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The time I pulled over a motorcyclist and he just went sideways on me with a ranting wild verbal tirade that lasted 8 minutes. I
        got it all on video on my bodycam. It was just epic. He was complaining about police, state taxes, cops, federal taxes, law
        enforcement,  municipal  taxes,  municipal  cops,  building  permits,  code  inspectors,  sheriff’s  deputies,  health  inspectors,  the
        department of transportation, and the state legislators. Like I said, it was epic. I just wanted to tell him to put some turn signal
        lights on his bike, that’s all. Apparently my pulling him over put him over critical mass and he just lost it..for 8 solid minutes.

















        A deputy coroner, accompanied by a chaplain, is commenting to me how social media has made his job a bit more difficult; in
        the old days he usually had plenty of time to locate a deceased person’s next of kin before anybody else could find out and beat
        him to it. But in the age of Facebook, with witnesses and bystanders posting rumors and information online, he had to move a
        lot quicker. Case in point: I had just been dealing with a very distraught woman in our front lobby, who was looking for her
        missing daughter and was now seeing online that there had been a suicide in a public place and she was suspecting it was her
        daughter and she needed answers and she was freaking out and her daughter was not answering her phone and we were trying
        to placate and stall her the best we could while waiting for the coroner and chaplain to arrive and then they could explain it all
        to her that yes, that dead woman found in the college bathroom was indeed her daughter.
















        Quite animated tall lanky homeless guy in the Starbucks, telling me and a couple other officers that there is definitely a dead
        guy in the woods. One of his old alcoholic homeless friends, alone in a tent. Last saw him alive a couple weeks ago, at the
        beginning  of  a  hot  August.  So  we  go  tromping  through  the  woods.  The  odor  and  stench  of  fermented  dead  human  body
        decomposition was thick in the air and putrid from literally several hundred feet away, which is what you can call Not a Good
        Sign. The extremely large, overweight dead guy in the tent was in an advanced state of decay; most of the face was rotted and
        melted  off into  black goo,  exposing  the skull.  The  pale corpse skin was  peeling  and greenish/greyish/bluish, covered with
        maggots and flies. The body was extremely bloated, looking ready to pop. The stench was unbelievably horrible. One of the
        absolute worst dead things I’d ever seen. The new officer with me had been a career military special forces operator and combat
        vet; he was completely unfazed by the smell. His written police report documenting the scene included a skillful usage of the
        word “emulsified.”
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