CLick On the pictures to see full size versions. Long ago there was a young lady I had the hots for in a big way (Yes, I know that hots is not a word). She was pretty, incredibly bright, and had some real elegance about her. She had a love for children and basic kindness that you don’t often see in someone her age. I met her parents and could understand she came from a much more stable home than mine. I was raised by a single, welfare mom and suddenly found myself way out-classed. For whatever reasons things did not workout they way I had hoped. Sadly for me, we went on our separate ways. From time to time I’d run into this lady in various places where our job had taken us. Whenever this happened my heart would skip a beat or two. I left my hometown Chicago, and moved to Arizona where I founded my detective agency. As a private eye and soon a TV news producer too, my career took me to the highest profile criminal events in Arizona and throughout the country. There’s no question that ...
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Instead of dwelling on the bad guys criminality and the fact that the chase and apprehension were potentially lethal, they try to transform the mope into Rosa Parks.
Where are these activists when young, black males kill and maim other blacks on a daily, goddamn basis. The only time they crawl out of their sixties hangovers is to scream about alleged racism in the police department.
As a black letter-to the-editor writer said in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch following a police shooting, a while back, "If we wait for the police to catch up with blacks in the killing of other blacks, we'll be waiting a good long while".