ex-special forces" Gunman) and Al Pacino ("I'm deep. Very deep. Just very, very troubled and subdued and deep.")

Most Overrated Actress: TIE - Sandra Bullock and Julia Roberts (somebody once told them they were funny)

Most Overrated Singer (Male): Arlo Guthrie (An icon of my generation. Never got it, never will)

Most Overrated Singer (Female): TIE - Whitney Houston (You know, sometimes just holding a single note wouldn't hurt) and Nancy Sinatra (Even the last name didn't help, did it?)

Most Overrated Movie: Forrest Gump (My first words after I left the theater: "I think I've been had!")

Most Overrated Comedian: TIE Redd Foxx ("Let me grunt another curse word!") and Robin Williams (I had had enough at about Patch Adams)

Most Overrated Comedienne: TIE - Lisa Lampanelli ("I wish I was Don Rickles.") and Wanda Sykes ("I Wish I was Redd Foxx.")

Most Overrated Talk Show Host: TIE - Conan O'Brien and Ellen DeGeneres (They are actually one and the same person: "See how I can strike an awkward pose and make a face? I'm hilarious.")

Most Overrated Author: Stephen King ("You're not even trying anymore, are you?")

Add categories. Add nominations. Praise and/or curse my selections. I'm waiting.....

Disclaimer: This was written before the deaths of a couple of these people, but I opted not to change them.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015


Officer Cynical: "I'm going to pass the tip of my pen left and right in front of your face. I want you to follow the tip of that pen with your eyes and your eyes only - don't move your head. Do you understand?"

Mr. Etoh: "Yes."

Officer Cynical: (notes that Mr. Etoh's eyes immediately become high-speed Pong screens): "How much alcohol have you had to drink tonight?"

Mr. Etoh: "Two beers."

Officer Cynical: "Of course."

Monday, April 13, 2015


I once had two back-to-back DWI trials, both with the same defense attorney.

In trial 1, I had stopped this ultra-rich SOB in his very high-end sports car at about 2AM. He had his attorney's personal phone number, and called him for advice about submitting to a breath test. The attorney advised him to do so and he failed. He took it to court anyway. Guilty.

In trial 2, I had stopped some woman at about 2AM, and she asked to speak with an attorney before submitting to a breath test. She didn't have any attorney's personal number, so as we always do, I provided her with a phone and a phone book, and she started calling numbers out of the yellow pages. Of course, she got no answer anywhere at that hour, and had to decide on her own whether to take the breath test. She did and failed. She took it to court anyway.

Attorney Darrow: "Officer Cynical, do you think it's reasonable to expect someone to be able to contact an attorney at that hour of the morning?"

Officer Cynical: "Well, your previous client didn't have any problem."

The judge, court clerk, and gallery busted out laughing, and the judge had to temporarily halt the proceedings, even turning off the audio recorder. The defense attorney went purple with rage. Once everyone had regained their composure, the defense attorney simply replied, "OK. No more questions"


College Basketball

I think it's genetic. I hate basketball. I know absolutely nothing about it, and I don't follow it at any level. My Dad never watched it, so neither did I. I also pretty much hate college sports across the board. I don't follow or care about any teams. My Dad never paid any attention to any of it, so I didn't either. We were (and I still am) a big fan of pro football, baseball, hockey, name it. But basketball? Forget about it. College sports of any kind? Not interested. And college basketball? Just kill me.

So, of course, I always invest heavily in the NCAA basketball pool.

This year, I got scientific. I looked on line and in the newspapers, and put together a consensus of all the experts' picks. I filled out the entire bracket, not knowing a single thing other than what other people were predicting.

Guess what? I won $300.

Friday, April 10, 2015


No, I don't believe that your house, filled with dog and cat feces, and strewn with every imaginable form of garbage, has only been that way for 3 days. Turds don't grow white fungus toupees in just 3 days. Besides, it would take 100 dogs to produce that much shit in 3 days - not just the few adults and litter of pups you're busy torturing. The absence of food and water for your pets makes me wonder how they manage to poop at all. That you have a 3-year-old living with you in this indescribable squalor, while you spend a fortune on all those tattoos, all that jewelry, and all the dope you smoke in those pipes I saw laying around your house, is a true measure of your character.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Seeing What You Want To See

I once came across a van, occupied by about 5 males, off by itself in the corner of a parking lot. The whole thing looked suspicious as hell - this van full of guys just sitting there in the middle of nowhere, engine running, and everybody sort of groping around inside.

As I approached on foot, I could see that several occupants were nodding off as though they were stoned out of their minds. I'm thinking that this is going to be a good drug bust. When I knocked on the window, a couple of them even turned away from me like they didn't want me to see their faces.

I got an ID from the driver, and tried to get IDs from the rest of them, but only a few were alert enough to be able to produce them. I was about to call for back-up, an ambulance, and a drug dog, when the driver says, "You know, these guys are all residents at Big Group Home for the Handicapped - we're just out for a drive. Did we do something wrong?"

I gave everybody their IDs back, apologized, and got the hell out of there. Sometimes, I can be really stupid.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

With More Apologies to Henny Youngman

A guy goes to his doctor and says, "Doc, you gotta help me. My love life is terrible." The doctor looks him over and says, "I want you to run 10 miles a day, lose 20 pounds, and call me in 2 weeks."

Two weeks later the guy calls and says, "Doc, I did what you said. I've run 10 miles every day for 2 weeks and lost 20 pounds." The doctors asks, "So, how's you love life now?" The guy says, "I have no idea. I'm 140 miles from home."

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Who Was Driving?

Vehicle accidents include a lot of different scenarios. Usually, they involve a car, truck, motorcycle or like apparatus hitting something, such as another car, truck or motorcycle, a pedestrian, or some fixed object. However, when the wind blows a shopping cart across the parking lot and it hits your unoccupied car, that's not an accident. That's a civil matter between you and the store, and I don't do civil matters. If  you can show that someone did it on purpose, it's a criminal act and I can do a criminal report. But it's not an accident.

You can loom over me and imperiously tell me that it is an accident and you demand an accident report all you want, but I'm not doing one. You can threaten to call my supervisor if I don't take an accident report all you want, but I'm not doing one. You can fume and sulk and sigh and say, "I don't believe this. This is bullshit!" like you're a victim all you want, but I'm not doing one. I've been doing this job a couple of days now, and I'm starting to get pretty good at it.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Spring Break Numbskulls

Here, a couple of douchebags think they can take on a cop. They are mistaken.

Friday, April 3, 2015

You're Gonna Need A Bigger Boat

I stop a guy for driving with a revoked license. He has no insurance on the car, so I impound it.

Officer Cynical: "I would suggest you take anything valuable out of the car before the tow truck gets here."

Mr. Foyt: "I have some tools in there."

Officer Cynical: "Fine. Go ahead and get them. Will you be able to walk home with them or do you want a ride?"

Mr. Foyt: "If you could give me a ride, that would be great."

Officer Cynical: "No problem. Get your tools and we'll go."

Mr. Foyt proceeds to stack 2 large tool boxes full of tools, a gigantic suitcase full of clothes, two pairs of mud-caked work boots, a set of PGA tour-worthy golf clubs, and - I kid you not - a full-sized 2-ton floor jack on the side of the road.

Officer Cynical: "This isn't exactly what I had in mind. There's no room in the trunk, and you'll never get all that stuff in the back seat. Have you got a friend you can call to help you move it?"

Mr. Foyt: "Yeah, I'll call him right now."

As the tow truck is hauling off his car and I'm driving away, Mr. Foyt's friend shows up. On his motorcycle.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

If It Bleeds, It Leads

I understand that the news media have a job to do. And in a fairly low-crime city like mine, a lot passes for news that probably wouldn't get mentioned somewhere else. As a result, reporters are constantly out scrounging for something. But I'm really sick of having accident and crime scenes hijacked by reporters, photographers, and video camera operators.

Where the preservation of evidence is critical, we have to be very vigilant about who wanders into the scene. I've learned the hard way that the media will go anywhere they please unless/until you stop them. They'll  tramp all over everything and stick microphones and cameras in your face, and expect you to drop what you're doing and make nice. My standard response to them is to talk to my Sergeant.

The worst was at the scene of a bicycle-car accident. A kid on a bike had been hit broadside by a car going about 40 mph. He was lying, screaming, in the middle of a busy street with each lower leg forming a sideways letter 'L' midway between the knee and ankle. The bones were sticking out and the kid was bleeding all over the street. While trying to simultaneously render first aid, divert traffic, preserve the scene for reconstruction, and get the kid transported to an ER, a local news anchor just strolls right up to me. He explained he had a deadline in the next little while, and would settle for anything I could tell him. I told him to get the fuck up on the sidewalk, or I'd give new meaning to the word "deadline".

Wednesday, April 1, 2015


Out of an admittedly warped sense of curiosity, and with the full knowledge of Mrs. Cynical, I filled out the on-line questionnaire for eHarmony. I answered all the questions covering every part of my personality, and submitted it. Shortly thereafter, I received a notice that there were "no matches".