Police~

Who here hasn’t thought, where are the police when you need them? You know, like when that creep in the blue K-car cuts you off and then proceeds to leave your slightly-above-the-speed-limit butt in the dust? What’s he doing? 150 MPH? Ok, so maybe it isn’t a K-car. I had one of those in high school. We called it the “Flintstone Mobile.” There’s no way that thing, with its missing driver’s side floorboard, could have gone much past 70mph. But, you get my drift. The only time the police are around is when it’s YOU blasting past the slow-poke, Sunday driving in the fast lane. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could just press a button and voi la, instant officer with a radar gun not focused on you.

Oooooo! What if you had a button for other things that should be policed…like the Phone Etiquette Police. My co-worker could have used that one today. Ummm, you have to picture Terri. She’s very proper. Her clothes are just so, she always has a lint brush. Her desk is uber-organized…Did I mention she very proper? So, you can imagine her mortification when she went to the ladies’ room today only to find/hear a girl on her cell phone in the next stall over. Poor Terri didn’t know if she should pee or not. And then, when she finally couldn’t wait for the girl to stop talking about the guy she met on the internet and if she should dress “Victoria Secret sexy” for her first date with internet guy, Terri found she couldn’t ummmm, perform. ROFL! She had a touch of stage fright. She finally took care of business and flushed when the girl did. But then, Terri didn’t want to put a face to phone girl as she must work in our building (How awkward would that be? LOL), so she stood in her stall waiting for phone girl to wash her hands and leave. Only phone girl wasn’t in any kind of rush. So, proper, always put together, Terri stood quietly in her stall until the coast was clear. People, it is not cool to do your business while you’re talking to someone on the phone. Or to eat, or to smoke…It’s gross. Don’t do it. Take pity on us. We don’t want to hear you peeing or munching or blowing your chemicals into our ear…

Hmmm, what about the Forward Police? I don’t know about you, but someone needs to save us from the myriad “Send this to 200 people you know in the next nanosecond or you with incur the wrath of the great and terrible email god who will smite you down and steal your first born.” emails. Back away from the forward button. It’s not worth it. You are not going to get $25.00 if you send this to everyone you know in the next 10 minutes. You’re not. Don’t do it.

I suppose this could lead to the Spam Police, of which I was one so they really exist even if you couldn’t tell by all the freakin’ spam in your inbox…this can also be connected to the forward police if you have a caring family member who likes to forward their spam to you, asking, “is this legit?” NO! It’s not!

Oh, and who hasn’t needed the Not-so-handicap-handicap-parking Police? You know what I’m talking about. That bum shoulder is not a valid excuse for having to park in the handicap zone. There are people who really need those spots! People who have trouble walking. They have a cane or a walker or wheelchair. They have to park in Timbuktu because the 150 handicap spots right in front of the store are all filled. That’s just mean. I’m pressing my button for the Not-so-handicap-handicap-parking Police.

Ahhhh, and we can’t forget the Fashion Police GFU - That would be the Fashion Police Ghetto-FLABULOUS-Unit. I think it speaks for itself. Don’t you? In case you aren’t quite sure, sequined tube-tops and barely there mini-skirts do NOT go with rolls and rolls of belly fat. It just doesn’t. Don’t do it. Please.


What kind of "Police" do you wish you had a button for? A $15.00 Amazon.com gift certificate goes to the most original and entertaining suggestion.

Sandy ;-)

It’s Blog-Off time again…

Today’s post topic is Police. And I thought Laughter was tough! Sheesh! Anyway, considering the fact that I am a very boring person who has never had a scandalous or humorous run-in with the police, I’ve come to the conclusion that I will have to be very, very creative with this week’s post. But, hey, I have until midnight tonight to come up with it, right? I’m a writer, right? I should be able to come up with something, right? Right? Gah!

Deep breath, Sandy. Let’s talk about something different for now. Whew. Ok, here’s some cool news. There are only 15 contestants left in Karin Tabke’s 1st Line contest. You guessed it! I’m still there! Wooooo Hoooo! There are only two rounds until the final 5. Did I tell you what happens when there are only 5 standing? They submit the first 10 pages of their ms, that would be the one we’ve been using for the contest, for final judging by editor, Hilary Sares of Kensington Books.

I was sorry to see Sharon did not make this cut. However, as I mentioned on my home page, I can’t feel too sorry for her. She finaled last year while I was cut in round 8. (There were only 10 rounds last year. So I think I still did pretty well. Perhaps I’ll post those lines here sometime.) Well, here is my entry with the next line. Enjoy!:

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tight and turned her face away from the wicked-looking blade. She’d seen what it could do. Knew first hand the destruction it could bring.

The death.

“Please,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I...I can’t do this.”

Cold steel grazed the skin exposed by her low bodice and she flinched. Her tormentor shifted closer in the confined carriage. “Oh, but you will. You know the consequences if you don’t, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth’s stomach pitched and rolled, but she managed to jerk her head in assent.

Don’t forget to stop by this Saturday. Anna Campbell will be here and I for one am excited to see what she’s going to share with us. I also can’t wait to read her debut novel, Claiming the Courtesan. From what I’ve been reading, it’s dark and sexy and, oooooo I love books like that!

Stay tuned for my Blog-Off post about…Police. Gha!

Sandy :-)

*March 31, 2007 at Sandra's Goings On - Guest Blogger, Anna Campbell - Claiming the Courtesan