Saturday, June 24, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part III

I know, I promised this over a month ago and then failed miserably on the old follow-through. In my defense I didn't realize how difficult it would be to slog through nearly an hour worth of freedom getting wrecked by the worst imaginable tyrannies. I started to feel like I was being detained myself, but then I remembered I was free to go. Fortunately for the sports gambling and stock market bots that frequent this blog I've decided to voluntarily restore joinder with this amazing and critically acclaimed inquisition into the Sovereign Citizen movement, so let's dive right back in. Last time we learned that our birth certificates are bought and sold on the Chinese Dry Goods Exchange, we met an "activist" who failed to defuse a police encounter by offering Pepsi and nearly paid the ultimate price and we discovered that there is such a thing as "too cute" in a dog. Today, we've got even more life lessons, or at least that would be a sensible presumption.

We get off to a hot start by meeting a man who resembles Willy Wonka's far less successful younger brother. Something tells me that we're going to end this segment with a "You lose, good day sir!" Just a wild guess. Anyway, the Wilder Lite is in the middle of a call to some agent of the Beast System. It might be a badge fascist, since he's already getting read his rights from whoever is on the other end of the line. Not the best start to my efforts to buy back my birth certificate from East Asia. "Anything I say can be used against me in a court of law?" outrages the Free Man and this is quickly confirmed.

Slugworth stole my recipe for balloon candy? What?

When asked to clarify his understanding of the situation the resistor declares that his rights emanate from God and not something a police officer reads off a tiny card. This is the hero we don't deserve. "I'm in charge!" he insists, which is right up there with "You can't arrest me" and "I was told I'm special and unique" when it comes to impotent bravado. To punctuate this limp stand against evil he rises out of the chair, giving us a nice close-up of the frontal "area" before walking away from the camera. Low production values and poor blocking a homemade Sovereign Citizen recording? It's more likely than you might expect.

A blanket denial of understanding the plain English that was read off a laminated piece of paper follows, while baby and dog noises from off-camera add to the surreal atmosphere. A question about an "attorney" earns an outraged "What???" Ignorance of that obscure and rarely seen profession is certainly understandable. Suffice it to say, there is no legal representation for the Man They Can't Break. Without any resolution, it's over. This entire segment seemed more like some sort of lazy student film. It's called "Free Wonka," dudemar. It's, like, a commentary on the shackles that bind us to this dying society or whatever. Real hype stuff, I still have to put in some music and fix all the mistakes like that extreme crotch shot in editing.

Back to cuffing one of the losers from last week month while flashing lights threaten to trigger epilepsy. "Where's the blood coming from?" My best guess, and this is just a guess, would be "cuts in your flesh." While the speculation continues the man who refuses to be a barcode for a soulless nightmare state yells semi-coherently about "mob mentality" which would make a little more sense if he was being lynched instead of arrested by duly appointed officers. I mean, it's really a good point, never mind that. Mobs, man. That diffusion of responsibility doe.

Am I under arrest? Am I free to leave?

Time to discuss our rights, namely the right to be an "asshole" after tackling. This was originally going to be the Third Amendment before we got that weird bit about quartering soldiers in our homes. Addition potty mouth follows. "I'll stop when I'm done!" Whoa, totally far-out and with it, man. Take that, establishment. He apparently is done, because we cut away.

Next up is more footage I've already examined in loving detail. The short version is a southern-fried version of the T-1000 breaks a car's window barehanded in pursuit of humanity's last, best hope. Which turns out to be some goof who was "traveling" and refuses to give the papiern. Then he gets zapped with a tazer. Seriously, if you love the genre of Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned, and you shouldn't be reading this if you don't, this one is top shelf. 

Back to our telephone calling, attorney ignoring, suit wearing, wonka-looking son-of-a-gun. He's back out of the chair, leaving more "fix it in post" work for the aspiring filmmaker. Now the stranger on the other end is asking for a "Last Name," probably so he can sell it on the gray market. While this happens we get more waist-down shots. Seriously, I don't really need this in my life.


We leave our daylight caller, again without any resolution, for a news report from the Mainstream Media! Here comes the rigorous honesty, impartial balance and sincere desire to educate and improve the populace, in other words. The fake news du jour focuses on a Sovereign Citizen squatting in a 3 million dollar mansion. The police politely asked this person to leave, but no compliance followed and it's not like we have a legal monopoly on coercive force or anything so here we are. Ordinary slave citizens express bemusement, but what you're looking at is called "freedom," sheeple. It turns out that a woman "took over" the abandoned home. I know, what is even going on here?

  
Believe it or not, she has a so-called "criminal record" for trying to run over Brown Shirts in a traffic stop. And that's all for this highly polished and compelling tale from the local news. Will we use the rule of law to evict this decent and highly sane individual, or will "I do not consent to being arrested!" work for the first time ever? I don't know, it just ends abruptly.

More to come, hopefully in a more timely fashion!


Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.  

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

News You Can't Use: A Bunch Of CIA Staff Got Fired For Stealing Snacks From Vending Machines

I'm CIA. Uh, you don't get to bring your goofy article about how my coworkers are stealing snacks. Or you do, I guess. I'll call it in.

Several CIA contractors were kicked out of the agency for stealing more than $3,000 in snacks from vending machines, according to official documents newly obtained by BuzzFeed News.

When I'm suffering from between meal hunger you can't expect me to destabilize foreign governments or invent new street drugs. Besides, that one dollar, American, price is far too much to pay for salted goods and chocolate bar variations.

The thefts took place starting in the fall of 2012 and continued through March 2013, according to a declassified Office of Inspector General report from October 2013.

I'm losing respect for the "Russian Hackers" in light of the fact that our own super agents couldn't stop their own people from tipping the machine to make it dispense free product, in defiance of claims on that warning sticker.

The "theft scheme" involved unplugging a cable connecting the machines to an electronic payment system called FreedomPay, and then using "unfunded FreedomPay cards" to buy the snacks at no cost.

This clever scheme involved unplugging things. My proposed "tipping the machine" is practically James Bond stuff compared to this low effort caper. Now we know why Castro died of natural causes at a ripe old age.

After being informed of the thefts, the OIG installed "surveillance cameras at several key vending locations where a high occurrence of thefts were taking place," according to the report.

Then they put tape over the lens and we were back to square one. We couldn't topple Ukraine, but when it comes to stealing Kit Kats and Hog Logs we're an unstoppable force.

"Video footage recovered from the surveillance cameras captured numerous perpetrators engaged in the FreedomPay theft scheme, all of whom were readily identifiable as Agency contract personnel," the report states.

Actually the cameras worked, so it appears the total incompetence and laziness is evenly distributed throughout our glorious deep state swamp.

Investigators pinpointed one unidentified contract employee as having masterminded the scheme thanks to "his knowledge of computer networks." 

My extensive computer hacking knowledge taught me that electronics don't work when they're unplugged.

They quickly admitted to the thefts. All then surrendered their CIA badges, were escorted from the building by security, and were fired by their respective contract employers.

No regrets, am I right?

What would happen if I unplugged that snack machine? Would you die?

The OIG referred the matter to the US Attorney's office for Eastern District of Virginia for prosecution, but the Department of Justice declined to press charges. 

If you still think Hillary Clinton is going to do prison time, consider the above sentence.


Komment Korner   

A few candy bars is worth far, far less than a creative person.

Gurl, losing your government job over a damn Snickers? Really bitch?

With a budget of almost 15 billion (if you count black budget as well), it is nice to see them busting a $3000 dollar candy ring.

Shut up already about Hillary.

My grandma once taught me "Never steal anything that isn't worth the salary you'd lose doing the jail time."

Finally, integrety and accountability in government.


Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, June 17, 2017

News You Can't Use: Inside the Rehab Saving Young Men from their Internet Addiction

I've clearly won the battle against internet addiction, at least if my recent run of posting here is any indication (let's pretend it actually is and I don't spend hundreds of hours watching sovereign citizen and weightlifting battle videos). Not everyone is winning this battle over themselves, however. As evidenced by the legions of millennial human derelicts mercilessly bashing the candle in church parking lots with the aid of a tiny glowing screen, we've still got big problems. Fortunately expensive and humiliating "rehab" has been developed and we should soon see the end of electronic onanism in much the same way as the drug "fad" was completely defeated last decade.

By the time Marshall Carpenter’s father broke down the barricaded door of his son’s apartment and physically ripped him away from his electronic devices, the 25-year-old was in a bad way. 

"I'm coming son!" *kicks in door* Here's the product of my loins, covered in Mountain Dew and other far less wholesome fluids, entering hour 79 of a Wikipedia editing marathon.

“I was playing video games 14 or 15 hours a day, I had Netflix on a loop in the background, and any time there was the tiniest break in any of that, I would be playing a game on my phone or sending lonely texts to ex-girlfriends,” Carpenter says.

Horny as hell here, please send help. Well, back to pretending to be an elf. Here, let me turn on the Republican villain fantasy hour. Hey, flappy birds! Then it all collapsed, believe it or not.

We are sitting in a small, plain apartment in a nondescript condo complex in Redmond, Washington, on the outskirts of Seattle. Marshall shares the apartment with other men in their 20s, all of whom have recently emerged from a unique internet addiction rehab program called reSTART Life.

A program of physical culture, speaking only when spoken to, constant ridicule, wall-scaling and making sure the first and last words out of your sewer are "sir" should turn around the Generation with No Chest and get them back to serving proudly as important barcodes within the corporate grid.

“I was basically living on Dr Pepper, which is packed with caffeine and sugar."

Just in case you got confused by the name and thought it was a healthy prescription supplement, I guess.

"I would get weak from not eating but I would only notice it when I got so shaky I stopped being able to think and play well,” he adds.

All those "Game Overs" and "Restart from last checkpoint" were actually trying to warn me that I was slowly killing myself.

His new friends Charlie and Peter nod sagely. Charlie Bracke, 28, was suicidal and had lost his job when he realized his online gaming was totally out of control. He can’t remember a time in his life before he was not playing video games of some kind: he reckons he began when he was about four and was addicted by the age of nine.

The first game of Miss Pac-Man is free. Then see who comes back for more. Then I start charging.

For Peter, 31, who preferred to withhold his last name, the low came when he had been homeless for six months and was living in his car.

Time to plug the computer into the lighter port and keep on saving those fantasy worlds.

“I would stay in church parking lots and put sunshades up on the windows and spend all day in my car on my tablet device,” he says. He was addicted to internet porn, masturbating six to 10 times a day, to the point where he was bleeding but would continue.

What the hell? Yuck.

When he wasn’t doing that, he was so immersed in the fantasy battle game World of Warcraft that in his mind, he was no longer a person sitting at a screen, but an avatar: the bold dwarvish hero Tarokalas, “shooting guns and assassinating the enemy” as he ran through a Tolkien-esque virtual realm.

This subscription vidiot game is just like a complex and heavily layered Christian allegory. Welp, time to bash the bishop for the tenth time today.

And when he wasn’t doing that, he would read online news reports obsessively and exercise his political opinions and a hair-trigger temper in the comment section of The Economist, projecting himself pseudonymously as a swaggering blogger-cum-troll.

Maybe "cum-troll" wasn't the best word choice in light of some other details we were given.

“I was a virgin until I was 29. Then I had sex with a lap dancer at a strip club. That’s something I never thought I would do,” he says.

This is actually marginally less pathetic than the rest of your story, but who am I to decide what your own personal rock bottom is.


After completing the initial $25,000, 45-day residential stage at the main “campus” a few miles away, clients move into the cheaper, off-site secondary phase.

How a guy that was homeless and had destroyed his own genitals via the solitary vice was able to afford this remains a mystery. Special government scholarship programs?

Here they get to share a normal apartment, on the condition that they continue with psychotherapy, attend Alcoholics Anonymous-style 12-step meetings, search for work and avoid the internet for a minimum of six months. 

Your not allowed on the internet. Good luck with your job search.

Mostly they carry only flip phones and have to go to the library when they want to check email.

Think of it as technological methadone.

“I’m taking my life in six-month chunks at this stage. So far I haven’t relapsed into gaming and I’m feeling optimistic,” says Bracke.

Take it six months all at once, great advice for any addict.

Full Article.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

News You Can't Use: Step Into Our Selfie Booth and Help Us Build Our Brand

If there's two ideologies I will aggressively defend with my life and treasure it's narcissism and building brand identity. This is especially true now that this blog has somehow become ground zero for sports wagering "systems" and "pick up artist" get the ladies via hypnosis spam. Clearly I'm on the very brink of leveraging my new status as a dumping ground for terrible and completely bogus goods and services into CEOing for 10/k per week. And when I'm doing it I'll be sure to take lots of pictures, because I'm nature's most incredible creation and you'll never get sick of it.

First there were selfies. Then there were selfie sticks. Now comes a new phase: selfie booths, which some stores and other businesses are adding as a sort of next-generation photo kiosk.

It's really the same old shit we had in malls in the eighties, but we'll pretend this is some exciting new breakthrough because we need at least one story that isn't about Donald Trump's ice cream social blunders.

In the age of ubiquitous social media, these booths and rooms seem to be the latest way to engage customers and build a brand.

Wait, entire rooms? How wasteful do you have to be to have a "selfie room" at your not properly established brand? Just go in there and duck-face, and remember, no one gets your teeth whiter than Alpha N' Omega Brand mouth bleacher.

At several branches of the optical company Warby Parker, myopics unsure if those tortoiseshell frames are really “them” can jump into the on-site selfie booth, snap off some images and email them to friends and family for a second (and third, fourth and fifth) opinion.

Great glasses, dudemar. Let me click the little blue button to formally register my approval. We're "friends."

At Paintbox, a nail studio in New York City, clients can get a manicure, then insert their hands into a photo box where their latest coat of metallic teal will be immortalized.

Latest coat of metallic teal! I'm a serious author!!! I'M WRITING!!!!!!!!!11111oneoneone

And at Doomie’s, a vegan restaurant in Toronto, there is a dedicated selfie room where patrons stand in front of a mirror, snap a photo and post it to social media, often with a caption like “just emerged from my food coma.”

And just got ready to enter my real coma brought on by a poor diet and endless virtue signaling. Look pale and weak at Doomie's, fellow righteous eaters! Document the slow wasting away process with lots of tacky photos!

“When we were planning the restaurant, we wanted clever ways to promote it and differentiate it, and the younger demographic always wants something Instagram-able,” said one of Doomie’s owners, Hellenic Vincent De Paul.
 

The original "Meet your Doom at Doomie's: Come here and die" slogan met with tepid enthusiasm, at best.

The restaurant had an unused basement room, so Mr. De Paul painted the floor white and had the walls papered in cartoons by an artist known as Vegan Sidekick.

Stranger approaches for no discernible reason. "Hey buddy, I'm vegan!" Before you can even formulate a response the Vegan Sidekick pops out. "Me too!"

The novelty has prompted a lot of publicity, including by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.

This is just the thing to air after the hockey game but before the maple syrup documentary.


A lot of people are like, ‘Let’s go to the vegan restaurant with the selfie room.’ ”

It's either that or the other plan of taking turns punching ourselves in the abdomen. I'm still undecided, here.

Here is a sure sign that the selfie booth is officially ready for its close-up: The Tracy Anderson Method, a fitness chain with a high-end cult following — Lena Dunham is an acolyte, and Gwyneth Paltrow is a partner — installed just such a nook in its new 6,000-square-foot studio on East 59th Street in Manhattan.

It's hard to imagine a better endorsement for a gym than "Lena Dunham goes here."

Morgen Schick, a Ford model turned beauty and anti-aging guru, sidled into the bright white photo booth on a recent morning and pondered the tools she could use to embellish her selfie: props in the booth include tiny flags festooned with hearts and a pair of weights — and there are four photographic filters, all designed to flatter like mad.

Surely this will ward off the grim specter of death following a life completely wasted.

“That’s not bad,” said Ms. Schick, 52, examining herself on the screen before clicking. “There isn’t a filter to make me look 25, but that’s O.K. We’re embracing the now.”

This was followed by three hours of weeping and wailing.

Full Article. 

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, May 13, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part II

Previously on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met a nervous weedhead, a man who honestly thought public freakouts were protected under The Unwritten Laws and a guy who looked like what the Chucky doll from "Child's Play" would become if he was somehow made fully human and aged into a socially maladroit forty-something. Now we're back and it's time again to create joinder with these amazing patriots fighting for our sacred rights. Rights like not having license plates, speeding, screaming at other people for no reason, you know, all that Tommy Jefferson stuff.

Instead of the customary traffic stop we start with a face-cam of a free woman of the land talking directly to us. Sanity and coherent reasoning are going to be in very short supply during this monologue. She discusses "breaking even" on "strawman bills" and I'm not even sure how to keep ridiculing this drivel. This footage is what would happen if you took PCP and then watched one of those Sunday morning political snooze-fests. "Are we talking about rezoning or redistricting?" asked the balding middle-age suit as he steps out of the television and transforms into a dozen rainbow colored birds of paradise dripping blood from their wings as they fly around the room in formation. Come on, we've all been there.

The exciting discussion of "bills" continues. I guess the idea here, and this is almost pure conjecture, is that what you pay to the state should only be just enough to keep the services running and no civil servant should be allowed to have a comfortable lifestyle as a result of this taxation. This thesis largely falls apart when she gives examples like "A bastard lost at sea." I honestly have no idea. Helpfully, some Twilight Zone music is inserted over this deranged misunderstanding of the First Principles of government.

We're then told that birth certificates are used as "collateral" following the "Bankruptcy of 1933." I'm not sure how that would work for people born after that forgotten historical tragedy, but on the other hand I have a reasonable grasp on what we call "reality." The good news is you call file some bureaucratic paperwork to get your "living soul" back, so take that FDR. Make sure your name is in all capital letters, though, because otherwise it won't work and the devil will get you.

There was no actual "ownage" in this segment, but wow, I really feel "woke" after all of that.

The government took my soul, but I got it back by writing my name in big letters on some form.

Incredibly, the next resistor has already been covered in glorious detail about a year ago. Are we running out of strategic "Am I being detained" reserves? Please say it isn't so. Anyway, it's our friend from "Cun-adda" who ran afoul of the Canadian version of Dirty Harry and failed to defeat maple leaf tyranny. The only difference is this version added some little animations, including "Thug Life" and the 420 sniper rifle. Whether this is an improvement on the original footage is a matter for the philosophers to examine, we're moving on.


Next up we get an awkward rotated shot of lights flashing hypnotically in the darkness while our unseen freeman insists that his arrest is actually "corporate policy." "Yeah...gonna need you to come to the jail on Saturday this week." He calls the officer "good sir" and questions the need for the lights, since there is no emergency.  The camera keeps jerking around and it might be time to use that airsickness bag, good sir. Forsooth, thou art a knave and scoundrel badge heretic, with no cause for thine cherries and blueberries.

The argument continues. "We are activists!" Give the cop a Pepsi, I'm told that calms 'em right down. "I do this all the time!" Truly you are a national treasure, good sir. Now it's time to walk away because "I control the situation!" Can you hazard a guess how this will end?

You're right, it's time to kiss pavement, while insisting that "I'm not under arrest." My eyes are closed, how can you see me? Pathetic and entertaining whining follows as Democracy Dies in the Darkness. There's some profanity (So edgy! My square button-down mind just got BLOWN) and the cuffs are applied. "You ever hear of commercial lean?" Well, have you, punk? More cussing and acting out follows. This is the hero of our time.

He actually has the stones to say "Ignorance of the law is no excuse!" While on his stomach and cuffed. Then it abruptly ends, without ever finding out the fate of the potty mouth who stood up.

You have no right to set up this jar, it violates the Paris accords of 1784.

Now it's time for a young lady who is also being detained by fascists. We're told a "dog unit" is on the way. Just like you, all obedient to like, tyranny, man. We discuss the reasons for this unlawful usurpation and it remains unclear what, exactly, is going on. Our free lady of the land does threaten to call 911, earning a laugh from the officer. I'm being harassed by the police, time to call the police. There are logical problems.

More attempts to get at the heart of the motives for this illegal and immoral detention are derailed by references to the cuteness of a dog. It turns out our subject was "nervous" which is now an arrest-able offense, it would seem. Obviously the missing scene between the awkward initial interaction and the current situation must have involved the usual sovereign citizen escalation of something that would immediately end if you demonstrated some very basic cooperation with fair authority, I mean pitiful consent to the machinery threatening to devour our souls.

Am I being detained?

Our heroine decides to initiate a twenty minute time limit, but is immediately vetoed by the jackboot patrol. The tool of a corrupt and evil system even threatens to "spike your tires" which I'm guessing doesn't mean trying to somehow pour booze into them. Oddly, the car is what is actually being held and she's free to walk away. I'm not sure how this works. Can we just park it in a cell for a few weeks, since it's what you're angry at?

Now to debate where one is allowed to stand. "Your little thing is over there!" I don't want to know. This earns hostility, but lawsuits are threatened in return. All because my dog was cute and I'm naturally twitchy. Now for the assault, complete with lots of hysterical screaming, some of which calls to mind Goofy cartoons. This is how freedom dies. "What the [fudge] is wrong with you! Are you retarded?" That's ableist. Now I don't know who to side with in this narrative.

The victim of the monopoly on violence keeps persisting with more screaming. "Get it out of me!" That's what she said! Well, it is. More arguing over who was in the way and a suggestion that she might be in trouble for assaulting a federal officer. If you want to be happy for the rest of your life never make a pretty dog your pet. Also, she got tased. That's what was in her, electrodes. Not penis. I'm glad we've settled that. Part Three next week, friends.


Komment Korner  

They should call in P BARNES for all these taz them and they likely live in their mom and step dads basement anyway bahaha    

lol she sounded like Goofy falling off a cliff  

good sir, these people are idiots.......good sir

LOL that woman with the teaser get it out of me in that arnold schwarzenegger

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse". I have a sneaking feeling he's going to be hearing those exact words from a judge.

I thought these dumbasses were exclusively American


Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

News You Can't Use: Couple Caught Having Oral Sex In Dining Room At McDonald’s

Coming up with the perfect night out can get hard (this is the first of many double entendres this story will produce, the rest will be ignored, leaving the schoolgirl giggling implied). You could go all out and be creative, maybe a hot air balloon, scuba diving or going behind the dumpster of the last remaining video rental store in America. However, as the kids say, let's please to be keeping it real when doing the needful. After all, these sexually charged interactions are supposed to be about genuine human connection, shared emotions and feelings, birds suddenly appearing, that sort of thing. With this in mind, performing the French Act in a fast food dining room under the shadows of the children's play area is just as good as any idea network television might try to subliminally insert (ha ha, insert. Whoops, sorry) into your mind.

Meet Conrad Jablecki. 

I'd really rather not. Even considering he's the real-life version of "I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom." Perverts in the top ten, please allow me to bump thee.

The 30-year-old Maryland man has been charged with indecent exposure and open lewdness after he engaged in oral sex with a woman in the dining room of a Pennsylvania McDonald’s, cops report.

You can tell a society is corrupt by all the laws, man. You can't legislate morality, stop trying. Besides, we can't even FEED everyone, but have time to worry about nightstick polishing in Mayor McCheese's city. Our priorities, man. You can't hug your children with nuclear arms.

According to investigators, Jablecki and a woman--who has yet to be apprehended--trysted publicly on a Thursday afternoon in March. 

It's customary for the gentleman to shoulder all the open lewdness charges on a date, unless you agreed in advance to split them.

A McDonald’s worker spotted the duo’s illicit activity and chased them from the restaurant in York.

This is the citizen of the year. When I was flipping burgers I was mostly in a stuporous haze of self-pity and alcohol hangover effects and not exactly on high-alert for catching illicit activity.

Jablecki, who lives about 40 miles south of the McDonald’s, was charged Monday in a District Court criminal complaint.

A one hour drive just to perform sex acts during the calorie load. Maybe there's an In-N-Out Burger closer to your home. Let your fingers do the walking, dudemar.

Just thought I'd stop in for some of the old in-out, in-out. Er, Burgers, that is.

Jablecki’s rap sheet includes convictions this year for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct. 

On tonight's episode of The Petty Crime Profiler...

In 2012, Jablecki was sentenced to 60 days in jail and placed on probation for two years in connection with charges that he exposed himself to a woman and her five-year-old daughter on a Maryland beach.

Genuine class.

According to his Facebook page, Jablecki works for a landscaping firm.

Really? My guess would have been medical doctor, contract lawyer or maybe senator.

In posts last year, Jablecki wrote about seeking “A bad bitch W/ mean head game” and “a Girl who is a SupaFreak+Funny+Down to Earth+spontaneous+Drama-Free+Sense of Humor+Easy to conversate with jus talk About Everything an Anything!”

In fairness, it might be difficult to conversate and/or jus talk when your mouth is full.


Komment Korner  

I guess they were overcome by the romantic ambiance of their beloved Golden Arches.

Is that what Mickey D's means by "Real Grown-up Taste"?

A real Lady Gaga

he must have voted for Hillary and is getting his reward B.J. Hint for the police "Madonna"

Land of the free and home of the brave. I am so proud to be an American.


Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.   

Saturday, May 6, 2017

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION

I used to have a difficult time relating to the pathetic, broken losers who camp out waiting for a sequel to be released, wasting the precious gift of life anticipating an escapist fantasy that is sure to be a disappointment because of its inherent limitations. I guess I still do, but on the other hand I'm mad hype for the long-awaited second edition of sovereign citizens trying their "this is not the car without plates you're looking for" mind tricks only to suffer the ignominy of being "owned." With another forty-plus minutes to get through it looks like this will be my new Saturday night thing.

Unlike most Part Twos we don't waste any time catching the viewer back up or explaining the premise for newcomers. Instead we're already deep in the conflict between Free Men of the Land and the 1984 nightmare state as an unseen fascist politely asks for ihnen papiern, bitte. Of course, it can't be that easy, otherwise we might not get wrecked. Our full-faced hero of the pound-sign resistance explains that he's "the human being that owns the entity." Could this be the new word magic? Just call your car an "entity" like in one of those PG-13 horror films about hauntings and you should be off the hook. It's not like you're going to get your window broken or zapped with a taser or bracelets behind the back, that's for sure.

For all your traveling needs.

We get a request for insurance and, incredibly, compliance follows. Shouldn't you be citing the Articles of the Confederation at this point? Come on, man. He even shows his license to the friendly face of totalitarian evil! Just as I'm about to lose all hope (We are the dead, etc.) the officer notes that he's "never seen a license like this before?" Excuse me officer, but this License to Oogle is pretty standard issue and thoroughly legitimate. I also have a "Female Body Inspector" card if you need to see that.

We skip ahead, mercifully, to our anti-hero explaining that his narcotics are legitimate prescription Colorado Cools, and as such perfectly legal. Still he's "under arrest for marijuana." Meanwhile the goon squad slips on a black glove, no doubt in preparation for massive Constitutional violations. What about, like, my right to get nice and evenly baked? Is that even factoring into the decision process here?

 I'm gonna need you to smell the glove.

Our identification figure continues to argue his "lawful right" to get blown, but it's clear this is a losing battle, what with the lack of case law from the eighteenth century being cited. No wonder they call it dope. The door is opened and the full-figured champion of the sacred freedoms of this land insists he isn't being arrested, despite considerable evidence to the contrary. The owning finally occurs as our hemp smoking friend is shoved into the side of the car with a satisfying "Ow!" Then it's back to insisting his Satan Weed is actually "medicinal" before being driven to the ground. 

"I'm not resisting!" is said repeatedly while the Chong this generation deserves flops like a freshly landed halibut on the pavement. The cuffs are put on while he continues to rant ineffectually about his right to get lit. Another weedhead defeated, good work officer.

We jump to the next vignette, where our unseen narrator records a police car pulling up with obscene resignation. Heavy breathing follows. Seriously, we get a lengthy piece of video that is nothing but painful sounding huffing and puffing while the police state leisurely gets into position. Apparently the free citizen's own erratic behavior (walking into traffic, screaming, etc) provoked the arrival of the goon squad, a likely story. This is tyranny. Despite "not consenting to contact" the no-nonsense cop, I mean criminal with a badge, demands a "favor." I wonder how this will play out?

 I bet this guy wants to hear all about admiralty law.

"Step away from the bag!" Meanwhile more officers are arriving. You wanted attention, now you have it. No one wants to discuss probable cause, and our cameraman is instead told to sit down. No way, beast system. I have a right to scream menacing nonsense at random passerby. Some barely legible red text on the screen provides a massive spoiler for what is about to happen (Assault!) and sure enough after trying to leave it's time to roll on the ground with help from the oppression squad. Sadly the camera got turned off by the officers during the struggle (how convenient!) and you'll just have to imagine the worst, I guess.

New scene, a Ford Truck from the distant past, before the average cab height was about ten feet in the air, disgorges a scruffy sovereign citizen. He's told to "stand at the front of the car" but comes back with an impressive "Why?" Checkmate, dictatorship.

Another rejected Travis Bickle audition. 

Ford Truck Driver is told to "have a seat" on the car. What is it with gestapo wanting us to sit down, man? It's bad for the circulation, unlike my "medicine." The last free man complies, showing off his impressive mane of lightly washed hair and general slovenly appearance. Apparently this handsome rake was involved in a "hit and run" according to witnesses. How can I use my incorrect reading of the Mayflower Compact to get me out of this one? If your answer was speaking semi-coherently about who exactly made the allegations than congratulations, you share a mind with free man adult Chucky doll here.

We discuss the lack of communication and even call for a "rewind" while making the appropriate circular hand gestures. Then the disheveled traveler reaches in his pockets, prompting a stern rebuke. Now it's time to put those same hands on the hood, but the champion of the right to crash into someone and drive off actually has the stones to say "Shoot Me!" Yeah, if only.

He finally assumes the position, dropping some unseen item (A miniature Constitution? My legal joints? A non-legitimate license?) in the process. An attempt to open a forum on the meaning of "probable cause" is swatted aside (A witness statement might, just might, qualify). "Are you listening?" Next thing we know, this Brad Pitt look-a-like is getting manhandled by uniformed thugs while continuing to mutter inanities during the cuffing.

Are you even listening, dude?

Another car pulls up, complete with point-of-view action driving. The production values, they keep getting better and better. The third officer rushes up with a taser. "Tase me!" is offered as one last act of defiance, but we're a little less reluctant to deploy the zapper as opposed to the hand cannon. First some painful electricity, than an awkward fall to the ground that looked really painful for the Free Man. Another police car pulls up. The scene ends with no less than four puppets of a criminal state working to subdue this goof. This is my special day where I got to be the Big Boy, I'll always cherish it. 

I'm only eight minutes in. According to my pocket calculator that means we might do five of these. The "Holiday Season" has come early.


Komment Korner  

For me busting the window is like busting a load

I got a dui once because I had a prescription that was a day expired.
 
As a cop, as soon as someone starts giving you a bunch of legal terms, you know you might have to tase an idiot today

the second guy looks like a human form of Chucky.

sees the time "Oh I should probably go to bed" sees a 42 minute video of sovereign idiots "NAH"

love watching these idiots getting there ass beat

Jesus christ, what HAPPENED to the guy @4:00? He looks like a goddamn manikin and his lips aren't moving. He's gotta be either high or drunk off his ass.

I THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! I'm not a part of your system!!


Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.