I just got swarmed at a Dollar General by Georgia cops faking being fake gay men

A humorous anecdote to the series of articles on the catastrophic flood damage in the Appalachians.

by Richard L. Thornton, Architect & City Planner

Today’s hilarious experience at the neighborhood Dollar General is proof that annual mental health exams should be mandatory for all district attorneys, law enforcement personnel and prison guards.

After a late lunch, I drove around the corner to get some paper towels and bacon at my friendly, neighborhood Dollar General. The folks working there are quite normal, but as I drove into the parking lot, I noticed a swarm of miscellaneous vehicles following me in. As usual, I couldn’t tell if they were Mafiosi, Georgia cops or FBI agents, hired by the Messiah Donald. They were dressed oddly . . . like the gay rock band . . . The Village People.

Some members of the law enforcement version of the Village People followed me in, carefully stationing themselves behind and beside me, so they could pounce on me when I committed some heinous sexual perversion, typical of Native Americans. They soon looked puzzled. I was obvious twice the man they were. Other agents arrived late, but in better costumes. Some of the fake straight cops raced back to their cars.

As I walked back to my Ford Explorer, the gay cops faking being fake gays, honked their car horns and whistled at me. I have never been around gay men very much and didn’t realize that they honked at men like Georgia rednecks honk at hot country gals.

I was confused. For the past six months the Republican District Attorneys here have told people that I was penniless shoplifter and burglar. What changed their lie to me being gay again? Did by chance some lowly DA investigator check my bank account, lack of debts and personal net worth?

An explanation via my “I Spy” shoe phone

I contacted the beautiful criminal psychologist, who helps me understand the insane people, who currently control northern Georgia. Geez, if she was only single! It is no accident that our two reps in Congress are Marjorie Taylor Green and a gun dealer from Chicago, who has never lived in our Congressional district. One needs a PhD in Criminology to help navigate the pitfalls of being a honest man among thieves. It’s a jungle out thar folks!

In complete frustration, I asked Silvia why these stupid Georgia cops are so obsessed with trying to prove that I am gay? “They know I am not. Beginning in September 2000, they harassed women I dated for almost a decade . . . not knowing that most of them until late 2006, were Susan in disguise. They even taped Susan and I in my bedroom and posted the videos on a pay-for-view porno site! Remember you told me that the videos were the reason that Susan suddenly ghosted me.”

Continuing to vent my anger . . . “These younger men around here act like 12 year-olds . . . constantly shooting guns and playing dirty tricks on honest cops and honest citizens.”

Silvia laughed and responded, “First of all, Richard, most white male law enforcement officers and prison guards in this region are members of a clandestine, neo-Nazi organization that they call “The Brotherhood.” Our current investigation has revealed that their initiation rites involve homosexual acts AND intercourse with an underage female. They are photographed during the rites and so live in terror of being exposed. That is why so many of them eventually go completely insane or commit suicide.”

She continued, “As for the childish behavior. Several years ago, scientists were shocked to discover how rapidly white American males are losing their ability to reproduce. A typical 21-year-old white American male today carries 40% of the male hormones in their bodies of a 21-year-old male in 1970. They ARE 12 year-old boys inside 25 year-old bodies.”

I felt better after the free consultation from Silvia. Geez! I turned 21 in August 1970 and that was one heckuva month physical nurturing-wise. I celebrated my 21st birthday with Alicia Moreno in Mexico City. Then, I was in Oaxaca with Yvette de Veaux . . . the three Quebecois teachers in Yucatan . . . the Zapatista guerilla/history coed at the little, Maya fishing village of Cancun, Quintano Roo . . . then explored Campeche with with Ana Rojas then returned to Mexico City and Alicia.

At least knowing why people do crazy things helps one adjust to a bizarre situation. I therefore dedicate the song below to the clowns at the Dollar General this morning.

PS – Awhile back I scored so high on the CIA aptitude test that they wanted to start me at Langley, VA the next afternoon. The Night Desk Officer stated, “Richard, we desperately need someone like you.” Unfortunately, he couldn’t get a waiver on the requirement that all new CIA employees must be under 40 years old.