When I got out of work today, I was approaching a traffic light when I noticed a city cop behind me. I’m always nervous whenever I see a cop right behind me and I end up driving worse because I’m worrying about him/her instead of paying attention to my driving. And that’s exactly what happened. I was worried because I remembered that I didn’t have my stickers on my plates yet. I knew I had until the end of the day or before leaving tomorrow morning so I put it off until the last minute. Although I knew that I couldn’t be picked up on the same day my registration runs out, I was wondering and worrying about it. There was one car in front of me at the traffic light. Because I was so busy observing the cop in my rear view mirror, the car in front of me turned left, and I just assumed that the light was green and I just went blindly through the light without really looking to see if the light had turned green. The cop also had his left blinker on when he was waiting behind me so I thought he was going down to the police station because the police station is on the end of that street. Instead of turning left, I looked and saw his blue lights flashing. I went down the road a little ways until I found a good place to pull off the road. I pulled out my registration with the stickers still stapled to it and as I handed it to the officer, I said, “Here are my stickers right here. I just haven’t gotten around to putting them on yet.” I thought that’s why he stopped me because I wasn’t even aware at that point that I had done anything wrong. He said, “You just went through a red light.” I said, “I was so nervous because you were behind me. When the car in front of me started turning, I just thought that it was okay to go. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” Luckily, he must have been in a good mood and he didn’t give me a ticket. I said, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful.” He said, “Please.”
Lucky…he could have given you a $150 ticket…
I would be so pissed.
Good to hear things went ok.
You must be pretty.
Its a bitch being paranoid. That’s the irony…the fucking cops cause you to fuck up half the time.
Speaking of paranoia…there is a guy sitting beside me this very moment. He just recently came over and sat down. He has a cup of coffee, and before he took the first sip…he put his hands together and closed his eyes, as if he were praying. Three minutes ago I saw him outside the window…taking a picture of me with a camera he has with him. I’ve got eyes like a hawk…and a special surprise for this guy if he fucks with me.
[grin]
Who is he? Who sent him? Who does he work for? I haven’t a fucking clue. These motherfuckers are all over me. I’ve seen the same cars following me around for the past few weeks. Something is going down people, and the motherfuckers are about to meet their worst nightmare.
I have a request. If I don’t show up here at least once every other day, please inform the police department in your area about my situation. I’ve got this terrible feeling in my gut like I’m gonna be assasinated in the near future.
I’m gonna follow this guy beside me when he leaves and see what makes him tick.
Yup, just as I thought. He’s not from around here. Everybody in here is a local and comes here often. This guy walked right past the dish bin with his empty coffee cup. Everbody knows you put your dishes in the bin when you leave.
Gotta go.
[tightens head band and laces boots]
Hey detrop, if you feel you’re gonna get shot, could you lay off the pot for a few days until it blows over? You’re both less paranoid and more alert that way.
You are on pot, right?
Right?
Detrop?
I got em.
I followed him into the parking lot and watched him get into his car. I’ve got his plate numbers and his car model.
I moved quickly to the driveway exit without him seeing me and purposely stepped in front of his car when he was pulling out, but I made it appear as an accident. He hit the brakes one foot in front of me, of course, and when he looked up at me I winked at him with a sinister smile.
He now knows I know.
…
No Zeus, I haven’t smoked pot in almost two weeks. I’m homeless and the money I have I’m saving. I can’t afford to buy pot right now.
Look man, don’t fuckin question me.
Oh brother. Now the guy’s buddy is here sitting to my left. Clean cut guy, well dressed, and he’s got a backpack with a tiny dark lense below the upper zipper. The bag is facing me, and to his right.
He’s doing a cross-word puzzle. K, first of all, a guy like this does not go into a coffee shop to do cross-word puzzles. Please. He should be reading a book. That is far less obvious.
I wanna know who wrote the tactical text book for the FBI. This guy must be a trainee. He has minimal field experience and couldn’t be more obvious.
[sigh]
Let’s see what he does. I’ll keep you posted.
To be honest, I’d be worried that the FBI were even more incompetent than I take them to be if they weren’t following you.
You are finding your way to the moral of a story that is developing quite well.
If I fear for my life, I might react violently, and yet it is because of such espionage practiced by the FBI that causes me to be affraid.
If I have said something that has me flagged as a possible threat, and am being followed by the FBI, and the FBI has a history of “making people dissappear,” in the event that I am actually not a threat (which I’m not), I might become a threat BECAUSE I am affraid of them and am protecting myself.
Big brother is, at this point, putting his head up his own ass.
I specialize in revealing the errors and contradictions of this institution. If the FBI do not agree with my points here they are either incompetent or liars.
Okay. I feel better now. Another guy came in, an enormous fella, and he sat down beside the other guy. They appear to be friends.
Now this new guy can’t be an FBI agent. There is no fucking way. He couldn’t possibly pass the physical training course being that big. This guy can barely walk he’s so fat.
…unless they know that I know this, and have sent this guy in thinking I would lose my suspicion when I saw him.
[the plot thickens]
But wait! What’s with the lense in the backpack?
Ah, I got it. These guys are into porn and they are getting shots of me because they are homosexual and want my pics for their personal pleasure.
My next question is: which role does the fat guy play? Is he the bitch, or is the little guy the bitch? I should ask them.
You’re going through withdrawal. It’s perfectly natural.
Thank you, Doctor.
He’s dead, Jim.
No!
I’m alive!
I’m aaaaaaaalive godamn you, and I feel great!
Except I haven’t taken a shower in so long…I don’t even stink anymore.
[looks around and whispers to zeus]
[size=75]Pssst…Zeus, tell them they’ve been warned, will you?[/size]
You’re sure you’re off the frassygrass?
Pleeeeeeese stop asking me that question, Zeus.
Yes. I haven’t done anything but caffeine and nicotine in almost a month now.
My head is clear. I am not hallucinating, or hearing voices, or swatting crawling spiders off of me, or listening to dogs tell me to kill people.
The only thing that would make me as crazy at this point is the fact that I would devastate the people who are fucking with me if I got my hands on them. I’m talking about an ass-whooping that would put them in a wheel-chair, if not underground.
…and the fact that my posts are still being edited.
I copied the post above onto a notepad so that I could compare it to the post above once it was entered.
My post read “…only thing that would make me crazy at this point.”
It did NOT read “…only thing that would make me as crazy at this point.”
Keep an eye out for shit like this. I’m telling you man, this place is a wasteland full of slimy little people.