Assorted Crises in Progress

by pjmcbride

zombie firefighter

zombie firefighter (Photo credit: Rob Ireton)

The mate of the Beast has brought forth another cub! Yes! They now have a litter! The little ones are so cute, before they develop fangs and claws.

Nick, if someday Reid wants to know what happened in the world on the day he was born, you can show him this post. Explain, “She was an old lady I used to work with. She died a long time ago.”  (The alternative would be, “She’s that crazy old lady who keeps calling for the police at her house and then saying she wants me to mow the lawn.”)


A.J. dreamed that she was fighting a fire for 8 hours. So then I pictured her showing up at a fire scene, sleepwalking. It would be like a zombie firefighter. Seriously, zombies could be good firefighters. Just tell them there are brains inside the structure, and they would be heedless of all danger. (I can’t believe I just started a sentence about zombies with “Seriously.” It makes you wonder how often I actually am serious.)


You know, if you get a run in which the suspect is a white female, wearing a pink tank top, who has a small child with her and is stealing items from a dollar store, and then later get a run of the same from a different dollar store, you tend to assume you’re dealing with the same suspect. But that turned out not to be the case–it was just the Case of the Pink Tank Tops.  By the way, Pink Tank Gang, if you’re going to shoplift and might have to run from the cops, I advise against wearing flip-flops. Of course, I always advise against wearing flip-flops.


The height of human achievement is our new-found ability to dial a phone with our butts. But we can now dial with our boobs as well! A 911 hangup was made by someone who had tucked her phone in her bra. Surely she could hear the tiny voice of the dispatcher emanating from her chestal area? Speaking of which, I read an article saying, “Those clamshell cell phones that you open and close scream that you’re old.” Leaving aside the fact that clamshell phones used to be considered the epitome of cool–you can pretend you’re on Star Trek, after all–they make butt-dialing a non-issue, so who’s the fool now? The answer is, Not me.


–“You can’t dial 911 just because you need someone to talk to. I’m not your friend.”

–“I am not an alien.”

Well, if you’re not a friend and you’re not an alien, then what are you?