I Think I’ll Start a Criminal Enterprise
Being the upright and concerned citizens that we are, when we heard about the LAPD’s e-policing website, we had to check it out for ourselves to see what the ne’er-do-wells were up do in our neck of the woods:
http://www.lapdcrimemaps.org/
Hoped we’d find a tasty burgle, a little real-life grand theft auto, who knows, maybe an old-fashioned armed robbery or two. And if the scenes of the crimes were conveniently placed, maybe we could even arrange a “Crime Spree Walking Tour” where we spend a pleasant weekend afternoon hitting all the felony hotspots that make a neighborhood a neighborhood.
But what did we find? A murder in an abandoned house, which we could break into and search for shell casings and dust for fingerprints to help the police find the true killer? Nope. A series of dots representing aggravated assaults, which we would piece together into a pattern, leading us to an unlikely suspect the Feds missed but we didn’t? Uh-uh.
Somebody’s car got broken into. That’s it. No murders, no rapes, no nothing in 2 square miles. The total pussiness of our neighborhood almost made us look for 1-bedrooms in Fallujah, but then it dawned on us: We could totally own this neighborhood. Because apparently we live around a bunch of soft vegetarian emo Smartcar drivers. And you know what? We can kick their asses.
So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna start a criminal enterprise and take this shit over. Of course, G-Train’s the Kingpin, but as of this moment we are looking for loan sharks, bookies, prostitutes, and assorted thugs and goons with flexible morals. Applications are now open.
Venice is ours.
1 Comments:
Yes, on a scale of pussitude, Venice is ranking quite high these days. If you want the real LA experience, you can always come and visit Serena or me. Hell, you can't throw a bum without hitting a drug dealer on Serena's block of downtown, and my neighborhood is so bad ass it doesn't even have a name.
Makes me long for the days at Waller Street when all I had to worry about was chasing the aging ravers out of my basement on Sunday afternoons. Those were the days...
Post a Comment
<< Home