Buy Pepper Spray

Boy oh boy! Yesterday I thought I would have a little fun quoting Big Frank and his opinion, and a whole bunch of people got upset because they thought I was dissing their favorite rock star. My point really was that Big Frank would know how to handle a mook, and that he could really sing, unlike many rock and rollers, who can only shout with the best of them.

I’ve read emails that remind me of groups or bands like the Beatles, Buddy Holly, Stones (which according to Mick, if you could shout at the top of your lungs, and could play three chords, then you could be a rock star), El Viz, Jim Croce, Jim Morrison (this one is a real three chord wonder man, and I don’t give a damn what you say, for me he’s no poet), and the list could go on and on and on.

I listened to this kind of stuff as I grew up, and have watched many live band performances and concerts at various venues around the country. I still like listening to some of it but in small doses, not too loud, because in so many ways, I’ve moved on. But it doesn’t mean though that I don’t play a Led Zeppelin CD anymore, it just doesn’t happen very often now.

There are three guys my age on a public television station here who have a weekly rock and roll show where they discuss the minutiae of bands, concerts, and rock and roll, and all I can think of when I listen is; what a colossal waste of time and energy.

I don’t really care what a drug addled Jerry Garcia said backstage at a concert in 1993. I don’t have the time to wonder that the lyrics of song really meant back in 1978, or if the dude was high on acid when he wrote it. I’ve moved on, and so have all the others who have achieved something in their life.

My calling, as I see it, is to try and protect as many people as I can from falling into the clutches of mooks, and in particular violent mooks, who hurt folks just as easily as they would eat a burger, and with no remorse.

Some school of thought out there thinks that all this chaos, adversity and unrest is a result of inequality and other excuses. But we all know that this reasoning is a bunch of bunk.

Life is what you make it, so a junkie becomes a junkie because they allow themselves to be one, they made that a choice, a bad choice. It’s no sweat being a junkie, but holding a job is hard. They find satisfaction and excitement in intimidating people, rushing them and grabbing what rightfully not theirs.

I have a police friend who told me about a crook whom he arrested just a week ago, after the crook tried to rob a couple at a local mall. The crook was so clueless that the couple he tried to rob were the vigilant kind, so the husband sprayed him with some Wildfire pepper spray, the suspect got hurt instead of the victim, the crook found himself with a huge patch of dye on his face. So as for the part of my police friend, it’s made easy for them, cause it only took them two minutes to identify the perpetrator.

The mook cried in the back seat of the cruiser, bellowing about how the spray should be illegal. “Nobody should be able to paint my face!” he said. “Once he painted my face, I didn’t have a chance!” he said.

And if you think mooks get back on the street fast now, wait till B.O. starts appointing judges. It won’t be just occasional loons giving rapists 60 day sentences, like in Vermont and Nebraska. Oh no, mooks, even illegal moooks, will have more rights than ever before, and sentences will be more and more lenient as we try more rehabilitation.

It’s going to be a long four years, so buy pepper spray!