I don’t even know where to begin

Posted: 08/01/2014 in Screwed

I want to make certain that you’ve had your morning Irish coffee before continuing.  Either that or your Dramamine, because you’re gonna need something to settle your stomach.  Ready?  Okay, here goes.  Pay attention, there’ll be a question at the end.

Sooner or later, America, you have to ask yourself what do you want from your legal system?  When you find something that is a threat to social order, do you want to simply remove the threat so that society is no longer in danger, do you want to punish the evildoer, or do you want to change the criminal into a productive citizen?  I mention this because if rehabilitation is your goal, it ain’t workin’ so good.

Take, for example, Salvador Martinez of New Mexico.  Currently out of prison on probation for smuggling cocaine, he decided that his girlfriend’s yappy little ankle-biter of a puppy was too much trouble.  Or maybe he didn’t like her grandkids.  Or maybe there wasn’t enough food in the house.  All I know is, she found most of the puppy in a dish in the ‘fridge, butchered and marinating — he was going to cook it up and feed it to the kids.  Now before you start in with the “Dog is eaten as a dish by many cultures” argument, you might want to know that he stabbed the cute family pet in the chest with a screwdriver.  As you might guess, that broke his parole and he’s headed back to the big house with additional charges of extreme animal cruelty and child abuse.

Okay, I think we can all agree that this is one inmate that should never have been let out of prison.  But the fact is, I told you this story so that I could tell you another one.  This one takes place in the southern part of Texas.  It seems that Mr. Garcia was out for drive with a friend when a Houston cop stopped them and searched the car.  Probably looking for that 150 other ‘illegals’ you know must be hidden someplace in the car.  I mean, “Garcia” — that’s a clue, right?  Well, the cop didn’t find anything but a bottle of prescription meds the friend was carrying.  Close enough.  He arrested the both of  ’em and hauled ’em downtown.

Unfortunately there wasn’t room for Guero in the cop car.  Guero was the ancient family Chihuahua who, in spite of being blind, likes to ride in the car.  Mr. Garcia begged the officer to allow him to make a call so that another family member could come get the dog, but no dice.  You give “those people” an inch and they’ll take a meter.  The Police Officer threw the dog out of the car, said, basically, ‘He’ll be fine,” and drove off.

Anyway, the charges were eventually dropped and three days later, after an intense search, the beloved pet was found.  Beside the highway.  Where he’d been run over.  Never saw what hit him.  He was blind, you know.

Although the Garcia family received an apology from the Mayor regarding the dog (but not the false arrest), and an internal investigation has been started about the dog (but not the arrest), somehow things just aren’t the same at the Garcia hacienda.  And, of course, the cop not only isn’t in prison, he’s still in charge of deciding who might go there.

Now, here’s my question: which story makes you want to throw up more?


Be seeing you.

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