Thursday, June 30, 2005

From a reader...

Dear Throat,

Deary me...what a difference two days makes! There I was, sitting in my recliner and playing with my hearing aid battery for grins and giggles, and it suddenly dawned on me...ah...uh...what was dawning..."By the dawn's early light", that's not it...OH, yes! I remember that I want to praise Chief Jim for keeping the streets clear of ruffians, vagabonds, coloreds, and ragamuffins. That was it.

I can't remember...ah, yes...please disregard what I said a couple of days ago about "a little Benton Harbor"...I keep forgettin' these's so hard to remember, what with all of these...well...gosh-darned (*tee hee*) good-fer-nuthins trying to tarnish the memories I have of Chief Jim once smiling at me. Turns out that I get these...oh, dear...gosh-darned things confused all the time...last year, I forgot and voted for both Nixon AND Humphrey...AT THE SAME TIME. Oh, dearie dearie...anyway, I forgot that I was looking at crime stats for BURNS Harbor, Indiana...or was it Boston Harbor...anyway, these things confuse me so much...

Also keep in mind that Chief Jim's uncle's first cousin's sister-in-law was once nice to a stray dog that she found, and that ALL of Chief Jim's relatives must be nice if this uncle's first cousin's sister-in-law was so kind that one time. I also heard a rumor that Chief Jim's cousin's sister-in-law's best friend's uncle once refrained from spitting at a Mexican fella that looked directly at him (the NERVE). These people are the cream of the crop, I tell ya...

So, kindly disregard what I said in my letter in that gosh-darned Harold's Paper, or whoever owns it now, except of course the truthful things that I said about that Troublemaker Bob fella (he's a meanie!)'s what I said in the Journalistic Error that really counts, unless I'm confused about that as well. Maybe it's what I'm going to say in the West End Tribunal that counts...I don't know...dearie, dearie, it's time for my Geritol and Rum (*tee hee*)'s a fun thing to do if you DON'T have a lynchin' to go to that day...

Confusingly Yours
Judy Ostrich

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Ways to Tighten the Budget

On August 2nd, Broken Springs police will ask the voters for more tax money to fund their department. In the event of a millage failure, we recommend the following modifications to keep things afloat. (Or better yet, do these and cancel the millage vote altogether.)

  • Use police bikes instead of gas guzzling automobiles. The village of BS is one mile square, small enough to patrol by ten speed. Use the cars only for township patrols. The added exercise would also help keep our officers fit and trim, thereby resulting in fewer medical bills and insurance costs for the taxpayer to foot.
Estimated savings: $17,000 per car, $18,000 in fuel (180K miles/20 mpg = 9,000 fill-ups @ $2 per gallon) = $35,000 per vehicle, $175,000 if we lose 5 police cars.

  • No more jelly doughnuts. Officers should be watching their weight anyhow, in the event of a foot chase with a Mexican who steals a tangerine from a local fruit stand. Glazed and sugar free doughnuts are cheaper and less unhealthy for the cop watching his waistline. This is an efficient way for the BSPD to, quite literally, tighten its belt.
Estimated savings: 25 cents per doughnut, per cop, per day = $14 a week, $728 annually.

  • Forget the Tasers already! If BSers wanted our fuzz to be armed with 50,000 volts of electricity, we’d have deputized Thomas Edison. If BS cops are so concerned with their safety, they should either learn to use that thing holstered on their hip or consider a career change.Tasers are controversial, deadly, likely to be abused, and expensive. Who needs ‘em?
Estimated savings: $1700 for tasers, $300 for cartridges (a conservative estimate) = $2,000

  • Don’t supply coverage to townships who don’t supply mutual aid back. Why we do this in the first place puzzles me. It’d be like America coming to France’s aid every time they got invaded. Sure, once or twice, if someone is trying to take over the world, okay. But on a weekly basis, and for non emergencies? These other townships are using us and spitting us out, like a skanky girlfriend uses a rich beau for jewelry and new threads. But at least he gets some pleasure out of it. We don’t even get a kiss.
Estimated savings: $35,000

  • Hire a police cat instead of a drug dog. Duran, loved as he was, was a big furry waste of taxpayer’s money with a wet nose. Hire a Police Feline instead. They can be found for free on any night in any alley in Broken Springs. They are also more reliable at sniffing out convicts, never need to be muzzled, and are easily house trained.
Estimated savings: $10,000 for dog, $500 a year in Milkbones, totaling $10,500. (Add $50 for Officer Frisky's 9 Lives, $5 for litter box and litter, and $3 for little cute pink collar with a bell) = $10,442 savings.

  • Supply only one bullet per gun per officer. If it’s good enough for Mayberry, it should be good enough for Broken Springs. After all, it’s been several years since any cop has actually had to fire a weapon (except for that one cop that one time behind the gas station while hunting). Auction excess bullets on ebay.
Estimated savings: No way of knowing for sure. Approximately $2 per cop = $24 annually.

  • Don’t give back vacation pay, even if it is to the Police Chief and even if he is a homegrown citizen who donates to charity and knows everyone by their first name. If the department’s policy is ‘Use it or lose it’ then don’t allow Indian givers.
Estimated savings: $5,000

  • Have Police Officer Auctions and "Chippendale" style calenders. With the dozen studs we have serving and protecting, we ought to be able to raise at least a ten spot, maybe even fifteen dollars if they promise not to take off any clothes.
So you see, ladies and germs, we don’t need no pesky mill. Just with these ideas off the top of my head, I’ve managed to save our department $227,553, which would put them far in the black and in need of no further tax money. Please, no need for applause.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Chief Jim Not Appreciated


Broken Springs residents who criticize our fair and charitable police chief are all ex convicts who shouldn’t be allowed to take residence in this great city, let alone open their big mouths to voice opposition. Naturally, they have a vendetta against our great Police Chief just because he is white and upholds the law that they are so quick to violate. Mr. Bruce, whose pen often scribbles nasty things about good people, is the worst of the worst. He should be tarred and feathered. Or drawn and quartered. Or perhaps tar and feathered AND THEN drawn and quartered. Broken Springs would not miss him, not one little bit.

Don’t these people realize that during the recent years, Broken Springs has turned into a little Benton Harbor, with an influx of drug dealers, violence, home break-ins and other crimes, all of which increase the work of the police department already busy serving and protecting and rescuing kittens out of trees? By urging people to vote against the millage, Mr. Bruce and his gang of thugs are putting Broken Springs in danger. Never in my 90 years of BS residency have I been more offended and insulted by the audacity of these disloyal BSers to throw stones. I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore! That noise you hear is the sound of my cane pounding on the water pipes, a rally cry for our side to gather round our messiah, Chief Jim Kingston, and defend his honor.

I urge the Police Commission to rule Mr. Bruce out of order, but surely not out of odor.

Judy Ostrich

Monday, June 27, 2005

Protocol Schmotocol

Chief Jim Kingston of Broken Springs is the only police chief in the area who has chosen to ignore the County’s Protocol Directive, requiring the fire department to be dispatched to scenes of automobile accidents. According to our sources (a bunch of fat balding men at the local saloon), this is not the only ‘protocol’ the Chief ignores.

He also:

  • Wears white after Labor Day
  • Swims less than 30 minutes after eating
  • Takes “Mulligans” on the golf course
  • Dog ears pages to books, both paperback and hardback
  • Tears off mattress tags
  • Doesn’t wear underwear, preferring to go “Commando”
  • Eats steak with white wine, not red
  • Steps on cracks in the sidewalk (No word yet on the back condition of his mother)
  • Doesn’t change the roll of toilet paper OR fill the ice cube tray when he’s emptied it
  • Only poop scoops while walking dog in public if people are looking
  • Prefers to ride his horse ‘bareback’

To be fair, the Police Commission has only recommended that he follow the prior Protocol Directives, as well as the one requiring the fire department at accident scenes. There has been no order to follow any of the protocols, especially the horse riding one, because saddles are for sissies.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Quit Hassling Our Chief

Dear Editor,
I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m getting cotton picking tired of reading continued criticism of our police chief over matters which hardly mean didley squat.

So Chief Jim cashed checks that weren’t made out to him. Big hairy deal. That sort of thing happens all the time. Just yesterday I forged my wife’s signature on a check to pay for that Pay Per View Triple X rated WWF event. Did she raise a stink? No, she did not.

These ne’er do wells who belittle the Chief keep bringing up this tiny amount of money, $1700. I think I’ve found more than that under the cushions of my couch. Hell, I’ve tucked more than that in the G strings of half naked ladies in strip joints. What’s the big deal?

It’s high time we quit hassling our devoted leaders and join them in bettering our community. That’s all Chief Jim wants, a finer community, preferably one with fewer malcontents like that troublemaker Bruce and the chick named Bonnie who doesn’t know how to spell her own name.

In Chief Jim, we have a fearless leader so concerned with bettering our community that he actually eavesdropped on private conversations with the Bionic Ear, an illegal device. And once, despite it being not politically correct, he even expressed concern over Negroes, putting his reputation on the line for his fellow BSers.

Chief Jim only wants what is best for Broken Springs and what’s best is a controlled populace with stifled dissent. We BS citizens deserve nothing less.

Gory Streets

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Laundry Sabotage Investigation

Broken Springs Police have begun an investigation into possible sabotage at the town’s only Laundromat, the Sudz n Dudz, after local Klansman Arnie Perkins formally complained that their washer turned his robe and hood a bright shade of flamingo pink.

Perkins, whose lifelong affiliation with the Klan has made him a notorious BSer, alleges that some of the town’s younger ‘tanner’ citizens sabotaged his washer with a red jersey, which he described as, “probably gang colors of some sort.”

Asked how he can be sure if the suspects were of a darker race, Perkins replied, “I’m certain of it. They were also carrying watermelons, listening to rap, and while exiting the Laundromat, they almost tripped over their baggy jeans.”

When questioned whether the laundry incident could’ve been his own fault, Perkins grew so irate that his face turned redder than his KKK getup. “I always separate my coloreds from my whites! Segregation is the way of the Lord. In laundry and also in life."

The mishap, however, didn’t discourage him from attending his monthly Klansman rally, held in his hometown, Pigeon Hole, Alabama. But because his robe and hood were both an unfortunate shade of pink, Arnie was immediately asked to go home, on the suspicion of being a homosexual.

"Unfortunately my fellow Klansman judged me solely on the color of my robe. But I can't help it what color my robe is. What's inside is what counts," said Arnie, wiping back a tear.

In related news, convenience store owner Stan Carpenter reported that two black males stole two 40 oz bottles of Mickey’s Malt Liquor, valued at $1.89 apiece. The two suspects escaped on foot, and were described by local authorities as “two black males, don’t they all look the same?” Public is advised to be on the lookout, as suspects are considered armed and dangerous, not to mention drunk on very cheap beer.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Tasers Save Lives

Dear Editor,

As I mentioned at last month’s police commission meeting, my son is a police officer who has had to use tasers on the job. Those who oppose tasers do so only because they care more about criminals than they do the police officers hired to protect and serve our society. Not only do these protective devices prevent injuries to officers, they also help save innocent lives, as the following story illustrates.

It was a routine bank robbery last summer when Dick Cheney was leaving our glorious little town of Broken Springs. Our cops were all relaxing over breakfast at the Daybreak Café (back when it was a good place to eat) as a masked black man sauntered into the Three Fifths Bank, presented a gun, and demanded from the teller all of the money in Broken Springs.

The teller, having known Chief Jim on a more intimate level than the rest of us (enough to cash checks even if they’re not made out to him), excused herself to the ladies room where she speed dialed Chief Jim on her mobile phone and notified him of the situation.

Jim, being the efficient and devoted leader that he is, dropped his fork on the spot and left his eggs over easy untouched. He raced to the scene with another Broken Springs officer, Keith Mauve. By this time, another customer in the bank had collapsed at the sight of the black man with the gun. Ambulances were quickly dispatched but the man was already cold on the floor.

My son, a reserve officer for the Michigan State Police, was the first on the scene. He wrestled the gun out of the robber’s black hands and in the scuffle, dropped his taser to the floor, where Officer Mauve promptly recovered it while Chief Jim ordered the black assailant face down on the floor with his black hands where they could see them. When the black suspect took a step towards them, Officer Mauve aimed and fired 50,000 volts of electricity in his direction.

Unfortunately it missed the black assailant but the prongs lodged themselves instead into the body of the deceased man on the floor. Chief Jim, with help from the boy I squeezed out of my vagina, tackled the black suspect to the ground and handcuffed him. Meanwhile, to the surprise of the bank employees, the dead man on the floor twitched and upon inspection was found to be breathing and very much alive. Apparently the electricity had jump started his heart and saved his life.

So you see, my fellow citizens, tasers are a matter of life and death but not in the way you might be led to believe by the crybabies in our community. Our responsible officers and law abiding society can and should benefit from this life saving modern technology.

Lonna Jackson

Thursday, June 16, 2005

The Hunting Trip

Dear concerned citizens of Broken Springs,

So much has been made of my hunting trip behind PriMart last year that I’ve decided to once and for all set the record straight in order to prevent further embarrassment to my department. Yes, it is true that I accidentally discharged a weapon, hitting a young lady in the back of the leg as she pumped gas at PriMart but the circumstances surrounding this event are not fully known to my fellow villagers.

Last fall, my esteemed and benevolent boss, Chief Jim, or “Sheriff Andy Taylor” as we like to call him around the Department, insisted that I take a day off work after being on duty for a record 564 consecutive days, during which I handed out another record 3,276 tickets for everything from jaywalking to first degree murder. Chief Jim practically had to beg me to take a day off work, and I obliged him under the condition that I could wear my Kevlar under my hunting greens, in the event that I should come into contact with some dark skinned terrorist who may or may not attend Andrews University.

So I packed up my muzzle loader, and a twelve pack of Old Milwaukee’s Best and I headed into the woods behind the gas station because I once overheard a couple perps say they killed a 12 point buck out there. Once in the woods, I sprinkled me some doe urine on my boots, hoping to attract a big buck, because secretly the thought attracting a huge animal with a large penis makes me more excited than pulling over a truckload of Mexicans.

I wasn’t out there even an hour and had barely touched my 8th beer before a large muscular well hung deer peeked around a tree at me. Immediately my blood pressure began to rise, or something began to rise… I assume it was my blood pressure. I raised my firearm, and found the buck in the gun’s scope.. Then he started at me. I assure you, I’m not making this up. The large buck (13-14 points easy) started sprinting towards me faster than a nigra who’d just stolen a brand new TV. I backed up quickly, or as quickly as my short stocky body will move, and tried my hardest to keep the dangerous animal in the crosshairs of my aim. The only thought running through my mind at the time was protecting the sacred village of Broken Springs from this large and dangerous animal heading towards the gas station. Who knows what havoc it might’ve caused if unleashed on the town, especially seeing as how it was nearing 3:30, the time school lets out.

So time slowed down in those dangerous moments, and I’d be lying if I said my life didn’t pass before my eyes. If only I had my police dog, Duran there to protect me, but I’d left him home in his spacious 3x5 wire cage. He probably would’ve been no good anyway, because he only obeys orders given in German, a language I never mastered other than the word hamburger.

The buck was literally inches away from me, and close up I could see the strong muscles of his chest and how they rippled with each slow seductive movement of his front legs. So distracted I was by this most detailed and erotic sight, I tripped backwards so that the bottle of deer urine in my pocket tipped over and dribbled down my leg. I remember feeling its warmth soak through my long underwear, as the deer straddled my fallen body. All I could hear was a muffled grunting sound as the beast thrust itself on my right leg, the one soaked in deer urine.

When I hit the ground, my gun accidentally discharged well into the air and the bullet was fired behind me in the direction of the gas station. The noise from my weapon must’ve startled the animal because once the blast went off, the deer jumped off me and ran in the other direction. At once, I pulled myself from the ground, wiped the scent of deer urine off my leg (which unfortunately required my breaking of local nudity ordinances and would thus explain why I ran out of the woods naked, thereby scarring several on looking children for life). I was only notified later, by Chief Jim, that my stray bullet had lodged in the calf of an innocent woman pumping gas. I humbly apologized in person the next day, and talked her out of litigation.

So you see, fellow BSers, there's more to the story than meets the eye. I’m only grateful that the horrendous creature did not attack anyone else in our quaint little town, or that he didn’t want anything more from me than just a dry hump in the woods, otherwise I might not be alive to set the record straight.

I also think this story illustrates our desperate need for Tasers in the community. Had I been armed with a Taser, I could’ve electrified the beast with 50,000 volts in the middle of his fornicating behavior, thus protecting both the community and myself from the sexual assaults of one of the many mad creatures that stalk our fair city.

Serving and Protecting Always,

Daniel Shame

Monday, June 13, 2005

Police Commission Meeting

Village President Jan Chaddwick waddles in, wearing a
spring patterned tent. Police Chief Jim shows up wearing
a patriotic eagle tie, matching the red, white, and blue
ribbons handed out before the meeting in his support.
How I ended up with such a ribbon is a mystery, although
I hope tying it around my car antenna prevents me from
being ticketed by the local pigs.

Seems we had a busy month for drunk driving. BSers
were trying hard to drink their problems away. If you
lived in BS, you'd drink too.

The Taser issue was placed under the table, far away
from commissioners' genitals.

Random fact: A new Chevy Impala costs $17,764.
(Mental note: If ever on the Price is Right, remember
this figure.)

The Tahoe, car #3, is being retired and buried next to
the police dog. The turn signals never worked anyway.

Officer Daniel Shame has taken a seminar to learn how
to use a breathalizer. One wonders when he will take
the seminar "How Not to Harrass/Stalk Young Women and/or
their boyfriends."

Officers Kirk and Robbins did something important as I
dazed off. Officer Spock must be on medical leave.
Officer Scotty has been beamed up.

Chief Jim requests another police dog, preferrably a
bitch he can muzzle.

Jim gives kudoes to the Fire Department.
Lightning strikes.
We all die.
Meeting adjourned.

O.C.C. (Yeah, you know me) -
Ernie tells Jim to disallow officers in uniform to
assist in Operation Christmas Care, much to the dismay
or Spring Tent Jan and Curley Headed Sandy.

This just in: Ernie Hildecrust grows some balls.
(Careful Ernie, watch out for the tasers under the

Wile E. Coyote again shunned for towing services.
Road Runner wins again. Beep beep.

Public comments made, ignored by commission.
Lonna Jackson stands up to show the size of her large
breasts. Both of her support the police millage.

The Attorney requests a closed meeting to discuss some
super secret stuff the public does not need to know about.

Meeting adjourned.

For a "straighter" view of the meeting, click here.