K7SGJ
02-05-2014, 05:04 PM
So Bob (NA4BH) gets a Beanie Baby that says "I :heart: Minnesota" and immediately assumes I sent it to him. He feelt that it required a response, and looked for something evil to send to me. ME, a simple desert dweller that only wants to be his BFF. Does he appreciate my desire to bury the hatchet and be the brothers our families never had?. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
The other day, I get a knock on the door, and a guy in a black suit is there. He asks if I am K7SGJ, and I say of course. I didn't figure he was from the FCC since he was driving one of those little tiny smart cars without any antennas on it. it was black. I ask him what he wants, and he reaches inside his jacket. Thinking this was a hit, I quickly pulled out my military issued 1911 .45 pistol, and said hold it right there MF. I said slowly pull your hand out of your jacket, which he did, producing an official Postal Inspector badge, and accompanying Federal ID. I looked it over and it checked out.
I asked him why he was here. He put on rubber gloves (I was a little worried he was going to make me bend over) and then he opened his briefcase, and produced a brown envelope. He said that they had intercepted it enroute from a town in Alabama, and it tested positive for toxic content. He wanted to know if I knew a person of interest named Bob, and I said I knew a lot of Bobs. When asked how many from Alabama, I said only one, but he wasn't very interesting at all. He wanted to know if he would ever do anything to abuse or harm me, and I told him he was more like a brother, and that he would take a bullet for me, and that I wish he would, real soon.
As he put on his hazmat suit, he asked me to open the package so they could see what it was that tripped all the security sensors. So, I carefully opened it. When he saw what it was, he called for reinforcements, and suggested I go in to protective custody, and spend a month in isolation so as not to contaminate others.
I am now in a padded room with this fucking "gift" from Alabama. I have to admit, it is way huge but I guess that is because of all the fat asses there.
11608
I was going to take a picture of the inside, because you wouldn't believe the size of the skid mark, but I felt it might be in poor taste.
By the way, when I get out of isolation, I'm going to the Federal pen for pulling a gun on a Postal Inspector, and calling him a MF. Bastid.
I'm hoping that while I am in there, I can find a fellow inmate that can make something "special" I can send to my buddy, Bob, in Alabama.
The other day, I get a knock on the door, and a guy in a black suit is there. He asks if I am K7SGJ, and I say of course. I didn't figure he was from the FCC since he was driving one of those little tiny smart cars without any antennas on it. it was black. I ask him what he wants, and he reaches inside his jacket. Thinking this was a hit, I quickly pulled out my military issued 1911 .45 pistol, and said hold it right there MF. I said slowly pull your hand out of your jacket, which he did, producing an official Postal Inspector badge, and accompanying Federal ID. I looked it over and it checked out.
I asked him why he was here. He put on rubber gloves (I was a little worried he was going to make me bend over) and then he opened his briefcase, and produced a brown envelope. He said that they had intercepted it enroute from a town in Alabama, and it tested positive for toxic content. He wanted to know if I knew a person of interest named Bob, and I said I knew a lot of Bobs. When asked how many from Alabama, I said only one, but he wasn't very interesting at all. He wanted to know if he would ever do anything to abuse or harm me, and I told him he was more like a brother, and that he would take a bullet for me, and that I wish he would, real soon.
As he put on his hazmat suit, he asked me to open the package so they could see what it was that tripped all the security sensors. So, I carefully opened it. When he saw what it was, he called for reinforcements, and suggested I go in to protective custody, and spend a month in isolation so as not to contaminate others.
I am now in a padded room with this fucking "gift" from Alabama. I have to admit, it is way huge but I guess that is because of all the fat asses there.
11608
I was going to take a picture of the inside, because you wouldn't believe the size of the skid mark, but I felt it might be in poor taste.
By the way, when I get out of isolation, I'm going to the Federal pen for pulling a gun on a Postal Inspector, and calling him a MF. Bastid.
I'm hoping that while I am in there, I can find a fellow inmate that can make something "special" I can send to my buddy, Bob, in Alabama.