Tape #1
another story....a guy parks his car, comin’ up the stairs....a landing platform, to the front door....small little side door (this is first shooting).....suspect gets home...me and my partner we let down...we thought we had the guy in custody...next thing the guy is runnin’ down the fuckin’ stairs....now everybody is chasin’ this fuckin’ guy....out the fuckin’ door he goes....he’s down the stairs and gone....so he’s got another guy parked down the street...he’s smart enought not to run to the car...he runs across the street into a bunch of apartment complexes....my parnter and i, we get down the starirs...we hear rounds going off across the street in the complexes....so we stop and here’s this guy sittin behind the wheelof the car...we know a getaway guy when we see one. So my partner goes over there and starts makin’ an inquiry.....car starts up...accelarates knocks my partner into the ground....gun goes flyin’....he accelarates past me....i put two rounds into the side window as he goes by....pur four more roudns into the back window....you could see him dissappear into the darkness.....go over dust my partner off. We don’t have our car keys with us...we came with somebody.....we coudln’t give chase...so we just sat down on the curb...lit a cigarette...bout five mintues later we hear all these fuckin’ lights and sirens...funny thing...we’re tryin’ to figure outwhat ato do next...partner says. you know something, nobody turned on a fuckin’ light....nobody did shit, nobody opened their drapes... theneighborhood is so used to be bombarded by gunfire...so we hear all these sirens....pretty soon a black and white comes down the street, says hey, you guys involved in this thing here...we says, whaddaya got?
We got this car sittin’ in a coy pond in some guys house.....(laughs) we go down there, guy got down there, I’d hit him in the back of the neck, base of the spinal cord,...jsut enought to make him pass out, lost control of the car. One of the hosues belonged to a Japanese party....little banzai pond...the only outstanding house on the block.....right into the fuckin’ coy pond.
He was in the back of the ambulance....firefighter pulls the bullet out with a tweezers...usin’ a .38, softer rounds, lower grains....put a bandage on it...says “book him.” Of course, the Jap is runnin’ around gon’ nuts...tryin’ to get his little fish out of the pond.
GANGS
Organized? I’m not a gang expert, never professed to be....there are definitely crime syndicates. I think the way is, if you are part of a syndicate it is a violation of the law...we can arrest you....
60% of violent crimes today are being committed by people under 18....these are all gang related....killing, robbing, stealing...it’s a power move in the gang...the more crime you commit the more valuable you are as you go up in the structure. All these gangs are being controlled out of State Prisons.....ultimatey becomes a power figure in the prison system....organized drug sales....Look at organized crime.Most of that is run out of state penal institutions. Lot of phone access. These guys have an information access that the FBI would love to have. Visitors are coming and running messages out of the joint. Criminals going into different institutions.....certaily the Mexican gangs runs the streets of Los Angeles. My experience has been more of the Mexican Mafia. Typically Italian based mafia are entered into agreements with black and mexican gangs...started happening bout five years ago. Relationships, between gangs or syndicates that operated very autonamousl.
I have the answer to that MADAME ALEX.....and yours is not the right answer.....has more/section I don’t know a record company yet that was started on anything other than organized crime money....dope money....
NEW TAPE
The state of law enforcement in most communitites....comin’ out of major riot...your case is built on the LAPD...your case is shit, pal...that was the whole case.....Mark Fuhrman is the only guy who’s life came out as shit...destroyed....it is the crime of the century and the thing that most people are left with is mark fuhrman pleading no contests to using a fuckin’ word....where’s the sense of logic in this? Where is it? Cops havea to be psychologists, priests, attorneys, judges....so many things to so many people. THE COP IS THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON IN THE WORLD. This is the kind of burden p. Policeman go in with very simple goals, I believe in life...believe in ethics,morality....and I’m willin’ to stand up and take the shots for you guys...all you gotta do is get behind me. That’s all you gotta do here.
Types of crime, degree of violence...motivations are all entirely different today. Nothing works one hundred percent.....in any business....
I kinda like walking that razor’s edge anyway...that’s why I do what I do.....we are born of that mentality. We’ll risk ourselves, our family on a 75/25 proposition. And that ain’t a real cool deal. And right now a community and the politics of the dept...chiefs and the city council are all structured. The political machine is not there to bring unity to the city. With a cop, unless you are 99% right, we’re gonna hang you...we’ll assist any enemy who wants to put you in jail, and you’re done baby....when you finally demoralize the infrastructe of the backbone of the city...you’re heading nowhere but to hell in a handbag real quick.
We put on 20000 new policeman (city council says). It’s a lie. A total fucking lie. It’s a political reshuffling. Public says we got 2000 new cops. Actually we got 400 less. And the ones we got suck. Arrests are down 52% in LA city. The jails used to be bulging. The jails are now just fine.....They still have the brand new faciilty they haven’t put a body in it. LAPD ain’t puttin people in jail anymore! It ain’t worth it. Because....(articles)....Do not do anything! You’re gone baby! They’re gonna sue you....takeyour house. Answer your radio. Keep your eyes shut. Don’t do nothing. They’re not runnin’ to guys. We used to get in our car go 80 miles an hour, break every fuckin’ law cause they needed us...now it’s, we’ll get there when we get there.
Guys come into LA, get trained. Go to another district. LA lost 1200 policemen to cross lateral jobs. That’s why we don’t havæ anymore cofps. It’s costs $200 $300 to train a cop. We get one year of service..they leave fully trained...better working conditions. One that is supported by the community. Well, why fuckin’ not. That’s why the city of LA has these fuckin’ buffoons.....just to get fuckin’ bodies back.
Allright, now we'll tell you another story. Our boy is sleeping now, so let's just let him sleep for a bit. Don't worry, we'll come back to him after he's had his rest. This story is about a parakeet. A parakeet named Samson. Somebody had named Samson Samson, but we do not know who. Mabye it was our boy, or maybe it was somebody else. It doesn't matter, really. Samson was your typical parakeet. An ordinary green parakeet, that's what he was. Samson lived, for a time, in a cage with several other parakeets in a Kresge's five-and-dime store in a nice neighborhood in Shaker Heights, Ohio. The dimestore was full of all the things that are always in dimestores--needles and thread, clothes (cheap but clean), red checkered tablecloths, a section of candies, books, magazines, balls of yarn, bottles, picture frames.... Oh you know....all these things!
Samson was in the part of the store where the animals were kept. There were, besides himself, lots of other birds. They were a very squawky bunch, indeed! Also the store contained many aquariums filled with fish and snails and things. Little bubbles went bloop, bloop bloop and they played “How Much Is That Doggie In The Window” on a small radio behind the counter. Everybody loved this part of the store.
All of the ladies who worked in the dimestore were old and very nice. One lady, Mrs. Curry, would come to feed Samson every day. She'd give him clean water and fresh bird seed and every so often, for a treat, she'd stuck in a piece of fresh green celery, which Samson liked to chew on.
"There you go, birdie," Mrs. Curry would say. She kind of chirped when she said it. She was really very old, and Samson knew she probably wouldn't be around too much longer.
One day, a young woman and her son came into the dimestore. The woman was very pretty, with dark shiny hair and a very nice smile. Her boy was named Norman.
Norman was not quite so nice as his mother. He would sometimes do mean things. Mostly to his little sister, Sippie. But fortunately, Norman was not the kind of mean child that would later grow up into a terrible person or anything like that. No, he just liked to play tricks on people, which many children do, you must admit.
So Norman and his mother brought Samson home and put him in his cage on a nice wooden table in the dining room and fed him every day. On special occasions, they would let Samson out of his cage so that he could fly around and explore the house. But the problem was, Samson would always get lost, or try and hide in the curtains or behind the couch or something. So soon Norman's mother told him that Samson had to stay in his cage.
Now one day, Norman was home alone. His mother was at work at the dance studio...which was located above a delicatessen in a not so nice part of Cleveland. She had to work long hours, especially after her husband (a rather rotund man jovially refereed to by his friends as “Fat Pete”) had died of a liver ailment. On this particular day, Norman decided that he'd let Samson out of his cage. Poor old Samson needed to fly around, stretch his wings, all that stuff. Besides, Norman liked watching Samson fly. Now, while Samson was flying around, batting into the curtains and the windows and things (Samson was a bit retarded, if you must know the truth), Norman went down into the basement, where he had a secret special room that was all his own. He kept all his special things in there--his chemistry set, his inventions (stink bombs and such), his comic books, his electric trains--all his favorite things. Norman even had a lock on the door of his room and a big sign saying KEEP OUT! Well, what happened was this. You've probably already guessed it, actually. While Norman was down in his secret room, working on one of his inventions, Samson accidentally flew right into the gas burner on the kitchen stove. Norman's mother had left the left-over beef stew from last night’s dinner heating up on the stove, and Samson flew right, smack into the fire and burned up....just like that!
When poor Norman came up from his secret basement room, he found Samson lying on the kitchen floor, right near the stove. He was all brown and crispy and in fact, he didn't really even look much more like a parakeet anymore. Norman was very scared of what his mother would do to him when she got home from work. He thought of going out and buying another parakeet, but he knew that it probably wouldn't work. His mother was too smart for that, and besides, Norman had a bad way of looking guilty when he did bad things (which was fairly often). Instead, Norman buried Samson out in the back yard, and decided to take whatever punishment his mother decided that he deserved. But then another thing happened. It was kind of bad.
As Norman's mother was leaving the dance studio, she was hit by a car....a 1953 green Plymouth sedan, to be exact. She was killed instantly, they said. The driver of the car was never found.
Well, by now, you have probably already guessed that Norman is the boy who lived alone in the room that he never came out of. So really, you see, this isn't two stories at all--it's one story. A story with many parts. But in order to understand this story, you'll have to go along with the fact that it must be told in a very precise order. Otherwise, it will simply not make any sense at all.
OK, now that you understand that, let us go back to the boy sleeping upstairs in his room. You now know that his name is Norman. He is nine years old and he doesn't go to school. He doesn't do any of the things that most nine year old boys do.
things you must not say (never, never, never)
OBSOLETE BUT UNIQUE
White power links
diry stories
answers to your questions
link about a booger collection
all negroes go here promptly!!!
secret shit (underground files)
Rick Nelson is dead and so is his mouth
Poor Annette......
getting more sordid by the second, huh
all camel jockies go here!!!
