gotpasswords
04-16-2004, 03:16 PM
For the uninitiated, Arcata is a small town on the Northern California coast, about 4 hours north of San Francisco. It's home to a lot of normal folks, as well as a lot of hippies, stoners, campers and other types passing through that bring spice to life and misery to residents.
The Arcata police log is written by Kevin Hoover for the Arcata Eye, (http://www.arcataeye.com/police04/index.shtml) and he's got quite a way with words. Good enough to have a book published, but I'll leave discovery of that to you.
A couple translations - The Pink House is the police station, the Intermodal Transient Facility is the bus station and the Schwazz or Plaza is a park downtown where no skateboarding, dogs or drumming are allowed.
For your enjoyment, here's a sampling gathered from a few months' worth of logs - hopefully, this is a small enough sample so as not to rile the copyright cops:
8:02 p.m. A man got an early start on getting shitfaced, or at least cement-faced, running aground on the Plaza’s southeast quadrant. From there he was peeled from the pavement and Pink-plopped.
10:27 a.m. A backpack and it’s tempting nougat center, a wallet, disappeared from a car parked don Old Arcata Road.
11:44 p.m. Someone acted out their issues on a peaceable gumball machine in a Plaza tav, leaving it punched and broken.
1:34-1:45 a.m. When alcohol nullifies one’s ability to outwit gravity in public, it’s time for a temporary trip to the tank.
1:48 a.m. No license plate or headlights. That’s kind of a dealbreaker when it comes to driving.
2:10 a.m. As is driving around on Samoa Boulevard with flammable blood.
If you've got some time to kill, head over there and read it for yourself.
The Arcata police log is written by Kevin Hoover for the Arcata Eye, (http://www.arcataeye.com/police04/index.shtml) and he's got quite a way with words. Good enough to have a book published, but I'll leave discovery of that to you.
A couple translations - The Pink House is the police station, the Intermodal Transient Facility is the bus station and the Schwazz or Plaza is a park downtown where no skateboarding, dogs or drumming are allowed.
For your enjoyment, here's a sampling gathered from a few months' worth of logs - hopefully, this is a small enough sample so as not to rile the copyright cops:
8:02 p.m. A man got an early start on getting shitfaced, or at least cement-faced, running aground on the Plaza’s southeast quadrant. From there he was peeled from the pavement and Pink-plopped.
10:27 a.m. A backpack and it’s tempting nougat center, a wallet, disappeared from a car parked don Old Arcata Road.
11:44 p.m. Someone acted out their issues on a peaceable gumball machine in a Plaza tav, leaving it punched and broken.
1:34-1:45 a.m. When alcohol nullifies one’s ability to outwit gravity in public, it’s time for a temporary trip to the tank.
1:48 a.m. No license plate or headlights. That’s kind of a dealbreaker when it comes to driving.
2:10 a.m. As is driving around on Samoa Boulevard with flammable blood.
If you've got some time to kill, head over there and read it for yourself.