The upside of this blog will be that I can just show it in court and instantly get out of jury duty.
The downside is I’ll never find a decent defense attorney.
But I gotta be me and I gotta make it rain truth for my readers.
Here you go:
If you are arrested, indicted and brought to trial then you are fucking guilty as hell.
I covered some of the most heinous crimes ever back in my newspaper reporting days.
The worst was probably having to cover the murder case of a local TV reporter, and friend, who was brutally stabbed to death with a Phillips head screw driver by a stalker.
I remember drinking with her at the bar one night and she was laughing about “her friend” who kept stealing her underwear.
I was suppose to go out with her the night she was murdered. We were going to celebrate her bump up the TV food chain to the Dallas market. It was a big move. We were both really excited about it.
Then some psycho fuck of a Shoney’s chef had a particularly bad day and slipped into the open door of her apartment while she showered and stabbed her to death.
It was incredibly sad. The worst part was that the rest of the news staff were a bunch of idiots so I HAD to cover the murder, the funeral and the trial. Nothing like reading the autopsy report of a friend or having the neighbor tell you that, yes, he heard her screaming but thought she was having sex (she was pretty loud).
Then there is the whole thing where the suspect’s mother calls you non-stop to say that while her son was found covered in blood and hiding in the victim’s closet there is no way he did it. Oh, a mother’s love knows no bounds.
Sorry, I’m totally rambling again and the last blog promised this blog would be funny…
The Illegitimate Rape: The Only Innocent Guy I Saw
Every suspect is guilty.
Well, every suspect except this one black guy from Texas who was accused of raping a chunky army bride.
The trial started pretty normally.
The nice army officer had kissed his wife good bye that morning and headed off to the base.
As soon as he was gone, a black man slipped into his house and proceeded to rape his lily white wife.
She was so scared, she said, that she didn’t make a sound. She was sure this large black guy would kill her. That’s what black guys do, I guess, when they are done raping white women.
In fact, she was so scared of enraging this obvious psycho path that she made herself as compliant as possible which is the reason why there was none of the usual vaginal tearing when a large black man forces his peener into a precious white girl.
So brave. So very, very brave.
The cops testified this guy was not only guilty of being black but he was also a known crack dealer.
HOLY SHIT ON A SHINGLE!!!
That’s the guilty trifecta in Central Texas: black male, crack dealing and raping white married women.
I swear to God one of the jurors volunteered to personally hang the defendant right there in the court room.
“Hey man, your boy is fucked,” I told the defense attorney after the prosecution had finished.
“Just wait,” he told me. “We actually have a surprise coming.”
So he pulls the defendant up on the stand. The defendant is a terrible witness. His reliance on Ebonics alone should have meant death by lethal injection for his brutal assault of the English language.
The defendant said he didn’t rape her. He explained it was an arrangement.
Every day, once the nice army officer left for work, our friendly crack dealer would slip in the back door of the house. He wanted sex. She wanted crack. This had been going on for a month. It was perfect, in his eyes. It was perfect in her eyes too — except for that last time.
That last time they didn’t have any condoms. That last time he thought he could pull out. He couldn’t. He filled that white girl up with his crack dealing seed.
She said it was cool.
But then she started worrying… Black crack dealing sperm mixing with her honky eggs? Segregation might be over in the south but there’s no way to explain a brown baby as it is pulled from between a white girl’s thighs and presented for muster to her dutiful, loving army officer husband.
So the defendant thought she cooked up the rape plot as a cover in case she was pregnant. Mind you, she never actually got pregnant.
The prosecution was all over the defendant. Seriously, what a dick this guy was to even suggest such a thing. What sick fuck crack dealing rapist who doesn’t know his place in the world would bruise the reputation of this lovely, yet biggie sized, Caucasian woman?
Bring in the medical professional…
This is what slayed me.
The doctor got on the stand and began to explain that there was no way the defendant raped the alleged victim.
You see, the defendant had suffered some serious trauma in his early teens involving the cross bar on a bicycle. The lasting result was his penis was broken (Yes, this shit actually happens). The scar tissue caused his wang, when erect, to have a permanent 60-degree bend to the right, just a third of the way down from the head on his shaft.
It was a source of great embarrassment for the defendant. He actually sat there hiding his head on the table while the doctor testified that sex was extremely difficult for him and that “forcing” his mangled junk into anyone was physically impossible.
The jury found him innocent and our chubby white wife had a lot of explaining to do to her very loyal and loving army officer husband.
So what did I learn from that trial?
Some people are innocent?
Sometimes having a busted up dick sounds like a horrible curse but it can keep you out of jail when you are falsely accused of rape so maybe everything happens for a reason?
If I had a little spare crack I could get all the chubby druggie poon I wanted?
I learned that most guys would rather go to prison than admit their dicks don’t work.