Police Training and Blogging
Sorry I haven’t been writing much, lately. Work has sorta interfered with this important shit. I had to work late Saturday and Sunday, and I have been in training AAAAALLLLLL DDDDAAAAYYYY! Granted, it was fun training, but it was AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL DDDDDDDDAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!
It all started around 0730 hrs. with a pursuit driving refresher. There aren’t many things in this world more fun than taking a police interceptor crown vic and pushing it to it’s limits. Well, except maybe making fun of your coworkers as they have a hard time grasping the technique. You know, doing stuff like driving with two feet, steering with body english, and generally committing genocide against the orange plastic cone population.
See, the course is set up like this: A shit load of cones in a small parking lot. There is actually a course, but until you get it figured out, it looks like a sea of orange cones that were placed by an epileptic chihuahua. Some people have a really hard time figuring out where to go which prompts them to massacre the poor defenseless orange cones. This senseless act of violence then prompts responses from the instructors like, “The child you just killed was small, but he had a twin brother, so it’s alright” or “You know there are plenty of employment opportunities in the jail.” Good times all around.
That finished up around 1330 hrs. Then a brief break to go eat, and relax until 1800 hrs. when it was time for shooting in the dark. Shooting in the dark is always fun because it’s shooting, and it’s dark. While I shot a 93 out of 96, others were not so lucky. In every class there are always those old guys that were on the road 30 years ago or whatever, and that are now relegated to court room security, or some other less than law enforcement capacity because they are politically connected or whatever. Those cats are interesting. There’s nothing like the sparks of bullets ricocheting off cement in the dark. You know, the cement 4 yards in front of the target.
Finally, it was time for whoop ass. Tonight’s menu consisted of shrimp. Not the kind you eat, but the maneuver used to avoid being mounted while on your back causing carpet burns all across the small of your back. A very helpful tool to have, especially if the phrase “I don’t get down like that” doesn’t work. I’m not so sure it could protect you from an overly-amorous Royce Gracie, but it works on other cops. Then on to escaping from choke holds and headlocks. Basically, it was two hours of me and friends throwing each other on the floor repeatedly. What better way to say “I appreciate your friendship” than putting your buddy in a chokehold, and letting him slam you to floor.
It all ended around 2130 hrs. Needless to say, I’m tired, and sore. I’ll be going to bed soon. As soon as I stop rambling incoherently from fatigue. I like Corn Pops. Did you know if you sneak up on an armadillo, and kick it, it jumps about four feet in the air? This one time, I got a weedeater, a live chicken, a nine iron, and a naked woman and…*yawn*