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Blogging to you from the Northeastern Badlands of The County of Lake, in the state currently known as Fatmanistan, DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP inside the heartland of the Banana Republic formerly known as the USA, WELCOME TO THE NEXT CHAPTER! WARNING! ALL FORMS OF SOCIAL MEDIA ARE ADDICTIVE; EXCESSIVE USE MAY LEAD TO MENTAL HEALTH DISORDERS, REDUCED JOB PRODUCTIVITY, INSOMNIA, SOCIAL ALIENATION, GENITAL ULCERS, BLINDNESS, POLITICAL EROTICISM, AND / OR DEVIANT FUNAMBULISM. NOTICE: NO GUNS OR AMMUNITION ARE FOR SALE VIA THIS BLOG. (No, I will not trade my Colt Python for some lubricious adventures with your trophy wife and a future first-round draft pick.) CAVEAT: This blog is not suitable for viewing while at work, while inside a public library, while inside any public or private school, or while inside any public or private restroom. Do not view this blog while driving a motor vehicle or while piloting an aircraft. Viewing this blog may be illegal inside the EU, NYC, Chicago, Seattle, and other parts of the Third World. THIS BLOG CONTAINS (albeit often very childish) ADULT-CONTENT. DISCLAIMER: This blog is a hobby, it is not a livelihood. Even though much of what I blog about relates to firearms collecting and recreational shooting, I am not an expert (by any measure) on any facet of guns, shooting, hunting, or personal defense. Entries at this blog are akin to good old-fashioned campfire chats or post hunt bourbon-fueled barroom-bluster; I offer no opinion on what you should or should not purchase, or what you should be using or doing. What does or does not work for me could be rugged-country-miles away from your tastes and your needs. All products, places, and miscellany that I review for this blog are purchased / rented / leased at retail price by me. I do not accept payment, gifts, discounts, freebies, products on loan, distilled spirits, recreational pharmaceuticals, plea-bargains, probation, parole, Papal Blessings, Presidential Pardons, or sexual favors for doing any review or blog post. TRACKING COOKIES: Google et al stick tracking cookies on everybody. If you are online, you are being spied on via one method or another, for one reason or another; 'nuff said. You may be able to minimize your online DNA residue by using Tor and Duck Duck Go. Vive la liberté! Vive all y'all! Ante omnia armari. To each of you, thanks for stopping by!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The sounds of sadness and madness via local police radio

.

Like the hundreds of other police calls that I hear every week, this one likely will not make the news.

Security personnel at a local Wal-Mart confronted a female shoplifter who then promptly sprinted from the store to her car and proceeded to race out of the parking lot for a clean getaway… leaving behind her 4-year-old daughter in the store.

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By at

6 comments:

  1. Arthur B. BurnettJanuary 13, 2011 at 3:45 PM

    Greetings from Texas,
    My heart goes out to the child, as I'm sure does yours. The poor little thing had to be terrified. I hope there is a happy ending here. She (the little girl) will be in my prayers.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Z@XJanuary 13, 2011 at 4:07 PM

    Yeah, it sure is a crazy world that kids grow up in...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Bob S.January 13, 2011 at 4:31 PM

    Wonder if that could be considered abandonment and reason to place the child in a foster home.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Z@XJanuary 13, 2011 at 5:22 PM

    Bob, my guess is that you are correct; yet another waif to be processed by the renowned Illinois Department of Children and Family Services.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Arthur B. BurnettJanuary 14, 2011 at 3:55 AM

    Back in 2000 / 2001 I worked as a Mall Santa. Don't ever let anyone tell you that isn't work.

    One afternoon I had two women come in with about ten pre-teen and early teen girls. We didn't have a line at the moment, so they came up to see me. They were all too old to believe, but they wanted to talk to Santa.

    It turned out they all had been recently taken by Child Protective Service and would be spending Christmas in a foster home. The only thing any of them told me they wanted was to go home, and - or, be with their familys.

    And they were all old enough to understand what was happening.

    Sponsering each of them to a slice of Pizza and a drink was both the least, and the most, I could do.

    I pray every year that is the worse Christmas they ever face.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Z@XJanuary 14, 2011 at 11:00 AM

    Art, you are a good soul. Thanks for sharing that. Maybe some wishes still come true...

    ReplyDelete

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