Directly straight from the Department of Redundancy Department....at this time!

“10-4, I copy, “ Be advised”, and “At this time”. Bovine feces...they open their mouths and out falls bovine feces. I don’t know why, and I don’t know when the use of this kind of crap talk began, but it needs to end. If you talk like that, you sound like an idiot.

“10-4” means “I copy", say one or the other. Either will do just fine but not both. You don’t have to say it and then define it!

“Be advised”…How many times a day do you hear that? You’re freaking advising me! If you advise me, then I will BE advised. You don’t have to tell me to “be advised” and then advise me. Just freaking do your "advising", and quit wasting my time!

“At this time”…boy, this is my favorite. “At this time, we’ll be enroute.” WELL, NO SHIT, AT THIS TIME!! When the hell else would you be enroute? At another time?? If it were at another time, why the hell would you be telling me now? Say what you mean, mean what you say, but dammit man, be brief!

I got all spooled up about this today when, after discovering they were not needed at the emergency call they were on, I dispatched an ambulance to another emergency call. I gave them the location and nature of the call…….their response……”Uhhh 10-4, copy….uhhh, be advised we’re gonna be enroute at this time.” Gonna be enroute?? If you're currently responding, why tell me you're "gonna be"? “ENROUTE would have been sufficient.” One word...it's quick, concise, and simple. It’s easy to feel like a genius when you spend your time dispatching imbeciles.

I have your address. If you lie to me again, I'm going to come to your house and kill you.

It never fails. You're busy! The 9-1-1 fairy is giftwrapping your ass, one emergency call after another! Emergency lines are lit up like a freaking Christmas tree. When here comes Mr. Smith from 123 Elm St. You pick up and say..."9-1-1, how the hell can I exceed your expectations?" (Just kidding) To which you are greeted with..."click" They should pay me a nickel every time I have to hear this. If they did, I'd be stinking rich. So, in the midst of your whirlwind of ligitimate emergency calls, you have to stop what the hell your doing and call the idiot, Mr. Smith, back. (I don't know why. It's policy.)

ring....ring....ring....ring...(damn, pick up the phone already!) ring...ring...."Uhhh...hello?"

Good afternoon, sir. This is the 9-1-1 center. Someone dialed 9-1-1 from that residence and hung up. Is there an emergency?

"Uhhhh...I didn't dial 9-1-1!"

Sir, someone dialed 9-1-1 from there. (Yeah right, uh huh, I just make random check calls to unwary citizens 'cause I got nothing else to do.)

"Uhhh...NO....not from here!" (Don't you love how Mr. Smith precedes everything with "uhhh"? You know right away you're dealing with NASA's finest rocket scientist!)

Is there someone else there who could have done it? (I know you did it!)

"Uhhh....no, I'm the only one here."

Were you just using the phone, sir? (Don't lie to me again, asshole.)

"Yeah, but I dailed 9-4-4, not 9-1-1." (OK, Einstein, look at your phone pad. The 4 is right next to the 1 isn't it? Yeah, it is! Couldn't be your fat fingers now could it?)

And did you happen to reach the 9-4-4 number that you dialed?" (Come on...lie again.)

"uhhh...no." (Holy shit! He tells the truth!)

This happens about a hundred times a day, sir. People accidently hit the 1 instead of the 4. It's a common mistake. We just ask that you stay on the line with us and let us know everything's OK, otherwise we have to call back to make sure. (We could've concluded this conversation by now, but NOOOOO you gotta draaaaaag it out by lying to me!)

"Yeah, OK. I'm sorry about that."

No problem, sir. You have a good day. (Now I'm lying. It IS a problem! And I hope you have a TERRIBLE day! You lie when you think you're in trouble and you come clean when you find out you're not in trouble...you're like a child!)

I hate IT (the situation) when people hang up on me. I hate PEOPLE (the ones who do the hanging up) when they LIE TO ME.

Spare the rod, spoil the child.

Got a call today. A little female voice on the other end of the phone said she had arrived home to find her husband murdered. She said he had been shot, and then proceeded to tell me, in a crazed tone, how she had to clean up all the blood. She sounded quite young...indeed very young, so I asked her how old she was. Again with the crazy talk about birthdays every year and some muttled incoherrent stuff. I asked her again what her age was to which she finally replied "Thirteen." "And you have a HUSBAND?" I said. She affirmed it and kept on with the crazy muttled talk. I knew something was definitely wrong, but had no idea what. So I tranferred her to the Sheriff's Department and after a brief description to the dispatcher of the situation, allowed him to take over. His first question: "How old are you?" Her response: "Thirteen." He said exactly what I did...."And you have a HUSBAND?" Again, she said yes.

I disconnected from the call and began to build this very bizzare ambulance call. Sure to include the note to "Hold Back for Law Enforcement", I tried to explain in brief language what she had said. Before I could finish, the Sheriff's Department called back and said "We're there, the scene is not yet secure, but the deputy says there's blood everywhere!" Holy Shit! This chick was telling the truth! What was she, some wacked out Multiple Personality case?? Like Cybil!! (You know that wierd character played by Sally Field? Yeah, that's what she sounded like.) The suspense was endless. Finally the Sheriff's Department called us back and advised us to cancel. What?? Why??

Turns out the deputy arrived and upon stepping out of his cruiser, noticed puddles of red fluid in the yard leading up to the doorstep...blood. Or so he thought. Not waiting for backup, he drew his weapon, kicked open the door and found an apartment covered in the same red fluid. An adult female lying on the couch, motionless, covered in....yep....red fluid. At this time I'm sure the deputy is wondering why he didn't wait for backup. After urgently telling dispatch of the grissly murder scene he'd encountered, the woman "woke up". Also wondering what the hell was going on and what the hell is with all the blood. They began to look for the mysterious caller. Huddled upstairs was a nine year old girl who had not only covered the apartment in RED PAINT, but also the yard and her sleeping mother, then made a bogus call to 9-1-1 to report the "Murder". I don't know the ultimate outcome but I hope she got her little ass torn up, not only for the prank, but for freaking me the hell out! This definitely goes down as one of the wierdest calls I've ever gotten. Now I'm gonna have nightmares about that creepy little kid voice rattling on about murder and blood.....great.

Crack Babies

"Pregnancy Delta response, imminent delivery...24 years of age, full gestation, contractions less than 2, GRAVIDA 5, PARA 4! This little crack ho has been pregnant for her entire adult life! She "birfed dat baby" like a pro....before EMS even arrived. In 3 months she'll be knocked up again, hookin' on the corner, livin' on welfare, populatin' the 'hood and scoring gubmint cheeze by the case! Wonder if this is what FDR intended? Welfare, HELL YEAH!....gotta love it!

I'm sure some bleeding heart liberal has the idea that, indeed, more social services are needed to remedy this young lady's plight. Maybe some free occupational training, or some free planned parenthood classes....I say bullshit! What's needed is mandatory sterilization. She's not gonna quit hookin', so we gotta keep payin' for her "misfortunes"? Cuttin' and cauterizin'...that's the answer. Clip 'em and ship 'em, I say.

Their mink-like abundant proliferation is proof that Darwin was an idiot! Survival of the fittest, my fat ass! We ought to let them kill themselves off. We ought to encourage it! Screw handin' out clean needles and condoms...build a wall around 'em and hand out guns and bats!