2 Misdemeanors and 5 empty Jager bottles.

This about sums up my entire weekend. Looking back at it now, I probably should have just went to Russell's party. Judging by the pictures it looked pretty fun, but it looks like there were a bunch of random mother fuckers there. Anyways, My friend Wes and I, were about 30 minutes away from our destination, we were heading to the land of environmentally friendly hippie stoners (Santa Cruz) to party with some friends. We are on a two lane highway and are right behind the highway patrolman, he pulls over to the side and lets us pass him. We pass him and he then proceeds to do a U-turn in the opposite direction, this is an immediate sign for Wes to decide to go faster. Well about 45 seconds later, we hear the sirens, see the lights, and are pulling over to the side of the road. Now at this point I am not really panicking, I know that there is about 100 dollars worth of Jagermeister in the back, but I figure the officer is just going to give us a speeding ticket and let us go on our way. "License and registration please," he says. Wes proceeds to give him his registration but he cant seem to find his license, he then starts searching the back of the car for it. The officer decides he wants to help Wes find his license in the back of our car. All the while I am shitting my pants because there is a lot of alcohol back there and my fake ID. The Officer opens the door and starts to rummage through all our stuff, all I hear is *clank* clank.* We are fucked. He then proceeds to grill us about where and how we got it, and we both are just lying are asses off, but making sure to say "sir" at the end of each of our useless lies. "I swear to god none of us have a fake ID, sir." "I don't know how that got there, sir." He then searches through all our shit claiming to look for "Crystal Weed." Now I am not a huge pot smoker, but I have no idea what "Crystal Weed" is. Weed laced with crystal meth? Or this guy didn't know his ass from his face. I think the latter of the two. He forages through my bags with his dirty paws and finds my fake ID and run the numbers through the database. It turns out that the drivers lisence number is actually legit, and is someone girl named Ellis or something, and she lives in Arizona? I am now sitting in the passenger seat watching Officer Dickhead make Wes pour out all of Jager on the side of the road. He calls me out just to tell me that he should be taking me to jail and let Wes go on his way, but he is being nice. I thought to myself, "What was the point of that? Does this guy want me to thank him for handing me 2 misdemeanors and 5 empty bottles of Jager? As far as I am concerned this piggy can go fuck himself." We finally get to Santa Cruz (after a 7 and half hour drive), but I am sorry to say no amount of beer pong games will make me feel better, or drown out the sorrow of what just happened.


It is now official, I am a criminal. Just add it to my record, the first petty theft charge (which later turned into a burglary charge, police don't like me) wasn't that big of deal. Add two more misdemeanors to the mix and I am starting look more like Ted Bundy, well maybe not that severe, I haven't murdered anyone. But shit, the cops sure treat me like I have. I have had long conversations with my brother about this, and the fact is we are sleazeballs. We can't work normal jobs, we can't be fireman or policeman, we just have to do shisty things to make money. I'm thinking Frank and Jesse James, lets rob some banks or some shit. My brother on the hand is constantly referring to himself as Danny Ocean. Well shit, if he is Danny Ocean then I am Rusty Ryan (Brad Pitt, obviously I am the better looking one) and lets hit Vegas baby. Realistically, I am going to have to get a real job and pay off these tickets, and bum rides off my bro because my license is most likely going to get suspended for a year. I blame him fully, it is his Karma because I had to drive his ass around for a year, and now its his turn to chauffeur me around.