Gun Free Zone

Sounds movie creepy, but it happened. The worst part is that I am not amazed that it happened at all. The d intellectually enlightened and advanced legislatures and judiciary of Spain are conformed by a bunch of left wing morons that are causing death by the bushel in the country of my forefathers. There is an epidemic of spousal deaths (men against women) that would shock the crap out of NOW and other yak-hairy Female groups in the USA and there is no end in sight.

Mind you, the Spanish Libs emphatically denounce the killings, but they clash with their own politics when it is time to inflict the proper penalty to the murderers. The average sentence served for a wife killer is around 2-3 years in Spain. Yep, and no hard time either. You see, for the Spanish Law, all Domestic Murders are pretty much a crime of passion and since the cause of that passion (the wife/girlfriend/significant other) is no longer present, the probability that the man would kill again is nil so the State shouldn’t have to impose a draconian punishment.

The judicial system is so perverted and idiotic that defies all logic. About 5 years ago there was a case where a wife asked to divorce his highly abusive husband. She had very well documented trips to the local hospital to repair the damage cause by her husband, plus plenty of police records documenting the actions of such animal and even the children of the couple, all adults testified in court about the abusive nature of the father. The judge not only denied the divorce but ordered the wife to live with the husband as of “to give him one more chance” or face of contempt of court. As soon as the couple returned home and were alone, the husband proceeded to beat the daylights out of the wife, take her out to the front of the lawn, tie her to a chair, pour gasoline all over and set her on fire. She died and the husband was arrested for murder. After the trial and during the sentencing phase, the judge applied the “crime of passion” BS and sentenced the guy to two years over the heated objections and pleas of the sons and daughters. And yes, the animal is out there living his life at the fullest with the blessings of the Spanish Crown.

And forget about self defense. In another case, a mother and her baby sought refuge from an abusive husband by fleeing to her grandfather’s house two towns away. Enraged husband tracked her down and at the wee hours of the night started bashing at the front door armed with a butcher knife. Grandpa got himself his old hunting double barrel shotgun and warned the husband to leave because he had called the cops and he was armed. Enraged hubby kept kicking the door and just before he was able to break in, Grandpa let him have it with both barrels and killed him.  Would you care to guess where grandpa ended up? Yep, serving time in prison for murder. The judge in the case eventually moved to another district in another province because the town had made no bones about exacting true justice on his ass. Grandpa was eventually placed on parole due to his advanced age, but the stupidity is still maddening.

And some judges think we should look at European laws to apply here?

South Florida Hand Wringers are not happy. The expansion of the Castle Doctrine that allows citizens of this state to defend themselves outside their home appears to be an affront to their sensitivities and, in the case of lawyers I am sure it is hurting them in the pocket. Earlier this week, Patrick Lavoie got enraged when he felt that one Cleveland Murdock was tailgating him and his lady friend. At a stop, Mr. Lavoie got out of his vehicle and charged Mr. Murdock reaching inside his vehicle. Mr. Murdock used his legally carried firearm and defended himself causing the early demise of Mr. Lavoie. Broward Sheriff’s Office arrived at the scene to investigate, detained Mr. Murdock for several hours, interrogated him, interviewed plenty witnesses that gave the same account and eventually said it was a case of self defense when the investigation and witnesses’ accounts matched Mr. Murdock’s statement. They passed the info to the district attorney’s office who in turn might take it to a grand jury which tells me they are pretty sure they do not have a case if they are not willing to do the dirty deed themselves.

Of course, the Sun Sentinel (Broward County’s bird poop catcher) is not happy one bit.

Prosecutors everywhere have rallied against the “Stand Your Ground” law, saying it might be misinterpreted by citizens who think they have the right to use deadly force, and that it could be manipulated by those with itchy trigger fingers.

That such thing has not happened yet in the years since the expansion of the Castle Doctrine does not seem to face them. But it gets better:

William Cervone, president of Florida’s Prosecuting Attorneys Association, said the law often leaves people settling cases on the streets instead of in a courtroom. Also, he said, it provides a shooter the opportunity to make up a story without the victim’s side of what happened.

This is a gorgeous double whammy. Not only Mr. Cervone is saying that Homicide investigators are too stupid to figure out if the statement of a suspect does not match the events, but somehow the law does not allow him to contact the dead victim and have him tell his version of the events. I did not know that the phone company have such service available. Maybe Mr. Cervone uses some sort of medium to speak with those in the after life. Then again, if we use translators in court cases for those who do not speak English, I imagine Mr. Cervone may find acceptable to use a gypsy tarot reader to speak for the victim. There is money to be made with this concept, gimme me a bandanna and a big golden ring and I am there.

Bouncing off Everyday, No Days Off post about Bob Barker’s passing out at a gun range and into the original story at TMZ, I made the mistake of reading the comments. One was particularly bizarre and this is Hollywood people, mind you.

I know dumb people blame guns for lots of things, but I have to admit this is the first time I have seen that guns induce labor. And WTF was this lady doing at a gun range so close to delivery anyway?

Time to get the Excedrin for Migraines… again.

I admit it, I become a grouchy SOB when the phone rings and I do not recognize the number displayed in the caller ID. Friends and Family are OK (those who are actually have my phone number) but I consider any other call as an intrusion to my privacy and my peace. I do become a full fledged bastard when the caller ID displays an 800 and related numbers with special rabid performance for telemarketers and collection agencies fishing for information.

A while ago I get a call from what I later found out to be a collection agency. The young idiot on the phone had an attitude that I equate with New Yorkers or Jets Fans (The agency turned out to be from Buffalo) and the conversation went something like this:

<RING>

Me (using my Mangalore voice): Hello?
Collection Agency Idjit (and with an attitude): Good Afternoon. I need to speak with Mrs. Me
Me (regular voice with hispanic accent): You have to speak with Mrs. Me regarding exactly what?
CAI (still with the ‘tude): I am with SumCapitalAgency and I have to talk to Mrs. Me about some financial information.

(Now, the blessed Domestic Six does not use her married name for any financial stuff so I know this guy is fishy. I go for the kill)

Me (switching to Tennessee Accent): And may I ask who the hell are you to order me to to let you talk to my wife?
CAI: Sir as I said….
Me: I asked you young fella. Who the hell are you to order me anything about my wife? I know damn well you ain’t no kin, so I would love an explanation just about now.
CAI (losing his cool): Sir, I have to talk about her …..
Me (switching to Drum Eatenton accent): Listen here young whippersnapper. I don’t take kindly to your attitude and unless you are paying the bills around here, you have a flea’s chance in Saturn to talk to the Missus. Now Bubba, be a good boy and get me a supervisor.
CAI (totally lost it and raising his voice): Sir all I wanted…
Me: You deaf or something boy? Git me a supervisor.
CAI (screaming now): Sir…
Me: I said git me a supervisor. You don’t hear good, do you Bubba? (Don’t ask me why some northerners don’t like being called Bubba for some reason)
CAI (screaming): Sir….
Me: Git me a supervisor.
CAI (screaming): Sir….
Me: Git me a supervisor.
CAI (screaming): Sir….
Me: Git me a supervisor.
CAI (foaming at the moth by the gurgling sounds): Fine!!!! Transferring you!

So I get put on silent hold, yep! Not even Muzak’s version of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I wait some 45 seconds and I get connected to the  Manager On Duty of SumCapitalAgency.

Manager: Good Afternoon Mr. Me, How can I help you?
Me (using a generic Southern Accent I picked up in a movie): Well sir, I am mighty upset about the young feller that called. It seems that he thought he had some sort of ownership rights on my wife ’cause he was ornery and demanding, I say again, demanding to talk to her.  I don’t know where you folks are from, but in these parts down here them are fighting words.
Manager: I am sorry Mr. Me. I was unaware of what happened.
Me: You mean to tell me your boy transferred me to you and didn’t tell you what he did? I think he threw you a sandbag there sir. Quite unfortunate choice of employees your company seem to have.
Manager: Er…ahem. I am sorry for his behavior. We were calling to confirm the address of one Mrs. Urusla Me born in 1907 with an address in Drunken Flamingos Road, Miami Hills.
Me: I am sorry to say you have not only the wrong person but you ain’t even close to the county.
Manager: I do truly apologize sir. We did not mean to upset you.
Me:(back to regular voice with hispanic accent): Well sir, I am disappointed at the way that young man addressed me on the phone. And speaking of phone, Do you know this number is registered with the DoNotCall list and you are right now in violation of Federal Law? Since I am not the person you intended to reach, I must presume you are fishing for numbers out of the phone book and that is a no-no.
Manager (Confused and apologetic): Mr. Me, I see your number is (555) 555-5555 and i guarantee you I’ll have it removed from our list.
Me: I appreciate that sir and (switching back to Tennessee accent) you have a wonderful afternoon, You hear?

<click>

I reckon they won’t be calling any time soon 😉

Q: You believe that guns prevent rape. But what if the rapist has a gun, too?

A: Then you better be the first to shoot.

Paxton Quigley responding to Abigail Pesta in a Marie Claire on line article.

Hat Tip to Say Uncle