They make Bitch scanners?

Not only do they make them, I be one.

The following is a true story. Names have not been changed because it's just too weird. Everyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty or too stupid to be allowed out loose.

I've spoken of Denzel before. Not a bright boy, has a prison record but mostly from being clueless rather than mean. He's the one with his name tattooed on his belly so he can ID himself when he's too drunk to remember his name.

In the middle of a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon, he and some of his like minded buddies are having a barbecue in the front yard. Bothering no one, grilling some steaks, drinking some beer. Two cars pull up, and out come several vegans who begin harrassing them for eating meat. Heber is a very small town in the middle of farm and ranch country. The vegans are local boys and are very assertive.

Shouting ensues. One of Denzel's buddies picks up a baseball bat by the thick end and flings it in the vegans' general direction. Vegans grab the bat and some pipe from a plumbing project at the house. One of Denzel's buddies pegs one of the vegans with an unopened beer bottle. Denzel comes out of the house with a .45 automatic pistol in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

The pistol gets knocked out of his hand and is taken by a vegan. Denzel fires the shotgun, missing anything important. The vegan returns fire, with equal "success."

The cops have been called. The neighbor is on the phone with the chief of police giving a play-by-play. Jim, Denzel's brother and Hubby's former boss and the only member of his immediate family never to have been in prison, has a police scanner at his home and is listening to the calls going out about a brawl with gunfire. Local cops, state police, Highway Patrol, and a SWAT team from Salt Lake have been called.

Chief of Police: "Wait, is this one of the Brown homes?" Source: "Yeah!" Chief: "Is this Denzel's house?" Source: ""Yeah!" Chief: "All units, converge on Denzel's house."

No address is given. All the units know where Denzel's house is. I'm assuming they had to tell the out-of-towners. Jim heads over himself.

When the Vegans hear the sirens, they break for their cars and drive off. Some of the units blockade the road, and the vegans U-turn and head the other way. The person who still had the .45 pistol throws it out the window at the cops. As Hubby says, "We're not going to need CSI for this one." The vegans are finally nabbed.

Back at Denzel's house, the riot squad has arrived. Denzel has locked himself in his house. His buddies all have their hands up and are looking resigned. The Chief of Police knocks on the door.

"Denzel, come out of there, and bring the shotgun!" "What shotgun!" "The shotgun that put all these holes in the side of the house and dropped shotgun shells all over the place!" "I want a lawyer before I come out!" "Denzel, your steak's burning and I don't think it's your fault! Get out here!"

Denzel comes out, the vegans are dragged back to the scene. The Chief can tell it wasn't Denzel & Co.'s fault, because most people don't set up the grill and start cooking before starting major fights with people who flee the scene. The city prosecutor, who also has a scanner, heads down to the house, and not long after, the judge shows up too. Everyone was going to end up in front of him anyway, so he might as well go to them. Besides, it would be a shame to burn the steaks. Denzel cooks one up for the judge.

Part 2

Jim arrives and says he'll be Denzel's lawyer. The neighbors come over to tell what happened. The vegans protest that this isn't the way it should be done, and the Chief offers to put them in cells. They shut up a little.

The baseball bat and the beer bottle throwing were ruled self-defense, but public brawling is still against the law. 60 days, 30 days suspended sentence.

One of the buddies had run when the guns came out, but when he heard the sirens he figured it was better to fess up than to get chased, so he came back. 15 days, suspended sentence.

Denzel is a parolee and isn't allowed to possess firearms, though the shotgun is allowed. The pistol wasn't his, but he shouldn't have grabbed it. He also shouldn't have discharged the shotgun within the city limits, and he shouldn't have aimed it at anyone. 120 days, 60 days suspended, time off for good behavior.

The vegans: Trespass with the intent to commit a crime, assault with a deadly weapon (shooting back at Denzel), possession of stolen property (taking the gun with them), resisting arrest, disturbing the peace, inciting a riot, public endangerment, and I think there might have been a terrorism charge in there somewhere, too. The shortest sentence was two years.

Jim convinced the judge to give the guys two days to take their cars home and to tell their families and bosses that they'd be on vacations for the next several weeks. As the Chief left, he made sure to tell them, "When you show up at jail, make sure you empty your pockets and don't bring any contraband." Once the authorities were gone, Jim asked Denzel what he had in his pockets. "A couple of joints." "Idiot."

I assume that in this story about the investigation into the deaths of two horses on the set of the remake of My Friend Flicka, when they say "American Human Association" -- they really mean, "American Humane Association."

Love that story.

My family is so fine and upstanding it makes me cry.

My boss and I have unconversations frequently. We have one actual conversation on Monday about everything that's coming up in the next week, and after that we can usually get along entirely without nouns until the following Monday.

Crap, how much do I not want to go to class right now? Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much. Approximately.

Oh. My.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the notion that there are wandering packs of militant vegans driving around searching for backyard barbeques to disrupt.

there are wandering packs of militant vegans driving around searching for backyard barbeques to disrupt

And they're probably expecting Jesse to write to them in prison.

God, my family suddenly seems so boring.

I think we now have twice as many college graduates as ex-cons, but when you factor in the mental illness and the psych ward drama... er, let me just say that we've learned not to ask where absent people are at the family Christmas.

there are wandering packs of militant vegans driving around searching for backyard barbeques to disrupt

In Utah we have to make our own fun.