Image via Wikipedia

One of my kids, I’m ashamed to say is a cop. He knows I’m ashamed of him being a cop. But, he doesn’t give a shit and he won’t look for honest work. To make things worse, he’s a traffic cop and rides around all the do-da-day, his head roasting in that spaceman helmet; handing out speeding tickets to Mexicans who ain’t gonna pay ‘em or go to court either. “Hee-hee-hee dat gringo pen-day-ho motherfucker giv-me a tee-kit, Ramon…Here bro, toss that fucking ting out dee we-n-do….Hee-hee.”
The only thing even remotely presentable about the outfit he wears are those spit-shined-knee-high-boots, that are beautiful enough to give one of those leather-man queers a purple, vein bulging ,raging hard-on for a week.
I tell him, “Son, the good Doctor Josef Mengle would have been lucky to have a pair as nice. And the only thing he can say back after receiving such a flattering comment is, “Who?”
Anyway, he says he’s gonna get me some picture of accidents involving eighteen-wheelers and bicyclists dressed in those silly-ass shirts and ass-padded shorts, but he hasn’t done it yet.
I’d really like to see something like that…Some healthy, tofu-eating, prick; who not a minute ago, was peddling and shifting his fifteen hundred dollar custom fitted bicycle down the road; taking up half the lane so you can’t pass the son-a-bitch; See him lying along side the road looking like somebody dropped a hundred and fifty pounds of hamburger on top of a grocery cart with a fancy paint job and big wheels.
You got one a those pictures, even a Polaroid? How ‘bout sending me a copy…?