Paying for your "booze" to create "black outs" is a bit of a trick bag, but what other options are there? Well, for a semi-literate piece of human garbage who believes there's a divine hand behind making bond after being arrested for theft, the solution is obvious. You just steal, get your wrist slapped and even gain minor "celebrity" courtesy of your horrible behavior that damages society. I mean, we've all winced at those ridiculous Gray Goose price tags, so this scumbag is sort of like a hero or something. This is civil disobedience against the high cost of "gettin' yo goose on."
A Louisiana woman yesterday surrendered to police after video of her brazen theft of booze from a Shreveport liquor store was released by a local crime stoppers group.
"Gentlemen, I have something to confess. I stole those bottles of night train. I now take up the suffering so my soul can be purified and redeemed in the crucible of just punishment."
Sekonie Jones, 37, was booked on a misdemeanor theft charge and subsequently bonded out of jail.
Well, it's not like we can punish everyone and we need to make room for political criminals.
As seen in the above surveillance footage, Jones last week swiped numerous bottles of alcohol from the Thrifty Discount Liquor & Wines store. It appears that security personnel were familiar with Jones since cameras began following her upon her entrance into the business.
Despite this vigilance, a morbidly obese woman with an I.Q. somewhere in the seventies was still able to pull off this incredible caper.
Jones--wearing a t-shirt with the words “Too Glam To Care”--stuffed bottles in her bag, bra, and underwear. Jones appears to have been aided by a younger woman.
I love the New York Dolls and I really don't care what you think about that.
The investigators were familiar with Jones since her lengthy rap sheet includes convictions for disturbing the peace; criminal damage; driving without a license; drinking in public; and five separate theft cases.
I'm sure she'll learn her lesson this time, unlike the previous fifty arrests.
In a Facebook post Wednesday, Jones declared that, “I hustle that's what I do ain't nobody gone give me SHIT.” She added, “please mind ur business and stay out mines please I'm going to turn myself in and bond out like I have before.”
Another public school success story.
In posts this morning, Jones wrote, “it s true what I did and it is what it is never did I think it would be this big” and “Lord i wake up i got 125 friend request, 2different news reporters want an interview with me ppl was willing to bond me out,lord I never would have thought this would end up like this.”
Friend requests and offers to fill local news slots with "look at this human horror show" train-wreck interviews? Truly, we have witnessed the Just Hand of God.
What happens when you combine "everyone is a winner" societal delusion with a growing tendency to weaponize our legal system after you still somehow catch a case of hurt feelings? I don't know, but it could hypothetically express itself via a failed American Cricket player suing his high school coach after getting the old pine ride. Incredibly, this has actually occurred, so here we are discussing how litigation can now get you out on the field where you'll then presumably be handed success by a fully compliant opponent, just like that one lucky kid who was dying of cancer.
A former Los Altos High School student and baseball player is suing the school district and his former coach for hundreds of thousands of dollars because the coach repeatedly benched him.
If only I'd known that failing to succeed in amateur sports was something that could be monetized. Instead of a handful of bad memories I'd have a cart full of petrodollars.
According to the suit, the school’s head varsity baseball coach, Gabriel Lopez, repeatedly refused to let 17-year-old Robbie Lopez, no relation, play throughout his senior year.
Sadly, we can't add "reverse nepotism" to this already amazing Trial of the Century.
The suit claims this constituted a pattern of “harassment and bullying.”
"I think I'll have you come in as a late-game defensive substitute instead of starting." This is bullying! I'm a victim! Safe space, safe space!!! Now, where's my six figure settlement for this crime against humanity?
Hacienda La Puente Unified athletic director Andrew Formano and assistant superintendent of human resources Jill Rojas both said they could not comment on the matter. Gabriel Lopez did not respond to a request for comment.
Stone-walling and "I have no comment," it's now something your high school sports concern can do!
The boy’s father, Robert Lopez II, believed the coach’s decision to bench his son throughout the season was because he complained to the district’s athletic director after a disagreement over a fundraising game.
If you've ever seen baseball, with the endless downtime and glacial "looks like you're out, too" progress, you know there's plenty of opportunities to complain about fundraising until we get sick of it and decide to punish you with reduced bat-time.
“For over four (4) months and 14 games, (Robbie Lopez) has been benched and not the opportunity to show his offensive or defensive capabilities,” the suit states.
After over five (5) minutes of reading this I've mostly lost my faith in humanity capabilities.
Michael Ponce, the lawyer representing Robbie Lopez and his parents, said the prolonged period of relegating him to the bench is “an abuse of the coach’s discretion.”
I'm not sure how, since that's something the coach is supposed to regulate, but on the other hand we're all gonna get rich.
“These are repeated actions by the coach, which we feel, my client and I, as well as his father, feel are intentional. They’re targeted against (my client) specifically.”
Instead of drawing the line-up out of a hat, like you're supposed to, he specifically targeted individuals.
Don't force me to "lawyer up."
Ponce referred to a recent case in South Carolina in which a cheerleader claimed she was bullied by her coach, who made “derogatory comments about (the student’s) private body parts, causing other students to laugh at” her.
...and this is clearly the exact same thing. As the cheer team might say: Bubble gum, bubble gum. Pop. Pop. Pop. We think your frivolous lawsuit is a flop.
Ponce claimed what happened to his client was “more egregious” than the South Carolina example.
Yeah. Really.
But in a phone interview, Ponce did not give any examples of derogatory comments the coach made to the teenager. And no examples of insulting comments by the coach were presented in the lawsuit.
Being forced to pinch-hit, it's similar to derogatory remarks about your sex parts making everyone laugh at you, maybe worse.
So let's assume the kid is a good player and the lawsuit has merit. What would propose as a solution then?
About time someone sues that school. Had my run in 4 years ago in Football. Went to the office and they just told me that the coaches make all the decisions. Now they school can pay for that BS. All they did was give the ball to 3 kids the whole season. The Center, the TB then the running back.
You do what the coach says. That is rule no. 1, 2, 3, and 4. And the fifth rule is repeat rules 1-4. Nonsense.
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
Last time on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met Wily Wonka's less successful but equally self-righteous younger brother, a hero of the common man swore impotently while getting cuffed, the Alabama T-1000 smashed a window and some crazy woman took over a house because possession is nine-tenths and all that. Now we're back after another long break (It's summer! There's warm weather, fun beach activities and I get to show off my arms in public!) and it just keeps getting better, I will assume based on no evidence whatsoever.
Either way, we hit the ground running with yet another Article Four Free Inhabitant running afoul of highway revenue collectors. Our new hero announces he's not turning off his "live stream," in a bizarre sing-song voice no less, all but giving us notarized proof of his membership in Generation Nothing. We're always "streaming" those misfortunes, we hold camera phones like protective amulets and generally use technology as a stand-in for old fashioned disassociative psychoses. He's also not going to obey the instructions of the jack boot squad, but you're a Sovereign Citizen and Free Man of the Land, so that was already implied. The more of a grueling and violent ordeal we can make this routine stop, the more we have stood up for our sacred freedom to drive like a lunatic or not bother with license plates, these being some of most basic rights given by nature and nature's God.
Soon to be the fifth face on Mount Rushmore.
The bespectacled traveler refuses a request to get out of the vehicle, claiming he "does not feel safe." It's pretty disappointing stuff, actually. This is the part where you're supposed to explain how your car isn't really a car and a treaty from 1745 gives you the right to run stop signs. Despite this breach of Free Man decorum the unseen officer promises a trip to the green bar motel if compliance isn't obtained. Forget you, man, it's totally worth it to spent time in the jug if it means I don't have to voluntarily open a car door. Or, "For resisting WHAT!?!" if you prefer.
But it's a lawful order! More like an awful order, right? Whoa man, far out. Is that freedom rock you're playing, by the way?
Sadly, the door is opened after some more threats and the best the defeated livestreamer can manage is timidly asking if the fascists would stop yelling. Now they broke you, man. Next thing you'll be talking about how much you love Big Brother. Anyway, here's your ticket, time to sign it like the meaningless corporate bar code you've become. "Why are you being so aggressive?" Well, I got the idea from a cheer I heard at a high school football game.
Bubble gum, bubble gum, pop pop pop, we think your Orwellian police state is a flop. Important note: pom poms may be required for this cheer, consult with your coach.
We don't get an answer to why the aggression is occurring. Instead, there's stereo demands to sign the ticket from both unseen stasi. More back and forth, plus there's some debate over a flashlight and the decision is finally made not to sign this contract with the devil after all. Yes! Down with the beast system! The fact that you briefly doubted yourself makes you more a hero, not less of one. Then the strong-arming and thuggery kicks off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tonight on "Arresting Joey Lawrence."
"Stop resisting!" Fade to black.
Without even pausing to reflect on the amazing morality play we just witnessed it's time for another confrontation with the so-called legitimate authorities. My professor told me to question everything and I accepted that uncritically. In this confrontation our identity figure is already under arrest, so we can skip the "Am I being detained?" foreplay and get to the good stuff (glass breaking, tasers, pitiful wailing, etc). A police dog (two legs bad, four legs even worse) apparently detected contraband in the means of travel and the Free Man now asks to confront the dog. I'm not even joking. For real, this happens. Who is a furry tool of tyranny? You are, boy! Yes, you are!
No pasaran, dog! Bad dog!
The discussion turns to the planned removal of the man who did nothing wrong from his conveyance, countered with more blanket denials of any wrong-doing. It's now time for what we all came for: the destruction of automotive windows. Sometimes I think the whole Sovereign Citizen movement was a psy-op created by Auto Glass Specialists to drive business their way. "Close your eyes!" Yup, here it comes baby. You ready for it? Uhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Our humble narrator adds an annotation stating he didn't see anything else because his eyes were closed. Will peek-a-boo prevent this ridiculous usurpation? We're about to find out. Using what looks like one of those little hammers a doctor employs to test your knee response, the faceless representative of totalitarian nightmares smashes the glass and then immediately deploys the taser! This is the Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned equivalent of the double jackpot. The blind guardian of freedom starts howling and I think I need a cigarette.
Hey, it's a quick update on the crazy lady who took over a house from last time! The fake news anchor informs us she's learning "how much time she'll spend behind bars" so I guess that whole "move into a house that's for sale and start living in it" master plan might have had some weaknesses. Still, our undocumented homeowner is claiming to be "Moorish-American" and that "laws don't apply to her" so I'm sure the judge will ignore the most basic first principles of property ownership that our entire civilization was built upon because she said the magic words.
For now, we're left in suspense.
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
It's time for another story that just screams "societal health" and "Edward Gibbon didn't write about this sort of thing." It's an amazing tale about how ostensible adults (millennials, so call that one a push, to be fair) have been reduced to special smash rooms to cure the ennui that sometimes arises from having "whatever my professor told me" as a unifying belief system. Yes, it's time to wreck material objects to temporarily cure the massive void within and if we can earn a few federal reserve play-money notes in the process, well we are capitalists again now that whats-his-name went back to his native Hawaii or Indonesia or whatever.
Smashing things may not seem at first blush to be a winning idea to wrap a business around.
A demolition business? Removing decrepit buildings to make way for new and better construction. That's just, like, not a winning idea. Stick with this B-boy Crew, that's where the real money is.
Since March, however, nearly 1,500 people have shown up to break housewares, electronics and furniture at the Wrecking Club, two reinforced rooms in the basement of a building in the garment district of Manhattan.
New York don't play, sucka. My idea of weekend recreation is smashing a fudging microwave and putting the boots to a living room set. You in the garment district now, fool. Get out while you still got yo' life.
Many of this number are couples looking for something more piquant than the usual date-night fare, said Tom Daly, the Wrecking Club’s proprietor.
I've finally found a good place to take my "fatal attraction" head-case. You can just pretend you're killing my daughter's rabbit and then cooking it.
“That’s the cool thing about addressing an instinct,” he said on a recent steamy afternoon. “Everyone’s got it.”
Nihilistic and pointless destruction, the common glue that unites all of humanity. Who hasn't wanted to kick the stuff out of a love seat or whatever? If you said "no," you're a liar.
Last fall, politics drove the business at the Anger Room, which opened in Dallas in 2008.
A city populated by costumed junkies, mole people and dangerous break-dancers and the one that shot Kennedy. These are the best sources of that highly non-decadent modern culture.
Clients showed up by the hundreds to batter human effigies of Hillary Clinton and Donald J. Trump.
We've said it before and we'll say it again: democracy is bad.
“We’ve helped a lot of angry couples,” said Stephen Shew, the owner. (His date-night package, $70 for two electronic devices and 20 items of crockery, from lawn gnomes to ceramic vases, is wildly popular on Valentine’s Day.)
Pleasuring yourself while openly weeping is also popular on that day, but I'm not sure how I can monetize that.
A starter session costs $30 for 30 minutes with two or three electronic devices and a bucket of dishes.
You're paying for your time with the dishes. Whatever you mutually agree to do while together has nothing to do with the "donation" you already paid.
Die, flatware!!!
Sometimes people donate things, Mr. Daly said, adding that everything smashed at the Wrecking Club is properly recycled.
See, it's not wasteful idiocy from adult babies. We're saving the environment.
Mr. Daly has happy memories of demolishing a swing set in his parents’ backyard, at their request, after he and his siblings had left home, and these sparked his imagination.
I have warm fuzzy memories of busting swings.
“I wanted it to have a Brooklyn-in-the-1990s vibe. I think he crushed it.”
