Personal Discretion is Advised

The following blog has been rated R for adult language, adult content, nudity, substance abuse, audacity, tenacity, crassness, reality checks, and blatant honesty.

Please remove the children from the room.

I got pulled over today on my way home from work. The officer was respectful to start, as I always am to an officer of the law, provided the respect is mutual. He asked me if I had any weapons in the car.

"I have a folding pocket knife clipped to my right pants pocket. I should mention though, that I don't carry it for use as a weapon. I carry it for use as a tool... not a weapon."

Let me mention that I had a bad day, and the only way to remedy a bad day is to force laughs. To force a laugh with a cop is sheer recklessness, but  my "Fuck It" face was already on.

"Are there any other weapons in the vehicle?"

"Yes sir."

[officer grips his holstered pistol, awareness heightened]

"What kind of weapon do you have?"

"I can't tell you that sir."

"Where is your weapon?"

"It's in my pants."

"Step out of the vehicle, please."

I assured the officer that I have respect for lawmen and that I have no ill will. I made sure that he saw my hands at all times and that my movements were deliberate and slow, just to make him feel comfortable.

"I'd like you to SLOWLY and KINDLY remove your weapon and surrender it to me."

"I can't."

"You won't?"

"No, I CAN'T."


This made him nervous and unbutton his gun holster. He immediately doubted the trust that I had given him from the start.

"WHERE IS YOUR WEAPON?!"

"I told you sir, it's in my pants."

He withdraws his firearm and points it at my heart.

"Hand it over."

Traffic begins to slow on the highway, as commuters see a state trooper pointing a loaded gun at a guy with his hands in the air.

"I Can't, Sir!!!"

"WHY NOT?!"

"BECAUSE IT'S ATTACHED TO MY CROTCH. I assure you sir, I've used it many times before, I fully intend to use it again, but I ASSURE YOU that I will NOT use it on you. You're not my type."

He pauses. Ponders. Lowers his weapon. Looks down for a moment. Looks back to me to see the shit-eating grin on my face. His facial expression then matched mine.

"You fuckin' with me, boy?"

"The whole time, officer."

And then I bought him a beer.

I turned a bad day into a good day through the strength of laughter.