There is a linguistic difference between peace officers and police officers which only exists for part of this fine nation. In a lot of places badge + radio = police.
It protects you from your own ignorance. Much like a heat warning on a coffee cup.
Where you find policy you find police.
I was walking through the woods east of Wasseralfingen, West Germany, when I saw an odd, radial pattern of splinters on the forest floor. I followed to the center and found two trees. The stricken tree was cracked in half, with the top half leaning on top of a neighboring tree, which also had been cracked. I wish I’d had a camera. Pardon my crude drawing.
How many cities keep “EXPLODING VEGETATION, DO NOT CROSS” tape on hand?
Best I can tell, an exploding anything is a possible police matter.
Australian ones, possibly?
Do you feel lucky, punk?
“Police Line: Do Not Fuck”
Like that War on Drugs and the War on Terror, I expect all our halfhearted opposition will simply serve to make the matter worse.
Sounds like your mom had an unforgettable Mother Day, Mark.
Don’t mess with Mother, Nature.
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