This will be a short post, because I'm tired and want to sleep.  However, I was getting crap (prematurely, I might add) for not updating promptly.

We received an ATL (attempt to locate [it replaces the old and tired 'all points bulletin' of yesteryear]) on a stolen vehicle tonight.  We were grabbing drinks at the local 7-11 and listening intently because the ATL got better and better with every damn detail.  The suspect was described as a white male wearing dark clothing with long hair (redneck...or...to be fair...possibly a Night Ranger enthusiast).  It was then claimed that he was probably drunk (redneck) and carrying a rifle (hillbilly/redneck).  They also told us that the suspect was most likely fleeing the scene of a domestic violence incident.  He had stolen the vehicle while it was sitting idling.  And the vehicle he had chosen to steal?  A milk delivery truck.  Billy Bob yanked the milkman's van!  It was initially reported as a possible carjacking.  And as serious as this crime was...I still couldn't help but watch that scene from 'Super Troopers' play across my brain.--The one from the very beginning when the fake bandit with the bandana and long hair steals the cop car and shouts to the pot-heads in the back, "You boys like Me-hee-co?  Woooooo!!"

Just to solidify the situation in your minds, let me say it again.  A drunk, redneck bastard carrying a rifle who had just gotten done beating up either his wife/sister (both the same person, mind you) or his brother or paw had seized control of a peacefully idling milk truck.  Huh.  I'm used to weird shit, but that's one of the better ones, I think.

Well, the great thing about rednecks stealing milk trucks is that the vehicle he had chosen was more than a little conspicuous.  It's not like the calls we get on the stolen black Honda Accord left warming up in the driveway or in the parking lot of 7-11 (btw...how can you idiots POSSIBLY be surprised when that happens?  You left it running with the keys in it unattended.  You mouth-breathers can lick my sack.).  We hear those and immediately give up hope.  Yeah!  Ok!  We'll run every damn black Honda we see.  All 50,000 of them.  Instead of wasting OUR time, how about you call your insurance company and let them know you're retarded.  Of course...anyone who's known you for more than a few moments will probably know that...so calling to let them know might be redundant.  Regardless, stop bothering US.  Your Honda is already being stripped in a chop shop.  Deal with it.  If you can't tell, I have very little sympathy for those whose problems are caused solely by their own ineptitude.  So...when we get an ATL on a stolen milk truck from a very small and specific local dairy company, the odds of finding it shoot significantly higher. 

It took about two minutes for one of the other agencies to find it.  And since I never got on scene, the short version is that the guy didn't run, he was taken into custody without incident and the gun and truck were recovered.  At about the time we were listening to them call it out, a friend of mine sent me a text message to ask if we'd had any good calls so far.  It was mildly amusing to be able to write back and tell her that we were listening to a possible chase for a hijacked milk truck. 

And I'm headed to bed.  But before I go and before your horoscope, here's another public service announcement from your neighborhood piggies to the public.  Phrases to avoid when dealing with the cops:

"Here's the thing..."

"I'm not gonna lie to you..."

"Let me be honest with you..."

"No, I didn't..."  (This one pertains to ANY conceivable usage of that phrase.  Just shaddup.)

"Those aren't my pants..."

"This isn't my car..."

"How old are you?"  (I actually get that one fairly frequently.  And the answer I give them out loud is, 'old enough' with a SILENT 'to beat your ass senseless' coming immediately after.)

"I don't have my insurance card with me, but I PROMISE I have insurance."

And my favorite...  "Two beers." 

Here's your horoscope (it's even unusually right for the date):

The stars tell that next week will be full of trials and tribulations at work. They also spell out a particularly lewd if not funny limerick, if you read Farsi.  (www.theonion.com)