To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Scott Holstad's next piece
arrest "put your hands in the air and slowly come down the stairs." oh shit, i thought. the bitch had called the cops. they patted me down, after first asking if i had any weapons on me - i volunteered my 12" folding Cold Steel blade, hoping they miss the 16" flat blade hanging in the back of my leather jacket, handle down - easy access. glad, now, that i had dumped my Glock. almost through the patdown and i think it's beaten them, they find it. "whoa, look at this butcher knife! who were you going to kill with this, hombre?" soon i was facing felony weapons with intent charges. they suggested adding assault to the charges, but since i didn't knock her door down, they didn't. they also tried to get me for felony drug charges for my prescription meds i always carry with me cause i didn't have my prescriptions on me. they bashed my head against the car as they put me in the back seat, just like how tightly they had put my cuffs on. i wanted a cigarette. more importantly, i wanted to kill the bitch next door for calling the cops.
To the top of this page