Uncle John's Presents Book of the Dumb 2

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Uncle John's Presents Book of the Dumb 2 Page 10

by John Michael Scalzi


  Were Those Responsible Punished? Not really. Gleason, who helped create the show, was back on CBS in 1962 with a very successful variety show that ran for nine years. They don’t call him The Great One for nothing, you know.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Law Is Blind, Not Dumb

  We can’t exactly say that we’re surprised that we found so many examples of dumb people running afoul of the law. Isn’t that what the law is for? To catch the dumb and felonious at their own game? (The smart and felonious take a little more work. See your local paper’s business section for more details.) So it is with a certain amount of gratification that we provide you with this chapter, which shows you that sometimes the system works!

  Undercover Idiocy

  Ted” was a man undercover. His beat was his neighborhood in Kinston, North Carolina. His quarry—Sam, his neighbor. Oh, Sam was a bad one, all right, and Ted was ready to haul him to the county jail for his crimes. Ted waited until the moment was right and Sam wouldn’t be expecting the arrival of justice.

  Ted waited for the weekend to make his move. Sam was in his yard, washing his tires, when Ted sprang into action and confronted Sam with a big wooden stick and a semiautomatic handgun. Ted informed Sam that he was an undercover agent and that Sam was going down. Even confronted with a stick and a gun, though, Sam resisted arrest. But when justice comes calling, you can’t reverse the charges! Ted rushed Sam and cuffed him. In no time, Ted got Sam in the back of his car and drove him to the county jail, where he told the authorities that he was charging Sam with various crimes including possession of stolen property and illegal sales of alcohol and lottery tickets.

  To which the authorities replied: Hey, you’re not a cop. You can’t arrest anyone. But we can arrest you. Which is exactly what they did with Ted, charging him with kidnapping, aggravated assault, and possession of a concealed weapon (the gun, we imagine, rather than the stick).

  “It was the darnedest thing,” said Joe Grady of the Lenoir County Magistrate’s office, who was the one who realized Ted was not, in fact, a licensed dispenser of justice. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  Source: Associated Press

  Someone Who Wouldn’t Benefit From Tips For Stupid Criminals

  You have to be a pretty bad bank robber when even the judge sentencing you looks upon you as an object of pity. And that’s just how bad a robber “Marvin” from Düsseldorf, Germany, was. Don’t believe it? Let us regale you with the tale of his utterly incompetent attempt to boost a bank.

  His first error was an early arrival to the bank he was planning to rob. He got there before it opened and hung around outside. This is a fine way to look awfully suspicious (and in fact, not arriving early to a bank robbery is an actual Tip for Stupid Criminals, which you’ll find on page 294). But Marvin didn’t go in when they opened the bank. Rather he paced back and forth, Hamlet-like, in front of the bank for three hours, thereby compounding suspicions with his odd behavior.

  Finally, Marvin committed himself to a course of action. Bank robbery, here we come! He went into the bank; to mask his identity, he pulled his hat down over his face. Sadly for Marvin, he’d cut eyeholes in the wrong place; now he couldn’t see. Apparently frustrated, he ripped the hat off his head—and in the process, gave the bank’s security cameras a fine and loving look at his felonious face: the judge at his sentencing would later comment that they were truly “first-class pictures.”

  After all this Marvin went to a cashier and threatened her so she would cough up the cash. The threat would have been more persuasive if there had been a gun in his hand; instead, Marvin had a gun-shaped cigarette lighter. The cashier, who we suspect at this point felt more pity than fear, suggested to Marvin he might want to, you know, leave. Marvin, utterly defeated, tried to do just that, but as he stepped outside, there were the police, to take him into their tender care.

  At his hearing, Judge Wolfram Schnorr gave poor Marvin a one-year suspended sentence and the following piece of advice: “You’d be better off giving up robbing banks. You are clearly untalented for the job.” Let’s hope for his own sake Marvin takes the judge’s advice.

  Source: Ananova

  You’re Not an Emergency!

  When you hear stories about 911 calls that have gone wrong, it’s usually because the person calling for assistance isn’t quite clear on the concept of 911. They’re calling because they’ve locked themselves out of their car, or they’re wanting the cops to arrest their neighbors for playing their music too loud, or maybe because they’re just, you know, lonely. But for variety’s sake, let’s tell you a story where the traditional roles are reversed: real emergency with an idiot 911 operator.

  Our story unfolds in Fort Worth, Texas, where members of the Diaz family were somewhat alarmed when intruders attempted to break down their door to gain entry into their home. If ever there’s a time to call 911, this is probably it. So one of the Diaz family dialed to get police assistance.

  Unfortunately, the 911 operator didn’t seem particularly inclined to get the police headed in the Diazs’ direction. Instead, she asked them, “OK, who were they? Because strangers don’t just come bang down your door with knives,” and, “Do you have a brother or father there who they were looking for?” Usually, the operator doesn’t try to discern a perpetrator’s motives when someone calls for help; one would hope that he or she would just send the police and let the people in the blue uniforms sort it out. But, for some dumb reason, Ms. 911 Operator didn’t this time. Instead, she kept them on the line until the Diazs’ unidentified door smackers appeared to disperse, refused to pass along information to the police, and suggested to the Diazs that if the bad folks showed up again, they should call back then.

  Well, another member of the Diaz family did call 911 back about 20 minutes later and luckily found an intelligent operator this time who passed the information on to the police. That finally prompted a police visit, followed by a police investigation, of which the preliminary results revealed—surprise!—that the 911 operator who answered the phone the first time wasn’t doing her job.

  We imagine the next phone call the Diazs will be making is to the lawyers.

  Source: WFAA.com

  A One Way Ticket to Stupidville, First Class

  Here was “Jeff’s” problem. Though he was in Massachusetts, he wanted to go to Cape Verde, the tiny island country off the coast of Senegal, Africa, where he had relatives. There was also the matter of the warrants for his arrest, which we suspect heightened his urge to get away from it all. Alas, being homeless, it was economically beyond his means—it’s not as if there are any cheap, direct flights to Cape Verde from Logan International Airport. So Jeff hit upon a plan: why pay for the cost of a plane ticket when he could just mail himself to Cape Verde?

  Sure, stuffing one’s self into a cargo crate might be uncomfortable. But Jeff could prepare himself with a stock of water and food—and a little container or two for the end products of those provisions. He’d be cramped, but he’d end up in Cape Verde. In all, a fine plan. Jeff stuffed himself in a four-by-four foot crate with his supplies (a bag of potato chips, a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and a bottle for waste) and had some friends seal him up and drop him off at a shipping company in Fall River.

  And now—you knew it was coming—the flaw in the plan. Clearly, given Jeff’s rather small supply of food and drink, he was expecting his crate to be whisked away in a day, maybe two, tops. But the intricacies of maritime shipping were working against our pal Jeff. In fact, there was a two-week wait for the boat to Cape Verde. And then it would be another two weeks for the boat to arrive in Cape Verde. So Jeff would get to Cape Verde, he’d just be dead when he arrived. And wouldn’t that be a delightful surprise for the relatives?

  Fortunately for Jeff, a few days into his crating, one of his friends came to his or her senses, realized that stuffing a human being into a shipping crate was utterly insane, and called the police, who dispatched officers and dogs to the sce
ne. The shipping company manager was incredulous (“I thought it was a joke,” he told the Providence Journal. “Someone got inside a box and tried to ship himself? Come on”). Sure enough, the dogs sniffed out the exhausted, dehydrated and only semi-coherent Jeff, who was then uncrated, arrested, and sent to the hospital.

  Next time? Fed Ex for sure.

  Source: Boston Globe, Providence Journal

  Attention, Wal-Mart Shoppers

  Shad” walked into the Naples, Florida, Wal-Mart one day in search of new clothes and some garbage bags. It wasn’t what Shad bought that caught the Wal-Mart workers’ attention; after all, Wal-Mart has a wide selection of each item. No, it was the small fact that while Shad was shopping for these items, he just happened to be covered in blood.

  Let’s do the math here: Blood-soaked Wal-Mart customer + shopping for new clothes + shopping for garbage bags = Deeply suspicious Wal-Mart employees. And rightly so. The fact Shad paid for his purchases with a bloody $100 bill probably didn’t do much to ease what suspicions these good folks had.

  So after Shad had purchased his things and drove off in a pickup, the employees called the police, who picked up Shad later in the day (after he tried evading arrest, of course). The blood? It probably had something to do with body of a sometime friend of Shad’s that the police found. Shad was charged with second-degree murder.

  The moral of the story: when you’re covered in blood, it’s probably not the best time to go shopping.

  Source: Associated Press

  She Should Have Seen It Coming

  Call us cynical, but all our faith in psychics went out the window when Miss Cleo got busted for fraud. Merely the bust itself was elegant proof of the lack of psychic ability; after all, if she was psychic, how could she not know the Feds were on her tail?

  But it does seem like some people haven’t learned to doubt the powers of psychics, which can be a good thing, especially when those people are drug dealers. One Brooklyn, New York, gang hired “Rosa,” to tell them whether certain drug deals were going to go down well. But it seems Rosa wasn’t so psychic that she could tell her bosses that their little crew was, in fact, being scoped out by the cops, who in June 2004 slapped down a massive, 133-count indictment against fifteen people, including members of the alleged drug crew. Now, honestly, if a psychic can’t see that coming, what good is she?

  Rosa was so bad at her job that, like Miss Cleo, she didn’t even see her own downfall; the cops dropped by her place with a search warrant and then found a box with four handguns. Rosa’s comment when the cops found the box: “I always sensed evil in that box.” Call us crazy here, but when you sense evil in a box, shouldn’t you drag that box out of your home? We’re just saying. Perhaps Rosa’s next trick will be to predict just how much time she’ll have in the big house.

  Source: CBS News

  Seriously Out of Uniform

  It was bad enough for “Pierre” that he was stopped by the Paris police for driving under the influence. Pierre was a Parisian policeman himself. What made it worse was that when Pierre was stopped, he was out of uniform. Waaaay out of uniform. As in, the only thing Pierre was wearing was a pair of fishnet tights.

  Although there were undoubtedly a number of plausible lies Pierre could have uttered to explain his attire (“My car’s air-conditioning was out,” or even “What sort of world do we live in where an off-duty Parisian cop can’t drive around wearing only fishnet tights?”), Pierre instead went for the career-torpedoing truth. Not only was he a cop, he was also a part-time prostitute. This explanation made sense considering Pierre was apprehended after a chase through the Bois de Boulogne, a wooded area on the Paris outskirts long rumored to be the place to go when you’re looking for transsexual hookers.

  Oddly enough, even though Pierre admitted to a little illegal moonlighting hooking for extra scratch, the police court prosecutors claimed there was not enough evidence to try him for “passive soliciting,” which as far as we can tell means he could keep his badge. But that matter of driving drunk could cost Pierre his driver’s license. Then he’d have to use public transportation to get to his second job. Wonder if he’d be willing to wear only fishnets on the bus.

  Source: Reuters

  That’s the Ticket

  Normally we’re all for our policemen and women being enthusiastic about their work, but we’d like to remind the esteemed members of the law enforcement community who happen to be reading this book that although law enforcement is many things, one thing it is not is a competitive sport. Start trying to one-up each other, and it’s going to end badly for someone, usually someone who is presumed to be innocent until proven otherwise.

  Come with us now to the Georgia town of Porterdale, where on February 16, 2004, the traffic court, normally a fairly staid and quiet place, was suddenly swamped with crushes of ticketed citizens there for their allotment of justice. Confused by the swarm of malefactors, officials checked the tickets and discovered two interesting things: First, the number of tickets issued in January was up 140 percent from the usual monthly average, and second, the majority of the tickets—150 out of 240—were written up by two of the town’s officers, who we will dub Officers “Chip” and “Dale.”

  Were officers Chip and Dale just incredibly attentive and efficient in their jobs? Perhaps. But perhaps there was also something to the fact that earlier, Judge C. David Strickland recalled hearing a conversation between the two in which they were bragging about how many tickets they’d given out. Seems there was something of a wager on the side as to who could churn out the most tickets. As it happened, both Chip and Dale tied with 75 tickets, many of which were tied to offenses Porterdale mayor Paul Oeland described as “petty in nature.” We suspect they were probably petty in intent as well.

  What did officers Chip and Dale win for their efforts? Well, first they got to see most of their citations thrown out by the same judge who overheard the two of them bragging about their ticketing prowess. Then they won an invitation to offer their resignations to Porterdale’s City Manager. Officer Dale accepted the fabulous prize and tendered her resignation. Officer Chip refused and got the lovely consolation prize of being fired instead. This was not a blindingly smart move on the part of Chip, because now that he was fired as a cop, he might find it a tad difficult to find future employment as a cop.

  Bet the two of them didn’t expect that outcome from their little wager.

  Source: Associated Press, CBS News

  What Would YOU Do For Vanilla Roast?

  We know you love a quiz, so here’s one for you. You’re visiting a good friend when you notice that her neighbor has some truly excellent vanilla roast coffee and hazelnut creamer while your friend does not. You want some coffee. You need some coffee. What do you do?

  1.Go up to your friend’s neighbor and say: “Hi, I’ve got a serious coffee jones at the moment, and I was wondering if you might be able to spare some of your righteous vanilla roast. I’ll be your friend.”

  2.Break into the guy’s apartment to steal just enough coffee to get you through your caffeine shakes. Take some creamer, too. Repeat your breaking and entering whenever you need some more.

  The first of these is the correct answer. We admit that it makes you come across as a little needy, but it’s better than coming across as felonious, which is how “Brooks” appeared when he performed this very same maneuver while visiting a friend in the small town of North Pole, Alaska (which is, we should note, not actually at the North Pole, although it is close enough for most people).

  Brooks apparently saw nothing wrong about a little breaking and entering into his friend’s neighbor’s apartment for his coffee and cream. Of course, the neighbor (let’s call him “Alan”) felt differently; no one likes home invasions, even if all that’s being taken is a hot beverage. After Brooks’s friend mentioned that she smelled coffee in her apartment and she knew she didn’t have any, Alan decided to set-up a video camera to catch his coffee thief. Sure enough, there was Brooks, breakin
g in with a butter knife for his vanilla hazelnut treat.

  Alan later told the local newspaper that if Brooks had just asked, he’d given him some coffee for free. But as it was, Brooks was arrested for burglary and tossed in the slammer. He’s probably not going to get vanilla roast with hazelnut creamer in there.

  Source: Associated Press

  Oh, Deer

  Here’s an interesting fact for all of us who don’t go out of our way to hunt down and kill woodland animals whose only crime was to be born tasty: in the state of Minnesota, you can hunt game with a gun, but it’s illegal to hunt wild game with walkie-talkies. See, Minnesota believes that letting hunters have walkie-talkies to communicate and coordinate with each other during the hunt isn’t fair to the game animals. (This brings up the interesting question of how, if walkie-talkies are unfair, then how are projectile weapons fair to animals exactly?) The point is: walkie-talkies and radios, you can’t use ’em when you’re in the mood for bangin’ away at Minnesota wildlife.

  If anyone should know about this little rule, it’s Babe Winkelman, noted outdoorsman TV host and syndicated columnist. So it was probably a bit embarrassing for Winkelman when he was cited on his Minnesota property in the fall of 2003 for “unlawfully taking game with the use of a radio.” Apparently an officer of Minnesota’s Department of Natural Resources got a tip that hunters were using walkie-talkies, and decided to monitor radio traffic. That’s when he caught Winkelman, his wife Kris, and another hunter chatting merrily away. See, that’s the problem with radio frequencies; anyone can just listen in. Stupid walkie-talkies.

 

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