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Cops Live!

Saturday, July 11th, 2009

Cops was witnessed live by a stunned and rapt audience.

When Emily stopped by for a visit this evening, she - nor we - were expecting a live Cops! show right in our backyard.

We are dog sitting our friend, Ken's, German Shepherd, Samantha, for the weekend.  Baret had stepped outside with Sam to let her potty, when he comes running back in excitedly calling to Emily and me.

"There's crazy shit going on outside - hurry!  The cops are chasing some guy around the neighborhood!"

The three of us run back outside and as we step outside the gate of our patio, we see a police officer off to the left standing and looking around.  Then he takes off behind some of the townhomes.  As he's gone, Baret begins to explain what he had seen to us.

"I was walking Sam at the homes the next set over and I saw the cops talking to a young woman who was crying; I think it's a domestic dispute thing.  Suddenly, a guy came running out of the house and as he ran past them the cops took off after him."

As he is telling us the story, we see a young man come through some bushes on the right side of the townhomes (opposite from where the cop had been standing and had taken off from).  He was wearing a white, sleeveless shirt that was stained all the down from with a red liquid and knee-length red shorts (like something you might work out in) and had on red and white shoes.

"That's him!" Baret exclaimed.

The townhomes we live in are set up so that behind each is a covered parking area; across a semi-circle driveway-of-sorts are the covered parking areas of the homes directly across from us.  Each parking area leads to a fenced, private patio connected to the back of each home.  We watched as the perp darted into a patio of one of our neighbors who wasn't home at the time.  He shut the gate door quietly behind him.

Naturally, Baret ran and alerted the officer to where the guy had hidden.  We could not see in the patio, but we could see the top of the officers head as he approached the guy - who was apparently crouched in the corner of the patio.  Suddenly, the cop's head went to the left and right, as if he was trying to block the suspect from running again - all to no avail.  The guy ran around him and back out into the communal parking area.

He ran over a grassy spot that connecting two of the parking garages and stumbled as one of his unlaced shoes started to come off.   As he did so, the cop ran up and - swinging out a long leg - kicked him.  Baret thought he caught his chest, I thought for sure he'd clipped his chin, and Emily insisted he had kicked him in the lower part of his face.

Regardless, the guy fell and his other shoe went flying.  The cop kicked him once more as he tried to scramble up.  The cop scuffled with him a little but got him handcuffed, then turned him over and maced his face to prevent him from trying to get up and run again.

The guy rolled around on the ground moaning and mumbling, "Why'd you do that, man?" as the police officer radioed for back-up.

There must have been other officers already in the area looking for this guy as about three cop cars suddenly pulled up and officers were mulling about the area almost immediately.

My friend and neighbor, Amanda, pulled up as this was going on and gave me a look through her driver-side window that said, "WTF is going on?!"  She parked and came over as we caught her up to speed on our neighborhood drama.

Another neighbor walked up and as we were re-telling the story to him, we noticed the perp sitting on the ground - his eyes now less blurry from the mace - looking over at us and saying something to the cops.  No telling what and hopefully he'll be too messed in the head to remember or realize that we gave his hiding spot  away!

They put his shoes in a plastic bag and picked up a small, black object next to them that Emily said was a knife.

One of the officers that came up right after the first had the guy on the ground had an icebag he kept holding to his face.  We weren't sure what had happened to him, but there may be more to the story as when Emily left about 10 minutes later, she called to say there were still a bunch of cop cars in the area at the entrance to our subdivision - perhaps there is another guy they're still looking for?

It was all pretty wild and it happened so fast!  Honestly, we - normally - live in a nice, quiet, and fairly safe neighborhood (as safe as anything in Baton Rouge is right now, anyway).  Hopefully that is all the excitement we'll witness here in our neighborhood for awhile!

The (Truly) Crazy Neighbor

Monday, August 18th, 2003

Wait - I'd be wrong if I didn't update you on my crackhead of a neighbor - mainly because it's just been so damn funny as well as annoying.

He spent the weekend, it seemed, going through withdrawls. He was upstairs (which means I can see him as clearly as if he were in my room), and was walking around in circles shaking his head back and forth. Then he'd bang his head on the wall for a bit, flick the light switch on and off a few times (this seemed to amuse him as he kept coming back to it), walk into the closet for a few - then into the bathroom. The best part, though, had to be when I glanced up to see him walking out of the bathroom wearing the mask from The Scream. It was truly creepy, especially since he kept it on, turned the lights off and left. Um... Baret was freaking out that he was going to break into our cars and steal our radios for some quick cash to get another fix. (It wouldn't be the first time that's happened to one of our cars in that parking lot). But he returned momentarily, sans mask, and resumed the odd ritual given above.

Sunday he was in a foul mood. He stood and cursed at his empty patio for about ten minutes. When Dumb Bitch let out Yap-Yap-Dog, he started screaming and cursing at the dog (who just barked all the louder). Then he turned his music up even louder, and I was glad I hadn't planned to go to bed early (this was at 9pm). We were awakened last night a few times by the two of them fighting, and Crackhead slamming the front door and gate with all his might (he's been doing this for days now). I know I should call the cops - but he really isn't blasting the music anymore, and I can't very well call them and say "My neighbor is acting really weird - I think he's on crack." If it goes on again tonight (I can't see it not), I will call the landlord tomorrow, as tonight will make it exactly one week (7 days) that it has been going on non-stop. I'd like one night of peaceful, all-night-long sleep.

On a brighter-neighbor-note, a new couple moved in right next door to Crackhead and Responsible Boy. I noticed Saturday they'd put up a huge mirror across from their bed - which is as high as the low wall of the loft upstairs. They don't have curtains, either, so this gave us a completely full view of their bed. Now, I'm a pervert, and my first thought, that I shared with Baret, was, "I hope they fuck a lot." Oh, don't look so shocked - you'd be excited at the prospect of seeing your neighbors go at it, too, if you could. You know you'd watch. So, anyway, not ten mintues later, my Mom stopped by with my sister to pick up my dirty clothes (yes, my Mom still does my laundry - she enjoys it and why would I take that from her?). I pointed out to her that we had new neighbors and they'd put up a big mirror - and as we all looked over there at the same time, there they were going at it. My Mom thought it was hilarious, and I just thought it was cool. We didn't oggle them - I respect their privacy - but I did glance over now and again. I've dubbed them Ron (aka Jeremy) and Jenna (aka Jameson), my own, real-life, neighborhood porn stars. Reality TV isn't this good, folks. All I can figure, with that huge mirror positioned where it is, and the lack of curtains - they must want people to see them. They've got to know everyone can.

And to think, not but a week ago I lived in a quiet, boring little apartment complex!

Big Queen Wannabe-DJ

Thursday, August 14th, 2003

Ok - I know you're all dying to hear how things turned out with Big-Queen-Wannabe-DJ (BQWD). You are, aren't you? Well fuck off, then.

For those that are interested, I'm unhappy to report the saga only continued. The music blared once more at 9pm on Tuesday night as I lay down to sleep. Thankfully, exhaustion and the three beers I'd consumed blocked it all out and I slept through the same 7 songs being cranked out of a crappy system.

But last night, folks, was something straight out of Jerry Springer. Indeed, I need not watch reality TV - it plays right in front of my apartment at odd hours of the night.

First, I should point out that the entire front of my loft apartment consists of windows. Me being the voyeuristic exhibitionist that I am, I have no curtains. Really, it's just too much of a pain to put some up. Anyway, my neighbors across from me don't have any either so we have a fairly clear view of their place, minus the blockage from my crepe myrtle and their elephant ears. Back when they first moved in, there had been two major fights between the men - once the cops were called, another we heard them screaming and throwing stuff around. It was apparent, from overhearing the fights (I wasn't trying to, we were barbqing on the patio) and seeing who is always home, that Responsible Boy is the bread winner - while BQWCD sits on his ass all day watching TV (seriously - all day).

Last night we went to sleep to the sounds of crappy music. We were awakened about midnight to shouts and screams. Apparently, Responsible Boy (RB) had come home - and was pissed. The past few days, I've been watching BQWD do some weird shit - I really swore up and down he was on crack. He was just acting all bizarre, along with the music playing, taping weird shit up on his fence and throwing trash down the walkway. Apparently, I called that one. RB was yelling at BQWD for letting crackheads into the house - "How could you let those people just come in my house?" he yelled "You don't even know them." BQWD was so fucked up he couldn't even form words! He was obviously blasted out of his mind - just kept yelling back "Motherfucker. Bitch. You crazy." That was the extent of his end of the fight.

RB finally went inside, and locked the door. BQWD stood outside yelling those same three things over and over to no one. Then just talking and yelling to ...the door? Who knows? There was no one there. This went on for hours, until around 3am, when RB came back outside and the fighting ensued once more. At one point he yelled at BQWD and called him a "crackhead", to which our brilliant music man replied, "I'm proud of who I am!" You go, girl.

Needless to say, this was another night - the third to be exact - of being awakened every hour to music, and now fighting. I didn't call the cops b/c I felt sorry for RB, though I wished he'd of kept his voice down. I don't think the music shit will continue now that RB is home because I saw him apologizing to a neighbor that was walking by about "everything that's been going on" with "I haven't been here".

Just another exciting night on Blank Street....

Neighbors…Can’t Kill ‘Em

Tuesday, August 12th, 2003

And you're wondering why I'm here posting on this blog at the ungodly hour of 5am on a Tuesday morning? Simple - I couldn't sleep because I have the most inconsiderate neighbors in the world. Oh, I'm sure there are those out there that top them but those don't live next door to me so I'm not concerned with them. I am only concerned with Big-Queen-Wannabe-DJ and Dumb-Bitch with Yap-Yap-Dog - which are the reasons I am awake, smoking a cig and posting to this blogger rather than sleeping in my warm, comfortable bed blissfully unaware that the alarm will sound in an hour and a half.

I was originally awakened at the more ungodly hour of 3am by Yap-Yap-Dog yapping his little, fucking head off. As I come groggily into consciousness I am aware of music - loud music that I had been hearing, I realize, in my dreams for a good while now. For a few hours I'd been teetering on that brink of awake and not really awake - and I see now why. Big-Queen-Wannabe-DJ lives across from me and is apparently trying to "mix it up" on his patio. At 3am. Do you know what it's like to have to hear the gay house version of any J. Lo song at 3 in the morning? That's the kind of thing that drives people to murder. All of the lights are on in his apartment, his door is wide open and I see him bopping over what I assume are turntables on his patio. Does he know what time it freakin' is??!

This has never happened before, so I try to ignore it - hoping it will be a one time thing. Dumb-Bitch lets Yap-Yap-Dog back in the apartment so that's stopped, and I try to go to sleep as it seems the music has gotten a little lower. Apparently not, as certain songs just seem to blare louder than others. I'm wrestling with going over there and asking him to turn that shit down for those of us that have to get up for work in less than three hours, or just staying my crutch-usin' ass in my warm bed and hoping it would go away. Staying in bed won out, but when Dumb-Bitch let Yap-Yap-Dog back outside at 4 so he could join in the chorus, I about lost it. It finally all ended - as I write this - at 5 fucking AM!!

What's wrong with people? It's times like this that you wish it was legal to beat the living crap of assholes who deserve it.

Lord, Hear My Prayer

Wednesday, August 6th, 2003

Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

First of all, I'm not even christian - but this seems to work for some, so I thought "Why the hell not?"

There is a small, innocent animal that I have had fancied doing evil things to. I am normally a lover of all things cute and furry - well, of everything living on this beautiful Earth except humans! But there is this one small exception...and I feel awful about it.

But you see, in the wee morning hours of a weekend morning, when I'm in a perfectly pleasant slumber, this yap, yap, yap pulls me rudely from it. I have a new neighbor and the new neighbor has a cute, skinny, loud, yapping little bitch of a dog. I'm sure she's a sweetie - but's got a mouth on her that cries for a muzzle. Every time I walk by the patio - and her Momma has left her out in the heat - she yaps at me - she yaps at any and everything that walks by. Since Momma lives in the first apartment - she yaps constantly. I usually just bark back at her - but in those wee weekend mornings, I want to strangle her.

So, forgive me Lord (and Lady, naturally) for having wicked thoughts against a sweet, innocent animal. Is it okay if I still wish for her Momma to buy her a muzzle? Even if she only used it on weekends? No - okay - I hear you. Thanks - talk to you later.