Get a Job! - California may do away with welfare
To Protect and Serve - veteran LA polivr detective charged with murder
To Protect and Serve 2 - women cops fired for "boyfriend hunting"
On this day in history: June 9, 1930 - Jake Lingle, a reporter for the Chicago Tribune, is shot dead gangland-style at the Illinois Central train station underpass, during rush hour. Dozens of people witness the murder, and the Leo Vincent Brothers are caught four months later after an intensive manhunt. Lingle was allegedly killed over a $100,000 gambling debt owed to Al Capone.
Born on this day in history: June 9, 1963 - Johnny Depp (1963-) Born in Owensboro, KY, and raised in FL, actor and director Johnny Depp left school at 17 to play in garage bands. He gained teen idol status on TV's "21 Jump Street" and today has carved a niche for himself as a serious, somewhat dark, idiosyncratic performer, consistently selecting roles that surprise critics and audiences alike.
Scripture of the Day: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. - 1 John 1:9
Video of the Day: The 2012 Pelosi GTxi SS/RT Sport Edition - submitted by Jeffrey
Imagine my surprise when I encountered this sign on the local Burger King while driving to my office this morning! Click to enlarge.
[While I slept]
I received a telephone call from an old girlfriend I had not seen in approximately ten years. She said she was a patient in a mental hospital near here and was having an uncontrollable craving for a cheeseburger. She begged me to purchase her a cheeseburger at Burger King and bring it to her. I did so. When she had finished eating the cheeseburger, she thanked me. I wished her well and walked toward the nearest exit. I was passing through the exit door, when I was grasped by two interns and told that I should not foolishly attempt to escape. I told them there was a mistake and that I was a visitor—not a patient. The interns looked at each other, smiled, and one of them remarked, "That's what about half the people in here say." They both laughed. I assured them I was merely visiting someone, but they refused to listen. They took me to a room that had only a small windowhigh, hear the ceiling. It was far too small to serve as an escape route.
One of the interns gave me a shot. I saw the label on the bottle: Thorazine. They left me alone in the room and locked the door as they left.
As I sat and contemplated what I could do to be freed from my confinement, I sat upon the bed, placed my elbows on my knees, rested my head in my hands, and was considering various methodologies of escape when I felt the weight of my iPhone in my shirt pocket. Obviously, hey had not realized I had this device! I spent nearly two hours sending emails and making telephone calls—trying to contact someone who could help get me freed. No-one answered the phone calls. I left messages when this was an option. I sent emails to everyone I thought would be able to help and tried to relax while waiting for replies.
After several hours, I had received no return phone calls nor any email replies. One of the interns entered my room and brought me a tray containing my evening meal. The food was surprisingly good.
I devised a plan to charge my iPhone without its presence being discovered. Suddenly, I awakened and realized that it was late: Darkness filled the tiny window. Without realizing what I was doing, I started a blog. I named it "Somebody Save Me!" and published it on Wordpress.
As the days passed, I added my thoughts and experiences to my blog. I entered several posts each day.
After a dozen or so days, I received a comment from someone who called himself "Bill O'Reilly." I smiled at what I considered an obvious alias and replied to the comment saying, "What a pleasure it is to have you visit my blog, Mr. O'Reilly. I am an enthusiastic viewer of your program. That is, I was prior to my confinement here." I slept.
"Bill O'Reilly" began commenting on my blog posts daily. Soon, he was commenting several times a day.
Suddenly, one day an email message arrived. The authorcalling himself "Bill O'Reilly"— said a special segment would air on his television program that evening. The segment would focus upon me and my blog. He said that the story would bring national focus on my plight and would help effectuate my release.
At 5 PM that day, I sat in the common room, positioned in front of the television. Several of the patients were there. I realized I had not seen my friend since the day I brought her a cheeseburger.
When the segment about me began, images of me flashed on the screen. Patients, interns, nurses, and doctors all gasped as they recognized me as the subject of those images.
Suddenly, a video crew burst into the room. Bright lights, microphones, and video cameras were everywhere. Megyn Kelly walked up to me and said, "Relax, David, we're here to get you out of this place!" Bill O'Reilly led a group of people through the room. They confronted doctors—demanding an explanation for my forced residency there. Megyn said she enjoyed my blog greatly and hoped I would continue with it once I was out of the asylum. I assured her I would.
I awakened, turned onto my left side, snatched my iPhone from the nightstand, and checked my email. There were no messages from Bill O'Reilly. I was not surprised there there were none, but I had to be certain.
