Foxylibrarian.com

The other morning I had a cop pull me over and scream at me for running a red light on my bike. Earlier I had spotted the cruiser out of the corner of my eye, so I didn't blow through the light like I usually do, and even though traffic was dead, I waited until the opposite light changed before going. There is a two second time delay before my light turned green, however, so I was “offsides” a few seconds. The police officer pulled up beside me and started screaming and threatening me with a $300 ticket. I sensibly groveled and apologized and gave her zero attitude so she eventually let me off with a verbal warning, all delivered in a tirade from the air conditioned comfort of her car. I had to laugh because this incident took place in the seediest, most dangerous part of town, and after she sped off I looked around me and spotted all sorts of flagrant malfeasance: trannie prostitutes, crack smoking, drug deals, a group of junkies squatting and searching for a vein, their Pit Bulls and filthy possessions spread out, completely blocking and making the sidewalk impassable. I’m sure that the cop was tired of seeing splattered bicyclists, so I hope this accounted for her highly emotional reprimand, but I suspect there was also an element of laziness and cowardice on her part, in that it was much easier to yell at the librarian bicyclist than deal with any of the more serious violations glaring at her from all directions. It was was a scene straight out of Reno 911!, which I recently discovered and now consider the most brilliant and hilarious show on television, at least to me. I often feel as if the writers and actors are reaching inside my brain to act out what I find funniest in the world.

For example - there is a scene in the opening credits in which the inept cops are trying to corral a man outside his trailer home. The man, a mulletted, shirtless dirtbag, is howling and blindly staggering around, a metal Lawn Dart embedded in the front of his skull. To me, there is nothing funnier than Lawn Darts; in fact, all you have to do is say the words Lawn Darts, and no matter what kind of mood I am in, I will start giggling. Why any company thought that that toy was a good idea in this country of drunken, litigious idiots is beyond me. And by the way, please check out the Wikipedia entry, where some Lawn Dart apologist claims that the toy, when used responsibly and according to directions, is no more dangerous than a game of basketball, and that ‘almost all’ fatalities involving lawn darts are alcohol related. Indeed, how tragic and unfair that the nanny state will deny future generations the pleasure and joy of Lawn Darts and the subsequent emergency room visits. There was actually a Lawn Dart question on Jeopardy the other night, something along the lines of “Ronald Reagan signed a law banning the sale of this toy on December 19, 1988.” As all three contestants stared blankly, I (and every other redneck Jeopardy fan across America) screamed at the television, “LAWNDARTS! LAWNDARTS, YEW MORONS!” None of the contestants got it, and I was completely disgusted.