Dapper Dan Narcling

A Message From Narcling

2007-10-04T21:16:00.000-07:00

Hi, I'm a friend of the "Narc." Due to a recent injury, Narcling will not be around here much. It all started several months ago and the details are still classified as, "need to know."

What I can tell you and what Narcling wanted me to tell you, he is doing much better. His family is good and he now has two new dogs. Niether dog is over 5 inches tall.

Narcling said he'll be back to tell one of his not so funny stories in the near future. He said the pain is just to great right now to sit and attempt to type.

As soon as I can, I will provide more information.

Narcling's Bud is out!!!

Still Around, Just Not Writing

2007-02-06T13:33:00.000-08:00

My gosh, it seems like it been a year since I've been on here. It's been pretty damn close to that. I've got some stories but, I'm just not ready to share them. If you guys are still around, I might get to it in the next week or so.

See ya soon,

The Narcman

Big Sexy Patrolman / Fisherman

2006-05-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

June 28, 2006

What ever happened to Big Sexy? I know there is a Big Sexy fan base out there, so I thought I'd give you the latest. Before the original Narc Unit shut down Big Sexy cut his loses and went back to his parent agency.

He was placed in Criminal Investigations and was doing a bang up job. However, the pay cut we all took was hurting him as much as the rest of us and so he applied at the agency I work for. Now if you been reading you know he had worked at this agency before, so they knew what they were getting, however they hired him anyway.

Big Sexy is back in a uniform and cleaning up the streets, he happens to be one of the best street cops I know. So here's to Big Sexy, good luck and be careful out there.

Now to more important things, this past week I took a vacation, a much needed vacation. Went to the Gulf Coast to let the kids play and do a little fishing. Big Sexy and his wife were also going and so we set out on Friday.

I'm gonna skip the part about me getting sunburned and playing on the beach and getting drunk and all that boring stuff and go to the part where Big Sexy and myself took my boy fishing (wade fishing). Boy was a little scared to get in the water, as Big Sexy's wife had gotten stung by a jelly fish the day before. However he got in the water and on the first cast brought in a really nice Red Fish, however it was just a little too small to keep.

Then he saw a jelly fish and from then on he and I were fishing from the bank, I was doing the casting. Big Sexy was telling him there was nothing to worry about and that the jelly fish was gone and then the jelly fish said, "no I'm not" as it stung Big Sexy on the leg.

Boy out fished us that day by catching 2 Red Fish, 2 Piggy Perch and a Snapper. But that wasn't the end for Big Sexy and I, we couldn't be out fished by a six year old, could we? That night we went to a spot (which I won't give up) and caught a little over 100 Trout and 5 Red fish. We fished from about 7:30 pm until 5:00 am. Some of the best fishing I've ever done. And seeing as all of that was so hard and fun, I'm taking more vacation for the 4th of July. See ya'll later.

Puke; There Are Things I Hate About This Job

2006-05-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

You've heard Jack and I talk about digging trash, not one of the most glamorous parts of the job. However, it needs to be done. So with one of the rookies in tow, we go and take someone's trash. We take it back to our agency and prepare to dig through it. Granted, I came to work this day not feeling to good. I was running a fever, my head was splitting and I felt like I could puke at any moment.

Back to the story, I explained to Homer (the rookie) how to go about taking the trash, we get it done without a hitch. We then go back to the agency, go around back where the trash dumpster are and I explain what we're looking for and how to go about picking through the trash. Not feeling so well, Homer is doing most of the picking, not all, but most.

Then as I'm going through part I find a large amount of dog feces, not dry and old but moist and fresh. If the overwhelming odor of dog crap doesn't do it, the odor of rotten meat did. The two rotten odors fill my nose with the most horrible smell that seems to go straight to my stomach. This tells my stomach, "hey, that smells like shit and rotten meat. We should get that out of here immediately." Which it does, as I hurl in front of the rookie, who just heard me say before we got started, "I've never puked digging trash, come close but never have."

I'm glad the rookies have someone to look up to. There are things about this job I most certainly hate.

Part II, Just When Things Were Getting Smooth

2006-05-07T18:24:00.000-07:00

As you know, I had to go back to patrol. I put on the old uniform and was out doing what I do best, messin' with the peeps. I was really starting to enjoy myself, traffic stops, serving warrants, and making the hot calls. Then out of the blue I was asked to put in for the new narcotics position.

With the fall of the Narc Unit Jack and I were in, the locals realized that they were gonna need some sort of narcotic enforcement. My agency decided to make a small narcotic division, all who wanted to put in for this position needed to put in a letter of intent. I had no wish to do so, as I said I was really enjoying myself on patrol.

However, one day while I was out at the gun range I was asked by the new Commander of the soon to be Narcotic Division to put in a letter of intent. I told him I was quite happy where I was and left it at that however, several more times he asked. On the deadline for submitting the letters I put my letter in. The only reason I did so was because I have much respect for the Commander, I did not foresee me getting selected for the position.

A couple days later I was informed that I had been selected along with the other officers that had been picked. So, just when I was getting ready to pull the bag off my head and let the blog world see the real me I was pushed back into the Narc World. So for now the bag stays on and the world of dirty, nasty dopers have been tossed into my lap once more.

My new partners will of course never replace the original crew, Jack, Mitch, Big Sexy, Brett, Cletus, The Mexican and the rest. I will miss working with the originals however, as the senior officer on the new squad I'm sure I can mold these guys.

A special thanks goes out to Jack, just for being Jack. It was good to see you the other day and anytime you need something just holla.

THE NARC IS BACK!

Blade Out

VH1's BEHIND THE BADGE

2006-01-16T22:44:00.000-08:00

Ok, here's the story. Before I get into any details let me say, I'm not going to get into the details. Got that? Hope so.

The Narcotics Unit I was assigned to is funded by a Federal Grant. Every year the grant was being cut, and that money was put elsewhere. At some point in late 2005, we were informed that the grant was done and that if we wanted to continue, our parenting agencies would have to front the majority of our funds. That is something the Chiefs and Sheriffs were not going to go for. Ok, here comes my part.

Sometime in late October or early November my supervisor at my parenting agency called and said we needed to talk. I immediately started thinking, "Shit! what did I do now? Am I going to be fast enough to cover any tracks I may have left behind seeing that I don't even now what I did yet?" (I like to...hmm, how should I say it...misbehave)

Once at the meeting my supervisor tells me that there is an opening on patrol now and that I could have it or take my chances and wait until March when the Narc Unit is shut down and see if there are any openings then. However, if there are no openings I don't have a job.

Now I don't claim to be the smartest man in the world (just one of the better looking ones) and I know that no job equals no money, so I took the job offer. Some people thought I should be really pissed about this. Well, those people would be right. I was so pissed I started looking for a job else where, kind of.

You see I've been with my department for six years and it isn't easy to just walk away just because I didn't get my way. I feel that I put a lot of time and effort in to get to where I'm at now, not to mention in two years I'm fully vested. (New job here I come)

The worst part was, I was going to have to clean up, hair cut short, shave off the goatee and the absolute worst part...putting on a uniform. The first day is fast approaching and I had to order new uniforms because I had put on just a little bit of weight. (I think I'm just retaining some water)

First day, I wake up at 4:00am, I hadn't done this in four years. I jump in the shower, I shave, I put on the uniform and strap on the duty belt. I walk over to the mirror and I feel just fine. I'm ready to bust someone's ass. I don't mean this in a cocky "I'm the man" kind of thing. I feel fresh, renewed ready to get on the street again and have some fun. You see, I always like Patrol and I never stopped liking it I just got used to playing narc.

That's it, that's the story. Did I leave out some details, you bet I did. There are certain things I will not say on this site, you know that. The main thing is, I'm having more fun now then I have had in long time. Not to mention I already have stories to share. Like the next post, How I made a 15 year old girl cry in front of daddy. I love this job.

NARC NO MORE

2006-01-12T23:11:00.000-08:00

Soon The Story Of A Use To Be Narc.

If Jack hasn't already said so, I'm no longer working the narc scene. I'm back on the beat, uniform, patrol or whatever you want to call it. Now my day consist of taking calls and making traffic stops. I'll post more of the story later, let me start with this first.

It's good to be back, sorry it took so long. I had a lot of shit going on in my professional life (read the first paragraph). Anyways, hope you guys are still out there. It's kind of funny how you start to miss reading the replies. Ok, Ok here's the story.

I hate DWIs, there a pain in the ass, not only dealing with the drunk but also the hours and hours of paperwork involved. The courts have made arresting a drunk driver a long and painful job for law enforcement.

My first day back in a uniform was in December. Because I have been out of uniform for four years, my supervisors said I needed to ride with a training officer until I got back into the swing of things. So on my first day back I'm riding shotgun with an officer I've known my whole career. It's been a long day (12 hours) and I'm ready to go home. I get a call for a minor accident in the district I'm assigned to and we proceed to the location. Once there, I determined, the guy that caused the accident was intoxicated. He tells me he wasn't driving the vehicle and his passengers are telling me, Oh yes he was. Long story short, the guy goes to jail for DWI, he states he's gonna fight it in court. I love first days back.

Blade!

BLADE HAS A LIFE?

2005-09-14T19:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry blogger world. I'm sure, that is if you're still reading, that you thought I fell off the edge of the world. It seems that I have a life that keeps getting in the way of blogging. You would think my family would understand.

Since I got back from Colorado, it just seems that there is no time to write. My son started his first year of school (there's a story there, but I'm saving it). It's also his second year of soccer, I'm not coaching this year and my girl started her first year of dance. Three years old and in dance lessons.

As I have said in this blog all along, "I suck at this and I don't write as much as I should." So, if you have all left that's fine. I didn't like any of you to begin with.

If you're still reading, Thanks, I love you guys. I do this for all of ya'll. Without you this blog wouldn't be here.

So maybe I'll write a story soon, December is looking good for me, what do you think?

Blade Out!

OVER ? ALREADY?

2005-08-16T21:58:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I went to Colorado on vacation. We (Tamara and the Kids) had a great time. It just ended sooner than we wanted. However I thought I would post a picture of where I plan on living in the next few years (Tamara said I would have to go alone, pure Texan that girl).

PUKE, VOMIT, BARF...JUST THROW UP

2005-08-11T20:32:00.000-07:00

I think Jack may have posted about a search warrant I ran and the house was so dirty and smelly that Jack actually puked on the floor of the bedroom.

It wasn't his fault, the house was full of animals and they had crapped all over the place. You can't imagine the smell and I couldn't describe it even if I tried.

I can't remember the order of our entry but Jack and I were among the first to enter. The living room and the kitchen were joined together and one bedroom was to the right and a hallway to the other bedroom and bath to the left.

Jack went right, I went left, the first room I saw was the bedroom and it was clear. The bathroom door was closed and as I opened it, the smell almost took me to my knees. A dirty stinking cat had been put in there and the litter box was overflowing with cat feces. The cat, being tired of having to shit in the box was now shitting all over the floor and was sleeping in the sink to escape the many piles.

At this point I needed to get out as soon as possible, as I was starting to dry heave. As I quickly went past the bedroom where Jack was, I heard the unmistakable sound of someone hurling and the pleasant sound of stomach fluid splashing onto the floor.

Now by no means am I poking fun at Jack, I myself was only a few seconds away from joining the stomach fluid hurling contest. Luck be on my side, I made it outside and the fresh air was enough to save me.

Long story short, Mom and Dad go to jail, CPS takes the baby who was later released to the Grandparents.

Now...The other day we run a warrant and Jack was not feeling so well (he should have stayed home). But being a team player, he comes in to help and the warrant went smooth. We are wrapping things up and Jack sits down on the bed. He's looking down at the floor and asked, "If I puke right here on the floor, do I have to clean it up?" The whole time he is asking, he has those little hiccups that you get before barfing. I leave the room.

As I'm going through the kitchen he walks past me, very quickly. The bathroom door slams shut and then you hear the cough and then the unmistakable sound once again.

The crook is sitting on the couch handcuffed and hears the noise and says, "that's just not right, you guys need to cut me some slack, man...that's just not right." Mitch walks over to the bathroom door and asked Jack if he needed anything and before he could answer the crook says,

"Yea, he needs a wash rag and a toof brush"

Sorry it took so long. It seems my life got in the way of writing. I'm gonna try to write about twice a month or so. Thanks to all of you for waiting me out.

Blade Out!

WHERE IN THE HELL IS BLADE?

2005-08-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

New post tonight...really!

ZZZzzz...Uh? What?

2005-07-15T22:59:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay...New Post Coming Soon.

SWEET & BLOW 2

2005-07-02T00:11:00.000-07:00

Ok, Ok, I know you read Jack's post. I'm not gonna tell the "real" story, because it happened just like he said. However, his post was read by so many people, that I got a very interesting phone call.

How this person got my number and identity is beyond me. I can't say anything more (I signed a contract), however because it was first heard here in blog land I have been authorized to show this photo.

That's it, I can't say anymore.

Blade Out!

DO YOU EVER WONDER?

2005-06-26T11:03:00.000-07:00

Since Jack introduced me to the world of blogs, I have read quite a few. Some I go back to and others, I try to forget. There are tons and tons of reading material. Just about every and anything. I'm still exploring the world of blogs and finding my favorite sites.

As for Jack's site and all my other favorites to date, I check daily. As I read I can't help but wonder what the person looks like. Based off of their writings my mind tries to picture them. I know what Jack looks like, I see him almost everyday. Next to Jack's site, I've been reading Kim's the longest. My mind sees her a certain way, but I know I may be way off. The same goes for Trashman and Wanting. I can't stand not knowing who is talking. I know this is a form of release for these people but I still want to know. If I did know what you all looked like, would it ruin some of the readings? Maybe.

Some sites offer pictures of the writers. A Diva in Red, puts her picture up for all the world to see. It doesn't take anything away because it's always been there. The same goes for April, even though she just gives us a peek.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this, other then curiosity. You all have great blogs and I will continue to read no matter what. Hell, I don't show myself on my blog.

Hats off to all of you, keep up the great work. I was just wondering out loud.

SHE DIDN'T SAY THAT, DID SHE?

2005-06-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

I grew up on a small ranch in South Texas. We had cattle and horses and one big ass garden that I hated. It was the best place a kid could grow up. Lots of land and plenty of stuff to do. I started my rodeo career right on our ranch. Five years old and rode a little bull calf, I got tossed and hit my head on fence post...no major damage done.

My Grandpa, Dad and just about all my Uncles were bull riders. I had no choice, it was in the blood. It was great, but as a past post stated, it all ended way too soon. So, I found a new job and went on. Found a nice girl that could put up with me and got married. We didn't have a lot of money so we moved into a duplex in the city. No country boy should live in the city, you can't even piss in your own backyard without some old busy body calling the cops on you.

When I got into law enforcement, we had to move closer to the department. We had a house built in a subdivision (in the city) and it's very nice. We were the 3rd house built in the sub and had built right next to another police officer from a different department. We fast became great friends, his family and mine, we were like family. We put up our fences together and built a gate joining their backyard and ours, all was great.

Then one day they came to us and told us they had to move. It's a very long story so I'm gonna spare you the details. Anyway, the house was vacant for several months. We really didn't want anyone to move in because we knew no one could be as good a neighbor as the Chapa Family.

So one day we see this moving truck unloading boxes and stuff, but we don't see a family. We were going out and didn't have time to go and introduce ourselves. Days went by and we saw the family every once in a while but we still had not met them.

Let me interject, I have a 5 year old son and a 3 year old daughter. We have tried our best to teach them manners and to be well behaved. We are honest and have used all the correct terms for body parts (don't get ahead of me). We have been told by numerous people how polite and well mannered our kids are.

Back to the story. So one day we're in the backyard with the kids and a ball goes flying over the fence. Well Mrs. Q is back there and tried to toss it back but it hit the kids swing set and went right back. So Tamara goes to the gate and opens it and gets the ball from Mrs. Q. I walk over and introduce myself and Tamara. Mr. and Mrs. Q do the same. So we talk and explain the gate and the Qs seem really nice.

I call the kids over and introduce them and the boy says hi and then takes off to play. The girl comes to Tamara and she picks her up. She's a little shy and doesn't say much and we continue talking to the Qs. So now we're about done and getting ready to go inside and we're saying good-bye and the girl says "Mommy doesn't have a penis. Daddy has a big penis, boy has a little penis." As the shades of red start to fill Tamara and myself, Mr. and Mrs. Q are now laughing their asses off. Mr. and Mrs. Q, who knows what they think, only time will tell.

Don't you just love children? Out of the mouths of babes.

NO, MEANS NO

2005-06-15T22:30:00.000-07:00

Back when I was on patrol. One of the cities in my jurisdiction sent a call to an officer. I heard the call and was not busy so I thought I would go and see if I could assist. It turned out that a lady nearly 80 years old had been raped.

While at her house, a man she knew who sometimes helped her around the house, came over to visit. She let the man in and she fixed them each a glass of tea. They drank their tea and talk about nothing important. As she was taking the empty glasses to the kitchen the man grabbed her and forced her to the bedroom. The woman was no push over and fought back, kneeing the Prick in the crotch. This did not stop the Prick however and he forced himself on the woman.

The woman did not want to tell us that their had been penetration, however after some calm talking and understanding the woman gave us the above story along with the Prick's identity. The other officer went with the woman to the hospital and I went to the Prick's house.

The house was really a cabin with two rooms, a main room and a bathroom. The Prick was not there. About two hours later there was a shift change and the first officer went home and his replacement arrived. We filled him in and he and I continued to search for the Prick. Some hours went by and I advised the Officer that I needed to get some grub. I decided just to hit a drive thru so I could get back to the hunt.

I had already expressed to the 2nd Officer how important it was to me, that I be the one who would catch this Prick. Nothing pisses me off more then someone who has to force himself/herself on a person (woman, man, child). I don't understand how anyone can get excited when the victim is screaming, crying or not wanting to be with that person. No means No, what's so damn hard about understanding that? So I'm sitting at the fast food drive thru and the Officer calls me on the radio and says "I just saw movement in the house." I tell the Officer don't move I'll be right there. I have to turn on my overhead lights to get out of line and just about break the sound barrier getting to his location.

Once there the Officer shows me where he saw the movement and with our lights off we creep up the the cabin. The Officer goes to the back and I take the front. Before he can get to the back I tell him the front door is open. I enter the cabin and the Officer is now behind me. I'm thinking to myself "Please put up a fight, oh please." I want to deck this Prick so bad I can taste it. I call out "Police, come on out, we know your in here." I get no response. The game is up, this Prick is going to hide, and fight when I find him. We search the main room and bath, not there. The last place is the closet.

I approach the closet and swing the door open...nothing but a big pile of clothes. I put the gun on the pile and kick it with my big black boot and hear, "Ahh". I reach in the pile grab the Prick by the hair and yank his ass out of the closet. Prick starts screaming "don't shoot me, please don't shoot me." He's now on his hands and knees and I kick him in the ass and onto his belly he goes. I holster my gun and pull out the handcuffs, I'm thinking to myself again "fight me prick, just act like you want to fight," but the Prick is chicken shit and gives up.

The Prick gave a full statement and is still locked up. Justice served? Maybe. The Woman had to live with it the rest of her life, it didn't go away with him. But, at least he'll never put anyone else in that situation.

IT'S A BIRD, IT'S A...AH, IT'S JUST ME

2005-06-15T15:48:00.000-07:00

That's Me

Just thought I would let you guys out there see what I look like. We all have to wear a uniform, I picked this one. All the other narcs get to pick their own also. I wish I had picked one with boots. My feet sure do hurt at the end of the day.

HOT PANTS

2005-05-31T20:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, you probably want to know why I haven't posted anything for quite some time. Well here is the sad truth.

Jack took me hostage and held me in his cabin on the ranch. He had his way with me multiple times and then let me go. So anyway that took about 20-25 minutes and the rest of the time I've been working on some training courses I had to take. Sorry it took so long, now lets get to the real story

The other night I was out working with some Patrol Officers in one of the small cities in our area. We've been looking for a group of wanted felons, chasing lead after lead. We have had a hell of a time tracking this group. We have the Patrol Officers on the main drag in town looking for the main guy's vehicle.

We go down to a dark back road with one of the Patrol Officers to meet with a CI and question this meth whore about our main guy, Doogie. This whore is just trying to piss us off by telling us absolutely nothing. This goes on for almost an hour, our Patrol Officers are still on the main drag trying to locate Doogie.

This night I'm working with a partner that is some what new. Marvin is a nice guy and recently married, his wife is still a little green on all this secret agent shit. Marvin and Kate (his wife) are trying to have a baby and they've been trying for awhile. They're now at the point of keeping track of her cycle, when it's time he's at home trying.

Marvin and I are ready to put the whore in a bag and throw her in the river. Chet (Patrol Officer) calls on the radio and tells us he has a possible. We tell the whore we'll call her later and head back to the drag. Chet makes a stop on the vehicle and gets the driver out, we pull up, hidden behind a gas station pump. Shit, it's not our guy. We let Chet Know and now he has to deal with this Drunk he stopped. This guy is wasted, he can't perform any of the test and is about to be put in handcuffs. Mr. Drunk then realizes he doesn't want to go to jail and starts to fight with Chet. Marvin and I bail out to go help, just as we arrive, Mr. Drunk kicks Chet in the shin. Chet whips out the pepper spray and hoses this guy down. Mr. Drunk starts to scream like an eight year old boy locked in a room with Michael Jackson.

Mr. Drunk is gently placed on the ground and handcuffed, this guy has snot bubbles hanging from nose to knee. He is then placed gently into the patrol car and taken to jail. Marvin and I go also because of the great amount of pepper spray, we had become a little comtaminated also. Mostly just our hands and arms.

Marvin gets the call, it's time to call it a night, he now has other duties to perform. We finish up some paper work and we call it. Marvin later tells me the following.

Marvin gets home, jumps in the shower and then into bed. At this stage there is no time to waste, Marvin is trying to get Kate hot and start the process.

Kate: "it's hot"

Marvin: "yeah baby, it's hot"

Kate: "oh, it's getting hotter"

Marvin thinking "I'm the man"

Kate: "Oh! it's getting hotter"

Marvin: "yeah, who's your daddy"

Kate: "No, it's really hot. It's burning"

Marvin thinking "Oh shit"

Kate jumps out of bed naked and running for the shower

Marvin kisses ass and tries to explain what happen with Mr. Drunk and the Pepper Spray

Marvin is still on the couch, however he did get the nickname "Hot Hands." His wife got a new nickname also but I'm not allowed to release it.

Blade Out!

HEART BREAKING

2005-05-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

You have all said it, or at least thought it. Cops are uncaring, insensitive people. To some aspect your right. We have to turn off our senses or we would go crazy. You can't work with death and destruction all around you every day and not turn it off. There is a line we must walk where we have to turn it off and on at a moments notice. This story is one of those times.

While on patrol I get a call for a welfare concern. Someone is concerned about another's health and or well-being. In this case both, an elderly man has not been seen in days and a friend of his called in.

I locate the residence, which is a dilapidated mobile home. The trees in front have broken limbs which have fallen onto the home, the front porch is rotting away and it appears that there is no electricity. Knocking on the door gets no response and I'm thinking to myself this is going to be a DRT (Dead Right There). The front door is ajar so I enter the home.

This is something I've only seen on television, the home is full of trash. I mean full, there is a path from the front door through the living room to the kitchen and down the hall, the rest of the house is solid trash at least two feet high. You can not leave the path without climbing up two feet onto the trash. I make my way down the hall and as I do I pass the bathroom. The toilet is full of waste and paper, stacked on top of each other, FOUR feet high, no joke. The smell of waste, urine and trash fill the house. I am having to fight back the reflex of gagging with every step. When I find the bedroom the smell has increased ten fold and in the bed is an elderly man about six feet tall and weighing in at 100 lbs. He's awake but in bad shape.

The old man is coherent but is so weak he can't get up. EMS won't take him cause he doesn't want to go. Adult Protective Services won't help because he's coherent. Lucky for me...I get the job of trying to talk him into going to the hospital. One of the EMT's on site is a friend of mine and I ask him to stay because I'm sure I can get this guy to go.

After two hours of trying to talk the old man into going with the EMTs and gathering info on the old man. The light bulb goes off as I find out the old man is a WW II veteran. I tell Gerry the EMT to get ready. I go back to the old man's room and ask about the war and tell him my grandfather was in the same war and we share a few stories. The EMTs are in the hall waiting for the word when I start to pace back and forth at the end of the old man's bed. The old man watches me and in my best DI voice I say "Get your sorry ass out of that bed soldier, you want to go out like this, covered in your own shit and piss? You made it across the beach, you killed to stay alive and come home to your family. You fought every day and now you just want to lay back and die? Not on my watch, are you ready to go and get cleaned up and fed?" And as I watched the tears fill his eyes he said yes. Before he could change his mind, myself and the two EMTs had him out the door and on the way to the Hospital where he made a full recovery.

That call was one of the hardest for me, just because it can happen to any of us. The old man's family was gone and he felt there was nothing left to live for. Lucky for him, he had at least one friend who cared enough to make a call. We have all been put out by an elderly person before, but before you bite, put yourself in their shoes.

CACTUS SUCK

2005-05-08T01:15:00.000-07:00

Early in my patrol years myself and a new rookie that just got off FTO were sitting in ours cars talking about how nothing exciting ever happens on our shifts. Ours shifts overlapped, mine was graveyard and his evenings. Mickey, the rookie was a young guy and ready for something good to break loose.

Earlier that day a man had car jacked a little old lady and had gotten away and a mild search was still active. I had been on my shift maybe an hour when a shots fired call went out and the suspect fit the car jacker's description. Mickey and I were in route...so we thought. Our Sgt. redirected us and told us to stay closer to town and take any other calls that might come in. Now we were a little pissed that we were missing this and got back to our discussion about not getting the exciting calls.

About 30 minutes had gone by and I get a call for a barricaded subject. While in route to this call with Mickey as my back up, dispatch informs us that the suspect is holding her family hostage at gun point, "Ask and you shall receive." Now because of the Car Jacker shooting up the town, all other Officers on duty and some off duty are searching for this guy, which leaves Mickey and Myself as the only other Officers available. I contact the nearest city and request support from any available officers. I get three duty Officers and one off duty Officer to show up at the residence.

As we arrived at the location the three family members come running out the door and tell us the suspect is a female and had held them hostage with a 12 gauge shotgun. The sister of the suspect informs me the suspect had lost two family members in the last month, the latest being her husband and the suspect had not slept in a week. The suspect's record was clean, however the situation had now put her and all the Officers at great risk.

I quickly organized my group with the Officer with the most experience close to the door to try to make contact with the suspect. While he was trying to talk with her the rest of us would take our positions around the house. Several times the suspect came out toting the shotgun and it was very clear she did not want to talk. However, Jimmy kept engaging her in conversation until I let him know we were in position.

Our plan was just to talk her out, but as long as she had the gun we were just going to sit. She knew where Jimmy was however she couldn't see him or harm him as he was behind cover. Then after about 40 minutes she walks back out onto the porch with out the gun and we decide to rush her before she can get back in. Jimmy and myself are the closest to her and we take off in a full out run. Jimmy going straight at her head on and me from her left side. Did I mention it was pitch black outside that night, you couldn't see your own hand in front of you or the partial 5 strand barbed wire fence I ran into (at a full run). I hit that fence so hard it sent me flying backward a good 15 feet. I landed flat on my back in the middle of one big ass cactus plant. I didn't feel a thing, I jumped up and went to the house, where they had already detained my suspect. Jimmy looked at me as if waiting to see what I was going to do (the pain had set in) and in a firm commanding voice I said "I'll be right back, I need to take care of something."

I calmly walked down the hall of the residence, found the bathroom, went in, dropped my pants and pulled about 20 cactus thorns out of my ass. I got dressed went back to the living room got my suspect and put her in my patrol car. Jimmy walked up and asked "did you just take a shit in this lady's house?

Be Careful what you ask for.

BURGER KING DUDE

2005-04-29T18:01:00.000-07:00

I was reading another blog, Aliens Stole My Wallet and the topic was how creepy the Burger King "King" is. You know the one where the guy opens the curtain and the King gives him a breakfast sandwich or the one where the guy wakes up and the King is in bed with him.

The King is creepy, but I kind of like him. Let me explain, if I were the person in the commercial I would probably scream like a little girl and then beat the living shit out of the King, sue the company and change the name to Blade's Burger Bitch and have the King dancing in a cage above the counter.

You know...I sound kind of creepy too. I need a vacation.

"BIG SEXY" PART TWO

2005-04-26T22:06:00.000-07:00

So I arrive at Big Sexy's suicidal subject call about one second before him. I had dealt with this subject before so I just took the lead...what are friends for? With my patrol car parked so the headlights were on the subject Cleatus, Big Sexy pulled his patrol car at about a 45 degree angle to mine, same thing headlights on Cleatus.

Cleatus standing in the driving rain with a big ass pair of sewing scissors held to his throat and me standing in the V of my patrol car and door, Big Sexy doing the same at his vehicle. I start talking to Cleatus and you know, telling him it was all going to be alright and that he needed to put the scissors down. Well, Cleatus took this as "walk on over towards me with those big ass scissors." That wasn't going to happen! Big Sexy and myself draw our weapons and tell Cleatus he needs to stop and put the scissors down. Cleatus is babbling on and doesn't hear us or pay attention to us or something. Now not only am I worried about possibly having to shoot this man, but I also have a rookie standing here with me and I'm not sure if he's about to shoot also. Thoughts of law suits are going through my head, along with; is he to close? should I have already shot? please don't let the rookie shoot him my supervisor will kill me if the rookie is in a shoot out so soon.

Then...my head clears and I do what I have been trained to do. In a clear, commanding voice I shout as I pull my gun up into the subjects view for the first time and say "Cleatus stop right there and drop those fucking scissors." and Big Sexy says "Yea Right Now!"

Cleatus stops, looks at me and then Big Sexy and drops the scissors and starts crying. We secure Cleatus, check on his parents, that he still lives with at the young age of 32 and then Big Sexy puts him in the patrol car to transport him to the state hospital, while in route to the hospital Cleatus tries to choke himself to death with his own hands. Big Sexy had to introduce Cleatus to pepper spray that night, however that would not be the last time we dealt with Cleatus.

LOST IN SPACE

2005-04-21T18:34:00.000-07:00

For those of you that have read this crap I call LIFE, I'm sorry. I must be the worst blog writer on the net. It seems to take me a month to pull my head out of my ass and write. I'm trying to get better, but with two kids and a wife...ahhhh, I am just too damn tired to write once the night settles down. I promise in the next few days I will continue the Story of Big Sexy and Myself deciding if we're going to have to shoot the suicidal subject. For the 2 or 3 of you that read, thanks again, I'll try to do better.

BladeRunner

MEETING BIG SEXY

2005-03-31T00:37:00.000-08:00

My wife pregnant, just finished the academy and looking for a job in law enforcement, how can it get any better. Well let me tell you, it's fucking hard to find a department that wants to hire a person fresh out of the academy. They all want someone with a few years behind them. Now I'm starting to worry a little. The part time job I took while in the academy isn't going to pay for Tamara, baby and me.

About three months after I finished the academy, while at work I met a man who was friends with a high ranking officer in a community not to far from where I lived. Long story short, I got hired...but, I had to work in the jail before I could work on the street, hey...I got my foot in the door.

On the first day my supervisor takes me on a tour of the jail, explains the duties and introduces me to the other officers. The first person I meet is a 6' 4", 340 lbs monster of a man. I thought to myself..."don't piss this one off, and if you do, pray you can out run him." Little did I know that this monster of a man would turn out to be one of my best friends and my partner throughout my current career. Later in our career someone coined him "Big Sexy", I don't call him that...it kind of grosses me out, I just call him Jr.

Before my short jail duty ends and I'm put on patrol, Tamara gives birth to our beautiful son. I've been employed only a short time, however they give me two weeks off to be at home with the newest member of the family. I never knew how awesome it would feel to become a dad, I smile now just thinking about it.

I got the promotion to Patrol and had to leave my partner Jr in the jail. Little did I know it wouldn't be to long before he join me. Jr put himself through the academy as I did and a little over a year he was put on the same shift as me. After some shift shuffles, our shifts changed and Jr's new shift and mine overlapped. So we worked about 5 hours together. About one or two weeks after he was out on his own (not having to ride with a Supervisor) Jr got a call for a suicidal subject. I was close by and called in as his back up and from the time I arrived to the end of the call was some of the most intense feelings a rookie can go through.

WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION ?

2005-03-19T09:00:00.000-08:00

"What is fucking wrong with you? Are you fucking insane? Don't you think we should discuss this before you go and do it? Motorcycles, Bulls and now Police Officer, you have a death wish don''t you?"

You get the idea, my wife, Tamara was not happy. We have some friends that are police officers and they have told her about the high divorce rate, stress and the overall dangers of the job. However, when I told her this is what I wanted to do she understood and stood by me. She still was not pleased but she stayed. She helped me study and stay focused on my goal.

Toward the end of the academy, we were doing our driving lessons and the instructor, Bart was a real...Pain. The course was a mile and a half road course type track. I'm about the 4th person to take the track, a white Caprice with a LT1. I get in the car and Bart says, "You have to make 2 laps, at anytime I feel that you are going too fast into a corner I will slap the dash and tell you to brake. If at anytime you leave the track you will fail the course."

I took off, taking the first lap fast but not to fast. The second lap was a different story, no holds barred, balls to the walls. The back side of the track was a straight away and I got the Caprice up to 127 mph. At the end of the straight was a 90 degree right turn. As we start to get to the turn Bart slaps the dash and says brake, however I don't slow down at all. As we continue to approach the corner Bart is now pounding on the dash and screaming BRAKE! BRAKE! BRAKE! At the last second I pound on the brake and slide through the corner like a professional driver. We get back to the start / finish and Bart hits the stop watch and says "Shit...you had me worried,... by the way, you beat the all time track record by 1/10 of a second.

Now I'm thinking this is one of the best days of my life, how could it get any better? I get home to our tiny rented duplex and and tell Tamara about the great day I had. She said she knew I would do fine and told me she had a present for me and brings me a gift bag. I read the card and she had wrote a note inside telling me how proud she was of me and how much she loved me. Then a reached inside the bag and pulled out a book. A book on Fatherhood? I just kind of looked at it and told Tamara thank you. It just took a few seconds before I looked up at Tamara and the big smile on her face to realize she was pregnant.

:Writers Note: A special thanks to: thelastnail.blogspot.com for reading my blog and sharing it with their readers. Take some time to check it out.

THE EARLY YEARS

2005-02-26T07:47:00.000-08:00

It was around 1987 or '88, I was young and working construction. I rode bulls on the weekends to try to make some extra money however, I knew I wasn't good enough to go Pro. It was fun and a good way to pass time. Now I had been riding for several years and never been hurt to bad, but here lately my back was starting to hurt a little. I put it off as a hard days work and went about my business. Then one day I go to my Doctor for a check up and I tell him my back has been sore and he orders up a x-ray. Oops...Not one but two broken vertebrates in my lower back, Doc said that they had been broken for quite some time and that there wasn't anything he could do for it. However Doc did tell me to quit the Rodeo Scene immediately. That was easier said then done.

In 1989 or '90, a young bull gets my number. The bull, Rocket, short, fast and meaner than Hell. We come out of the chute into a fast flat spin to the left, all is going good until I lose my right foot. This tips me forward into the the spin and I hang up. Just as I get my feet, Rocket throws a twist that brings his rear legs down on mine. I go to the ground and the 1100 lbs. Rocket lands on me and roles over me.

I remember thinking that didn't hurt too bad, and I started to get up from my face down prone position. Nothing worked, my arms, my legs, nothing. Oh shit, I did it, I went and broke my back for good. Why didn't I listen to Doc and stop. Then as fast as it went away my feeling came back. I slowly rolled over onto my back. There were guys around saying don't move let us get some help. I sat up and told them I was fine, picked up my gear, popped a top on a Budweiser and never got on another bull. I miss it everyday.

Somewhere in my head and heart, I thought someday, maybe I will go Pro, it was all over now. Not only did I leave the bulls behind but also a lot of good friends. It was just to hard to hang around the rodeo and not ride. Construction was still the main income and I knew I didn't want that to be my career choice. So I made a change...Sales Rep, I'm not a very good sales person.

My wife, Tamara was ready to leave me and told me I had better figure out what I was going to do with my life. I came to her one day and told her I was going to the Police Academy. Not a good day at the casa.

FIRST TIME JITTERBUGS

2005-02-23T19:19:00.000-08:00

This is a first for me. I've never even heard of blog before yesterday. My friend and Co-worker, Jack has been writing for a semi-long period, almost a year. He kept it private, due to the fact that he was concerned that it might be a problem at our place of work.

Anyway, I'm sitting at work and an Officer from a different department comes into my office and asked me if I had seen this web site. He gives me the site and as soon as I see it I know it belongs to Jack. So I start reading and man 'o man is it good. Well, now I feel a little bad because once he finds out we know it's him, he terminates it. Prior to Jack destroying pages I read quiet a few entries. Jack has tons of fans who don't want him to stop, so today I tried my best to keep Jack on-line. However, he does not know what he wants to do. So, I write this in regards to Jack.

There are few people in the world with the ability to write and to write well. If you decide not to write about the crime we fight everyday that's fine, just keep writing. Don't let the people down who for some reason, feel they must read what you write. Some I'm sure because they have nothing better to do, some, because it's takes them on a ride and others to learn what life is like when you don't have the blinders on. If you don't write for yourself, then write for your fans or peers or whatever you want to call them. Jake don't miss out on something that has made you proud, I know your ego...hell, I see it everyday. Don't stop writing.

Your friend...BladeRunner.