Thanks a lot asswipe
you cut me off yet again
Die on the toilet
OK I know I said I was going to delve deep into the effects the sweet, sweet crack rock has on my family, but some of the events that transpired over the weekend warrant this post.
My little brother is in jail. He had 7 warrants out for his arrest. That's not the funny part. The funny part is, my older brother went to see what they needed to get him out of jail, and figured no one would ask his name, knowing he had 2 warrants out himself. This is, strangely enough, completely normal.
My older brother goes to jail once a month. Sometimes it's for a couple of hours, usually longer, but he is constantly in and out of jail because he does not believe in paying fines or going to court. He also has used the same license plates since early 2003, simply mixing and matching stickers (usually with the wrong color on them) to make up the current year, for instance: the year is 2007, so if he can find a sticker with the number 7 on it that is about the same size, he will put that over whatever is currently on the car so we would have a yellow "0" and a usually completely different colored 7 on the plate to get the correct year, no matter how fake it looks. He is also the king of getting temporary tags, and then screwing the dates up on them. He has had a temp tag that said February 30 before, as well as had a temp tag that expired 4 months after the date upon which he was driving when he got stopped (I can't remember the date, but it was like July and his temp tag expired in late October)... I guess he lives under the same assumptions we all make, namely "Why should I pay for another tag when there's a copier machine and magic markers handy here?" The problem is he has learned to tune out the "Well the many reasons why..." part of that thought process.
Every time he gets stopped by the police, he begins taking off his jewelry, wallet and other personal items and handing them to whoever is in the car, all the while talking about "I'm going to jail, come bail me out at " and from memory reciting the address of the jail and usually giving the name of the person to talk to...
He also gets caught in these far off weird places that when he tells you he is in jail you wonder: "Is that a city?" "Do they even have a jail there?" and the ever obvious "What the hell was he doing there?"
For instance, he called us telling us he had gotten taken to jail in Lawson, Missouri, about 40 miles Northeast of us, out in the middle of friggin nowhere. We drove up, and see a town square, 4 shops and about 10 houses. WTF?! We start the process, which is usually: bail him out, then watch as he is rearrested, follow him to the next jail, wait for him to be processed, bail him out again, etc. etc. ad nauseum. SOme of these scavenger hunts have taken us as far north as Maryville and Tarkio (Myself, personally... some trips his wife has gone on have taken her up to Iowa and beyond) and out to places like Bonner Springs, Warrensburg, all around the area. Usually the ticket stems from speeding and the license plate thing or the fact that he has a hardship license and is 50 miles from anywhere a human would be able to perform "work", though I like to believe some of the tickets spring from DWH, or Driving While Homely.
Anyway back to the current issue (trust me there will be plenty of time to explore the other things he has been in trouble for) he calls my house asking me to come bail him out. I was not in, being out of town all day working. He should know though that even if I was home I probably wouldn't have bailed him out since a lot of the time the reason he is in jail is because he jumped bail and the bondsman had to go hunt him down, so finding a bondsman who will bail him out is a fiasco in itself, and a sure way to have a bounty hunter kicking your door in in a month when he *gasp* doesn't show up for court... though this should say something about bondsmen: talk to eachother. Idiots like this have screwed you guys over so many times you are (in my humble opinion) not in complete control of your faculties if you waste your money bailing him out... but I digress.
So he asks me to come bail him out, and like I said I do not get home in time to care, I came home and went straight to bed. He calls the next morning, saying (with a disappointed tone) that he had signature bonded out and needed a ride home because his car was (rightfully so) impounded. Fine whatever, as I am driving out to BFE to pick him up for what I know will be $0 gas money, I realize a few things: why would that asshat want me to come bail him out when he could just signature bond out? Why would that disappoint him? (Though on this one I can kind of see because then the bondmen know where to find him, as opposed to someone bailing him out and them going to someone else's house, allowing him that extra hour of freedom) and what retard police department would let someone like him get out based on their word?
I pick him up, take him to my mom's house (I think he finally got evicted, the subject of another post as to why) and he has the gall to ask me to borrow my car for a few days while he thinks about how he is going to get his out of the impound lot. I almost burst out laughing at him before leaving.
The Crack Chronicles starts tomorrow, unless something happens tonight (which it might)