Also, I’ve discovered IP anonymizers seriously do not work the way folks assume they do. The gist of clandestine surfing software is to secret personal data. What happens, though, is that stats simply show the user went to a proxy then the proxy came to the site one hoped to conceal that he or she is visiting. In other words, when people go through a proxy to look at my sites, not only do I know who they are, I know that they are making an effort to hide who they are from me. Fascinating, eh? Bottom line: you want to be undetectable and unidentifiable? Stay. Off. The. Frigging. Internet. Definitely don’t come to my cyberspots.
Incidentally, judging by the relationship status recently added to Facebook, my State Policeman, Tony Gattuso, and pseudo wife apparently had a pseudo break-up; I guess that makes her pseudo single. I’m sorry, but, ya’d think that with all her education and all his training, they woulda come up with a little more innovative con. His repairing her house and mowing her lawn as she keeps better sight on him than a hawk does a snake just doesn’t represent separation. Lest it isn’t obvious by my tone, I don’t believe their split is legit.
Speaking of dumb and dirty State Policemen, on the 23rd of this month my bout with local VSP Trooper Brandon Long will be finalized. I intended weeks ago to finish my account of the interaction I had with him and Sgt. Bailey, however my hard drive died -- taking the audio of the exchange with it. It’s subsequently been resurrected plus backed-up, backed-up, backed-up. I hope to type the remainder of the report soon.
I got pulled over the other night for one of my tag lights being out. Of course when the officer ran my plate and license, the dispatcher kicked back all the gratuitous nonsense -- gang member with known drug ties, infamous anti-Law-Enforcement chick, ad vomitus. Next thing I know I’ve got a stationary train of three cruisers behind me with their bubbles flashing in full glory and a request to search my vehicle. Normally I would’ve refused on principle, but, feh, I was in the mood for some entertainment. “Knock yourselves out” I told them. I stood behind the car and chattered openly with one badge-wearer, watching as the pair of others nosed inside my auto. During the process, to check what kind of bulb I’d need to fix the violation I leaned over and barely bumped the unlit one. It illuminated immediately! Jeez. Only me.
The officials located the pouch of handgun ammunition, which I carry, again, on principle, in my trunk and emphasized worry. “What exactly is it about a bag of loose ammo that ‘concerns’ you? Whatcha think I’m gonna do -- flick a bullet at you?” I was impressed when the lawman I directed that at grinned. By that time, my demeanor had plainly put them all at ease anyway.
They let me go without a citation. I love me some decent cops.
“What about JADE?” you ask. “JADE who?” I reply. Ha! Well… my two years of “good behavior” are coming to an end. Freedom at last! Thing is, I can’t say I really give half a dang what the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force or its members are doing these days. I suppose I HeArTE JADE might become a place for ecumenical Law Enforcement coverage, although, shoot, it’s kinda that already, huh? By the by, good call Chief Longo. ;)
In conclusion, albeit with zero proper segue, a new or replacement scanner is still top o’ my wish list. C’mon. Help a girl out?
Obligatory police-related photographs: