http://www.star-telegram.com/metro_news/story/257747.html
I was so hopeing when I saw this on the news it wasn’t the store around the corner…But I knew it was.
Must … not … bitch … any … more … about … Texas … than … already … have.
I try not to make eye contact in this neighborhood…and I don’t go into dollar stores…
Well…that and they can’t reach my head.
That’s the same newspaper that in April 1990 ran the front-page headline “POODLE SLAIN BY ARROW” in huge letters. Someone sent that to me; I have it squirreled away somewhere. (And it was, too. Someone shot little Fluffy with a bow and arrow.)
This is why I’m nervous around extroverts.
Some clerks are clueless. I couldn’t talk for a couple days. I wrote a note saying lost my voice, and I took it into the stores. I showed it to the clerks when they tried talking to me. One lady never stopped asking questions. Apparently she didn’t associate my note and silence with that fact I wouldn’t be answering her questions about why I couldn’t talk and how I liked the weather.
That’s why I hate the South. Everyone trying to make poilte conversation with perfect strangers. Here in the Northeast, the headline would have read “Chatty Kathy struck in the head with tire iron for not shutting the fuck up”.
I’m gonna add this to my pile of “inexplicable inhuman human behavior”, next to the story of that woman who hit a guy with her car and left him to die, stuck through her windshield, in her garage.
Hell, and I was pissed that my house got ding-dong-ditched and egged last night.
I understand egged, but what’s “ding-dong-ditched”???
That’s where you ring a doorbell and run, so when the person answers the door, there’s no one there. A source of amusement for grammar-school-age kids.
So, I was on way way to roast coffee, around midnight, and had just made it to the union gospel mission when someone started a firefight out in front of my house. My wife called me in a panic…she heard 6 shots in rapid succesion…then a couple of weaker sounding pops…then some more loud ones. I damn near ran over some wandering homeless folk in the middle of the street turning my car around and headed back to the house while I told her to call 911.
I got to the house, and grabbed my mag lite and my gun and carefully went round the house and behind the rotting old hulk of a travelall in my driveway just to make sure nobody was hold up there bleeding to death or something. Then I stood out in the middle of the street and waited over an hour for the cops to show…they never did.
I really really hate this neighborhood.
Egads. That happened in Fort Worth too. (You knew that when you posted, right?)
Reminds me of the story of Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby.
Isn’t it Little Sambo and the tar baby?
Oh, wait, nevermind. I just realized Sambo was the tigers who turned into butter.
See, this is why Disney needs to re-release Song of the South.
You couldn’t speak, and they couldn’t read or think.
Here is one from July in Green Bay. A guy drove the car so it’s not the story you referred to.
THAT’S what it’s called now? We did it in my day, but we called it – please bear in mind that this was Texas and very long ago – “nigger knocking.”
I read about that one! From here in SEATTLE. :eek: 
And then CSI did an ep that was frighteningly similar except it was some up’n’coming lawyer. I about crawled over the back of my couch to get away from the repro. Jeebus.
…Somehow I’d failed until now to realize that it happened in my hometown.