Police Arrest Mother in Murder

She's a bad mother . . . Shut your mouth . . . I'm just talking about the suspect.

Right on.



I'm not ashamed to admit it. Right now, I'm listening to the theme from Shaft.

Update: According to The Star, the dispute was over a parking space.

Gunmen fired up to 50 rounds at a car last weekend, hitting two passengers and killing a third, allegedly because of a heated parking dispute.

Wait, it gets even more ridonkulous:

An argument broke out and the women did not budge, prompting Scott to toss a hot-sauce bottle at the Camry, shattering a window.

Scott and his friends then left but soon realized Scott had lost his cell phone, so they returned.

A woman, later identified as Hogan, ran to two men and pointed out Scott and his car. The two men approached. One reached into his pants.

“Get down! He’s going to shoot!” Scott and another man in the car yelled.

Scott pushed a woman in the back seat to the floorboard. At least 17 rounds of gunfire hit the Taurus as it sped off.

That’s right, a parking dispute, hot sauce and flurry of bullets. That sounds like a great recipe for a good time. Seriously, I can’t think of anything more ignorant. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the article reported that the men who engaged in the fight went to go have unprotected sex with a hooker afterwards and then capped off the night by sharing drug needles.

The sad part, people like this are roaming the streets waiting to start shit. That’s why I never get in fights in traffic. I simply take down license plate numbers, do a little Internet research and then find the house of the prick that cut me off.

I’ll befriend him for a few years and maybe buy his kids gifts. I might even move into his neighborhood. We’ll have cookouts and our wives will become good friends. Maybe we’ll even go on vacation together. The years will pass and we’ll enjoy life side by side taking the bitter along with the sweet. One Christmas will blend into another and as the years begin to pass quicker, maybe we’ll do something thoughtful like move into the same retirement community together. As our golden years quickly go by, sadly, our health will begin to fade. The guy will eventually be struck with illness but I’ll remain vigilant and stay at his bedside. He’ll turn my way and thank me for the loyal friendship that I’ve given to him over all these years. And then I look to him, smile and take a deep breath. Then I'll yell: “Remember when you cut me off 45 years ago? Payback is a bitch motherfucker! Taste my PAIN!” And I’ll smother him with a pillow as I laugh. When I’m done, I’ll finish the chocolate pudding he never got to eat. The nurses won’t notice as I wheel out of the room, make my way out of the building, get in my car and head on down the road.

Or I could just let it go . . . which is probably what these morons should have done.