Tuesday, February 08, 2005

White Mike Baker and Co.

Top of the morning gents,

As a disclaimer in advance, these messages are only a
delete button away. If I offend of any you murderous
bastards, be sure to let me know. I truly give a
fuck.

Eat my shorts. In my loud ass tirades against some
really serious ethno-specific problems, you can be
assured, I'll be real gentle with your pansy asses and
choose the least offensive fucking language. I pray
you shoot my ass the day I play nicey-nicey with any
of you trigger happy motherfuckers.

Speaking of motherfuckers, a real stand up one has
been added to our daily am newsletter. The chap has
wasted his whole damn life taking orders from asshole
uniformed comrades, both military and constabulary.
Rumor has it, he's this decade's version of our
beloved Columbo. Special assignments, special toys,
meaning, more Mexican Breakfasts and eavesdropping in
the back rooms observing chaps not unlike Carlos
Escobar. Pity, he could've been born bright. As
stated before, lousy soldiers historically make the
very best killers. Amen.

My nipples are getting hard again. Loud noises, dead
animals, and putrification basted carnage always gives
me a woody. Composing these offensive fucking am
updates acts a bit like an afro-deesiac, meaning tales
of cops and robbers out in remote Alaska gives this
nigger a boner.

Present company included, us sickFucks are likely more
diseased than our incarcerated clients, but not as
disgusting as our blessed Capt Wallace. That big
bastard evokes the taste of bile in my mouth with one
sentence. After 'processing' some corpses he slugged
me and said, "Makes yer tongue hard, don't it!"
Decorated hero or not, that son of a bitch is truly
nasty.

Lest we not diminish the man's commitment to saving
lives and eradicating evil, I seen him run full speed
off my back porch at house 711, up the school alley,
and tackle-combination-pummel Ray-Ray Mendenhall. Ya
see, our boy Ray-Ray was a night janitor for the
Capones. He'd kyped a coupla brand new revolvers from
AC, 1 med frame 357 and 1 lg frame 44 magnum.

White Mike Baker brought him over, we smoked and
talked shop and prices, and agreed to meet after I
fetched a sheet of non-existent acid. Mind you, in my
line of work, I try real hard to keep my list of daily
felonies to a minimum. Ya see, "if it isn't in your
notebook, it never fucking happened."

Ok, fuck you, it may have very well been a very
existent sheet of acid. I simply had to retrieve it
from a $500.00 red nosed American pit bull’s kennel
matting, without losing my fucking hand in his mouth.
I'll likely discuss more about this later, we're all
older now, and well beyond Alaska's 10-year grasp of
limitations, eat me.

What actually ensued was that I phoned the old jail
and screamed at Larry and Columbo to get armed and
deadly, enroute full throttle, hyperventilating, and
very stressed. In under a minute, those two uniformed
thugs came blasting in my front door, asking me
(yelling) the 5 WTF's: what the fuck, who the fuck,
where the fuck, and when the fuck. Then those two
ruthless killers booked up the alley behind the
Schaeffer's and executed a truly brutal armed and
stupid felony take down. God's children at work. I
vaguely remember seeing dumbass Ray-Ray flailing
about, screaming and yelling, sans 2 brand new, yet
STOLEN firearms.

There are a few felonies that scare the shit outa this
narc, like possession of 2 guns only 6 hours stolen.
If only those pistols had been slightly worn and
soiled, then my mommy might've given me permission,
and let me play with Ray-Ray's super neato toys.
Besides, it was getting late and past my bedtime.

Must have been the shortest felony theft SR in KPD
history. Real beaut.

Let's examine the numerous contributions to crime
fighting White Mike Baker has given us:

*Mike Carr-meth/coke chump Nay snagged deplaning
somewhere up river, black bag op. No body.

*Ray-Ray's stolen firearms stunt was basically a head
on a platter. Seems to happen when the author and
Columbo start chatting together. Mysterious shit
mates.

*Instructed Chip Hailstone, Rick Miller, Scott
McConnell, and the author, basic alchemy, as in
converting Sudafed into pert near lethal Ritalin.
Michigan biker speed you ass fucks. White Mike
Baker's own arrest truncated that extremely viable
business model's implementation and eventual torpedo
by yours truly.

Whereupon the aforementioned maggot fled to Michigan,
Alaska warrants intact, and available if he ever
fucking returns to God's country. Just a blue ticket,
along with the infamous Zagars crook brother CW. Both
earning a complimentary 'leave town' don't dare show
yer nigger ass 'round these parts again, kind of
courtesies bestowed on those 2 ass licking queers.


Back tracking individuals and their relationships are
the actual components to a community's criminal
history. Village Alaska exploits, be they gold
rushes, salmon rushes, or oil rushes, are all integral
to the phony lure that sucks us fool negros up and
down the Aleutian Chain, the Brooks Range, and into a
slightly sooner, permafrost grave. What I enjoy the
most about rural Alaska, pretty girls and chronic
partying. Never knew the feds and state spent so
much money on social and health programs battling
chronic partying. 90% of all premature native babies
come from girls under the age of 16, sure wonder who's
fucking all these wasted little girls...

Seems the more we battle, the higher the infant and
toddler injury figures. Is this a phenomena of
increased reporting, or a phenomena of increased
activity? The better the detection, the ever
increasing numbers.

Is the sum of all our efforts thwarted by overwhelming
economic demand stimulating our massive alcohol and
drug trade? Actually, yes. Eskimos pay more for
their alcohol and drugs than anyone else in the world.
I'll say that again inversely, the prices paid for
alcohol and drugs in bush Alaska, are higher than
anywhere else in the world. Weird, huh? In fairness,
I bet a puny bag of weed will also cost an Alaskan
dime, on the South Pole.

In the spirit of enlightened self interest, you
dumbasses ever wonder why them good ol' boys in the
Mat-Su intentionally aim their hemp and powder
products at Bethel, Kotzebue, and Barrow? Supply and
demand is a bit simplistic; waiving millions of
dollars per village, attracting dozens of maggot
infested dope smoking chemical distributors and amoral
bootleggers may paint a clearer picture.

All I ask of a bar is that it be open. None such, so
I party with psychopaths. Call me a dumbass.

Karl.

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