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KingsKlub

04/12/2018 11:34

You submitted Pretty girl gets executed by thugs. I want those thugs dead!

dastiffy

04/12/2018 07:08

Hi, Great news for me, I have wifi at this prison, Should be transferred back by the weekend, The Internet is for the guards and staff only, I was lucky enough to hack the password from a careless individual... that being said, I cannot do the que since it does not show up on this device, Have to go now, Count and then chow.
Gotta hid this thing up my ass ,see ya soon

Charredtorso

04/11/2018 22:56

SHE WANTS HER MONEY BACK


While working up on the California central coast, we represented the coroner/sheriff. They had two investigators in the Northern half of the county that were sheriff's deputies. Between 8 am and 3 pm Monday thru Friday (unless they were eating lunch or at a 4 hour meeting) morticians were dumber than rocks and they were in charge. After 3 pm, until 7:59 am at night and on weekends, those two assholes dumped every investigation on the local undertaker, then they would second guess our paperwork and evidence preservation. I pointed out the way they did business, incurring the wrath of both investigators.

We had a labor contractor living in our city. By all observations, he was a vicious individual. He beat his wife and children like Metallica's drummer on a regular basis. Mexican women do not "rat off" their husbands, so he got away with the beatings for years. He treated his crews of migrant laborers
just as badly. He would beat them up if they complained about long hours and short paychecks. Because the laborers were all illegals from Mexico, he would call immigration on his crews just before pay day and pocket the money. (This was long before California became a northern province of Mexico)

One morning, just after 08:00, when the REAL INVESTIGATORS took over their duty, they found a body tied to a tree outside of town, burned down to a giant lump of coal. The labor crew bosses car was burned out about 20 feet down a dirt road from the tree in question. The Einstein investigators, based on all of the above history, decided they could not make positive ID of the remains. There were no dental records from Mexico and the fingers were burned up and off.

The long suffering new widow showed up at the mortuary with the standard demand to see her husband. The investigators and I refused her request. The two cops refused to release the remains to the family because they did not have positive ID on the labor bosses body. The cops decided to play hard ball and we had the giant lump of coal in our morgue refrigerator for over three months, before the local media got a hold of the grieving widow.

Chiquita snotted and cried for the TV news camera and the photographer for the paper. A lawyer got some free advertising by representing Chiquita against the County. Finally, after six months, the Sheriff/Coroner gave in. By that time there was plenty of money to send "Papi" to go and beat up a few angels in heaven. The grieving widow put out mucho dinero for a funeralia grande. Our two REAL investigators showed up at the funeral and tried to suck up to the widow, to avoid a big civil suit.

During this entire episode, my contempt for these two clowns with badges grew and grew. I thought of a way to take them down a peg or two. After thinking it out (without my employer's knowledge or permission) I called the two ass clowns at their office. "Uh gentlemen, we have a big problem." "Yeah, what's the problem?" "The widow Garcia just got off the phone with me." (Not her real name)
"She said that her husband called her from Mexico last night and she wants ALL of the money back for the funeral." I could hear some gagging and stuttering on the other end of my phone. "So uh, do you want an exact amount so the county can cut me a check, so I can pay her back?" The investigator did a very good impression of Elmer Fudd and said he would call me back.

Neither of the investigators spoke a word of Spanish, so I knew they wouldn't contact Chiquita until they could find a Spanish speaker to talk to her. I also knew they were going to leave town that afternoon for a four day state homicide investigator's conference and golf tournament. The whole event was just an annual excuse to get shit faced drunk for three days and nights at their sponsoring agencies expense. The thought of those two turds stewing for four days and worrying about telling the Sheriff how they fucked up would ruin their drunken debauchery.

That following Sunday night, before they returned home, I left a message on their office answering machine. In a carefully worded message, I told them that a part time employee that spoke Spanish and I had done their job and got the widow to admit to an attempted hoax. After that incident, the investigators even managed to praise some of MY investigative work, done on their behalf and treated me like my parents MAY have been married. As I have said before: It's the simple things that bring joy to my heart.

Charredtorso

04/11/2018 22:07

Your illustrations are fantastic.

ThefriendlyPhyscopath

04/11/2018 19:54

Having trouble uploading sniper clip can I send it to you?

dastiffy

04/10/2018 18:13

Today has been pretty bad.

Charredtorso

04/08/2018 16:13

I DON'T KNOW HOW CRAZY YOU ARE...


I was working a one officer car in the South Central Ghetto. I didn't like to work days because they were more quiet than the swing shifts I worked most of my career. Thugs, gangsters and drug dealers don't get up and start doing "ill shit" until the early afternoons. Day shift is mostly devoted to writing reports about what happened on graveyard or the previous swing shift.

Right out of briefing, at around 6:20 am, myself and two other day shift guys got a call of a man screaming, running around in his boxer shorts in his front yard. We all rolled up together a few doors down from the listed address. There, in his boxer shorts, sitting in the middle of his driveway, was a mid 20's Afro-American.

What made the scene unusual and our of the ordinary was the 5 foot tall stuffed Rabbit he had in a scissor leg lock. He was also holding a large kitchen knife to the rabbit's throat. Immediately, the scene from the movie COLORS came to mind. "Drop the knife." "Fuck you." "Drop the knife now."
"Fuck you all....." This went on for a few minutes, while I tip toed back to my car and grabbed the Remington 870 shotgun and racked a round into it.

"Drop the knife NOW, or I'll turn you and the rabbit into Swiss shit!" "If I let the rabbit go, he'll kill us all..." Meanwhile, neighbors were emerging from their houses and enjoying the Ghetto Kabuki from their front lawns. The reviews from the audience were mixed. Shouts of "Shoot that mother-fucker" were mixed with "Leave him alone, he ain't did shit....."

Finally, 20 minutes into the drama, the field Sargent rolled up. After a brief briefing on the situation, Sarge pulled a PARTY SIZED container of pepper spray from his trunk. "Drop the knife and get on your stomach, or you'll get sprayed." And with the magic words of "FUCK YOU", Sarge let the pepper spray... fly. A massive fog of the irritant soaked Mister Boxers and the Rabbit. Mr. Boxer couldn't even choke out another Fuck You, before he began rolling around and screaming.

Now the neighbors were suddenly upset that we had hosed down Mr. Boxer. (I guess we could have shot him numerous times.) Bad words about police in general and our collective relationships with our mothers were offered by the 20 or so gathered at the scene. Sarge, had limited tolerance for unprovoked verbal abuse. "OK, next time, don't call us, we'll send an ambulance after he guts a few of you."

Mr. Boxer went to the Psyche Unit at County Hospital and the rabbit was released to the care and custody of Mr. Boxer's long suffering parents. The rabbit expressed no desire to press charges or kill anyone.

Charredtorso

04/06/2018 15:32

PAYBACK



After years of being a Mortician and being ignored, insulted and verbally abused by street cops and detectives, I went to work for the Los Angeles County Coroner. In California, the highest law enforcement official in most counties is the Coroner.

When the cops refused to provide me with information I needed for my investigation. I would call the station and ream the top cop working. They couldn't get the information to me quick enough. When cops would want to know "Where in the hell have you been?" I would get back in my car and offer to go back to where I came from. I was speeding to an officer involved fatal shooting and pulled over by the Highway Patrol. "Ok, give me a ticket Officer ________, when the officers at the scene want to know why it took so long to get their brother officer out of the street, I will drop your name.

Cops with limited exposure to gut and gore were often the target of my abuse. A shot gun suicide: "Officer, has he ever done this before?" A Heroin addict with terminal diarrhea: "Ok officer, you wipe his ass and I'll go get my cot....." Decomposed bodies often made cops, young and old puke. I would always challenge their masculinity and try to get them elbow deep in the mess.

As I have said often before. It is the simple things in life that bring joy to my heart.

Charredtorso

04/02/2018 21:41

DO YOU LIKE MY OUTFIT?


I was managing the mortuary up on the Central California Coast, when I got a call from the Sheriff/Coroner. "Stop whatever you are doing and get out to __________ address as fast as possible. "What's going on?" "Just get here and hurry." "Come by yourself....."

I threw an extra cot in our "meat wagon" along with extra plastic and a change of clothing, in case it
was something extra nasty. Every cop and sheriff's car in a 20 mile radius was parked near the house in question. Most of the cops were standing around in the front yard. Some cops were giggling, others were straight up laughing. Still others were visibly upset. Now, even I was curious, WTF was going on?

Inside the house, a city cop detective grabbed me and almost dragged me out to the garage. there in the garage was a VERY prominent member of the community. He had a woman's wig and make up on as well as a plus size Teddy, complete with mesh stockings. He had a ligature hanging from the garage rafter down and around his neck. His penis was sticking out of the pantie part of his outfit and a stack of gay porn magazines was spread out on the garage floor in front of his lifeless eyes. One of the magazines was almost completely "glazed." Cause of death: Auto erotic asphyxia. (look it up.)

The Local Chief of Police and the area Commander for the Sheriff's Department and the city Mayor walked up to me. His wife took the kids to (A town about 25 miles North) and will be back home any time. "DON'T TALK TO ANY OF THE MEDIA ABOUT THIS!" "We want to keep this as quiet as possible." "What do you want me to tell the wife when she shows up at the funeral home?" "We'll take care of it before that happens." "Ok"

The local radio station and the news paper were out front of the house. I differed all questions to the Sheriff and Chief of Police, then hauled ass before mom and the kids showed up. I called my employer, who was out of town, and told him what was going on. The following day, the new widow, her minister and a few family members showed up to complete the funeral arrangements.

"Mr __________, do you know how my husband died?" "Mam, didn't the Sheriff or police department give you any information?" "No, when I got home yesterday, they stood around for a while and left after my family and Reverend ________ got to my house." "I am sorry, the autopsy has been completed, but they are waiting for the Toxicology results to come back." "It appears that he asphyxiated." (It wasn't a lie, I just omitted some of the truth.)

We held the funeral for the prominent citizen three days later and it was a splendid affair, no one appeared to be the wiser. Two weeks later, the widow and her children stopped by to pick up the certified copies of the death certificate for legal purposes like insurance and transfer of title. The wife opened the envelope and nearly did a back flip when she saw the cause of death. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, MR________????" Asphyxia due to or as a consequence of Auto Erotic Compression of the
Trachea. No one that said they would, told the widow the details of her husband's unplanned and untimely death. They were all too embarrassed to tell her the truth.

I called the cops and the Sheriff. No one wanted to talk to the widow. When I told them I would have to do it, they were relieved. I called her minister and he showed up in 15 minutes. A friend of the family scooped up the kids. I took a few deep breaths and carefully explained what had happened to her 36 year old husband. I only offered details when she or the Minister asked for them. When was all said and the questions I could answer were answered, she asked where the "Teddy" was.

I went back to our property storage area and got the clothing out. I pulled the porn mags out of the bag and tossed them in the trash. I took the clothing and wig up to the front arrangement office. I honestly thought she was going to puke all over my hand carved polished walnut desk. She choked out a "Thank you for telling me what the police were afraid to say." She was a nice person and could have been told about the death in a better way.

UKChrissie

04/02/2018 07:06

http://www.kaotic.com/video/VklcHF0Y_2018501032126_t You had already Posted this clip, Love.

  • avatar
    Accompanied by the obligatory goat shagging music.
    05/25/2018 05:48
  • avatar
    Seriously,... You think maybe if he was not wearing the redshirt he would have not been hurt as bad?

    05/25/2018 05:46
  • avatar
    How the fuck can you drown in a puddle that size?
    05/25/2018 05:45
  • avatar
    Well done that man, i hope the little doggy was unharmed.
    05/25/2018 05:43
  • avatar
    He must have been shooting off his mouth to get his mouth shot off.
    05/25/2018 05:40
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