My Swollen Trigger-Finger Matters More

#blacklivesaintshit
Blacks Down Update:

draw-concealed-carry
My big problem this morning; fuck a dead rockstar, the #GoldenGlobes or #Powerball. It’s my trigger finger. It hurts somethin’ awful after a busy weekend. Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad for the success of BDM and all, but contrary to popular opinion the Blacks-Down Movement does have its downside.
Number 1) it slows up the workload. Think about it: there are all these other crimes going on, from every culture, including domestic issues, robberies, B&Es, assaults, driving infractions and (of course) petty larceny. Truth be told, I get to knock out 2 birds with one stone since many times the Blacks are stealing shit and driving uninsured, unregistered and unlicensed. But I s’pose that’s bdm logo copyeconomics/not my problem. They need to get their shit in order. Hispanics ain’t too far behind, either. Then again, it’s about who gets caught and who gets away with it, yes? So then, maybe it’s about who the target is. But now that the movement is on fire they want us to zero-in on the Blacks in particular. And I see I’m ignoring all the other crap that everyone else is doin. Number 2) Besides slowin up my workload, someone’s takin accountability here. Maybe nobody on the force, but these fuckin community advocacy groups are throwing numbers up online all the time, and the media is broadcasting that. So it’s really creating a stir. I mean, people are starting to notice the agenda. And of course, if they recognize the agenda it may shed more light on the movement. So you talkin’ more paperwork, more internal investigations, and of course more fuckin press. The old-timers tell me once upon a time the press did nothin but support us. But now the press is every Tom, Dick and Harry that shows up at the crime scene with a smartphone. Plus more people are picketin and marchin and complainin now like it’s the 60s again. Fucking nuisances. Set aside all that, there’s
Number 3) Which brings me back to my fuckin trigger-finger. This ain’t no paper cut whereas I can suck on it and heal it faster than you can say “glazed donut,” no this shit is swollen. I guess its sprained or I pulled somethin’. Sure, was a busy weekend tho. Pops would be proud of me. I took out total of six of ’em this weekend, even caught a mother of 3 who got belligerent durin a traffic stop. At first I couldn’t tell if she was Black or White or whatever on account of her light skin. That’s gettin harder and harder through the years considerin all this interracial shit. But then the chic opened up
her mouth, and I immediately figured her out: “Hood-bitch,! jackpot!” And the rest was easy “Pop-pop!” Of course, I said it to myself alone, even tho them cryin’ little bastards couldnt hear me from in her car, not to mention they could hardly see me shoot their momma with the windows all fogged up. And by the way, that’s a two’fer ain’t it? I mean, I should get more points for them seein as they got taken away by DFCS and all. Three more monkeys in the system, a cinch too. But is that my problem? You ask me, she should’ve shut her mouth and then there wouldn’t be a problem. Better yet, her tail light should’ve been workin. Oh, and there was that one I shot with the knife; well, it looked like a knife if you ask  me. Yeah the witnesses saw a wallet and his family’s probably gonna be bitchin’. But at the end of the day I thought it was a weapon, and it’s my word against his; and he’s left us now. Plus, I’ve been here before and the department and da’ judge decided in my favor. So there’s that. As for the kid in the playground? That’s the one I’ll never understand. That little fucker should’ve laid there and bled-out until paramedics maybe coulda saved his miserable soul. But the moment he budged, I caught ’em just right. Double-tap to the temple. That’ll learn ’em. But set aside all that, the fugitive we entrapped (I mean, heh-heh, caught) and the other one… the woman drivin her car into the barricade at the courthouse, it coulda been just like every other weekend. But it wasn’t because my trigger finger is now sprained from the extra work Icop-gun-drawnput in. Two of ’em Friday nite, Three on Saturday and one yesterday. Shit if it wasn’t a busy weekend. The wife is sayin’ i need  to see a doctor, but I’m afraid that may open up a can a worms; see we got our own little domestic thing goin. And what if they see the bruise on my wife’s face and start askin questions? And then there’s this swelling. Fuck! My finger is sprained, dammit! I can’t have the department givin’ me no desk job. I ain’t gonna do nothin but fall behind on the movement. So either way I’m gonna be losin; on one end there’s the pain and on the other, well, it’s fuckin embarrassing when BDM gets together, everybody braggin’ about who they shot and how, and then a guy like me comes up short. I ain’t never been short yet, but I can see the ones that have, and I’m not fittin’ to have the others starin at me like I’m a some no-good, half-baked cracker-slacker. Fuck that. I come through rain, snow, sleet or swole’ trigger-finger ‘n all. Oh yeah, and fuck #blacklivesmatter. In a lil’ while I’m gonna go back to showin ‘em why they don’t matter. I’ll be rested and startin’ a fresh eight-hour tour. Hopefully my finger will heal up some. It’s Monday ya’ know. Gotta keep the momentum since I’m on a winning streak. #blacksdown #blacklivesaintshit #whitelivesmattermore

Okay, so by now you know this is satire. If you don’t, maybe YOU are part of the problem; stereotypes, abuse of authority, racism (pick one). meanwhile, I hope this opens up dialogue. its not as if this guy DOESN’T exist. #wakeup #givepeaceachance