Happy birthday, CCB!

Happy Friday, everyone! Things have been very busy here at The Compound. The better part of the day was spent preparing for the one-year CCB Gala this evening. In fact, so much actual work went into preparing for this evening’s Gala that I failed to post to the blog.

Also, Happy (belated) St. Patrick’s Day…we could use a little of St. Patrick here at The Compound as spring comes on and snakes emerge from  their winter quarters…yeesh. Instead, it’s just St. (sic) Robin with a .410 blasting holes in the ground while dancing an Irish jig in German lederhosen.

Also, Happy (belated) CCB Day! Woo hoo! Who knew that when I started this modest little blog one year ago (yesterday) that it would grow into the fiasco it has become. So, in honor of our one-year of operation, we’ll have pizza and drinks here at The Compound until I fall asleep at 7:30…Wiley Piemore and His Prairie Dawgs are expected to take the stage at some point. It’s a Gala, people…let’s celebrate. It’s rare that I’m able to focus attention on anything for more than a year! Just ask any of my ex-wives…hahaha.

Oh, if you come…bring pizza and alcohol. Oh, and those filterless Pall Malls for The Wife…it makes her happy.

Oh, AND if you’re a big time agent searching for a blog to syndicate, bring a contract and your checkbook…I’ll work for cheap. Just ask that daily periodical that won’t allow me to mention their name in this blog.

While I was out yesterday buying cheap party decorations from the dollar stores in Cosmic City, Friend Lamont and Cousin Fred were busy packing Friend Lamont’s RV for our journey to Colorado on Monday to begin our pre-production boondoggle…er, work…in connection with our new reality show “The Bigfoot: Naked and Untamed”.

The boys have packed so much crap that we decided to take Cousin Fred’s abode, which is of course Hellkat One’s former travel trailer, aptly named the Governess. That gives us more space to store supplies and room for Lassie the barking goat when she and/or Cousin Fred gets to smelling funky.  

But enough of that until Monday. Friends, have you ever lied to the police? Sure you have, we all have on some level I suppose. Hopefully, you weren’t Tased for your trouble. And, if you were, hopefully, you lapsed into a coma and didn’t feel the pain as you writhed on the ground with Officer Sadistic standing over you screaming, “So, who’s in charge now, huh Writhing Boy?”

As your favorite blogger, my advice to you (and, yes, you’ve heard me say this before) is to never lie to the po-po. They get lied to all the time. They can literally smell a lie from a 100 meters.

Oh, sure, you may get lucky and draw a Barney Fife who will believe your tale. Most won’t. Trust me on that.

What made me think of all of this is that I was looking through the stories on the KFOR-TV web site this morning and came across the story of a woman in Tuttle, OK who was pulled over by the police.

At first she gave Officer McTuttle a fake name. When that began to fall apart, she announced that was actually an FBI informant trying to bring down the Irish mob and he (the officer) was horning in on her action.

Irish mob? In Tuttle, Oklahoma? Seriously? Pretty sure you have to go to Tulsa for that kind of action. Maybe if she had told McTuttle she was trying to bring down a pack of .410-wielding snake shooters, he would have bought it.

When the FBI informant story fell through. She was like, “Okay, okay, truth be told, I’m really working undercover for DEA.” Okay, now that sounds more credibly Oklahoman than Feebs after Irish mob.  She could have said that she was after Mr. Big who is running a mobile meth lab somewhere in the vicinity.

But, alas, our intrepid Officer McTuttle didn’t buy into the whole DEA thing either.
What’s a girl to do?

One last shot. She told him that she was actually working undercover for the Moore Police Dept. and she wasn't lying this time. Really.

All of this gave McTuttle an entrée (not the frozen meal kind) into her vehicle where he found: 1) a bag full of someone else’s mail, 2) software for making your own checks, and, 3) checks that she printed for herself.

There’s more investigating going on, but our hapless mob-chaser sits in the Grady Co. jail.

Let this be a lesson to you budding felons. If you’re going to lie to the po-po, for goodness sakes make up something that can’t be checked. Try telling them you’re working for CIA. If they call CIA and ask if you work there, they’ll always get the same answer…”We’re not at liberty to discuss this or any other person who may or may not have been at any point in time in the employ of the Center for Information in America. Good bye.”

Happy birthday, CCB!

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