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Boogie Nights: Cynthia Nixon Announces N.Y. Gubernatorial Campaign

by Chris Chichester on 04/06/18

Women don't care. We care about nice arms, great eyes, a big dick. I never once heard a woman say: He had such a big, full scrotum. 

You got what I want? What I want is to get laid. What I need is to get laid. I drink coffee, have sex, buy pies and enjoy battery-operated devices.  You haven't met: The Rabbit.

Just when I think it couldn't get any gayer than: Mr. Broadway has to tinkle.  Well, first there would have to be a no-fucking section. 

What I wanna know is: When did all the men get together and decide that they would only get it up for giraffes with big breasts?  We're not dating. It's a fuck thing.  

Forget the math. Just don't fuck on a first date.  You're fine. True romance cannot exist without good sex.  Personally I'm loving it. Up to the point where a guy wants me to swallow. 

My fuck buddy moved to Chicago. Now we have phone sex. 

Baptism is a very odd tradition. It's about cleansing this little baby of its sins when clearly babies come into this world with a clean slate and we're the ones who fuck them up. 

I don't know why it's morning sickness when it's all fucking day long sickness. Unless its: M-O-U-R-N as in mourning the loss of your single life. 

I am so fucked up. I am never going to be happy. It's just not going to happen for me.  If you're friends won't fuck you, who will? 

There's a shit, fuck, motherfucker, fuck, shit situation.  Oh, I'm fine but why don't we ask Charlotte's hoo-ha if it'd like a side of fries? What are you going to do over there without your job? Eat croissants? 

I love you, I love you Steve. I'm sorry. I never should have said that. It's just that I love you and I fucked everything up and now it's too late. I'm sorry I'm doing this. I'm sorry. Please don't look at me. 

You know, if the whole cum situation were reversed do you think men would get any where near the stuff?  

Now there's certain camp that believe whoever holds the dick, holds the power.  The question is: If he goes up your butt will he respect you more or respect your less? That's the issue.  

I used to masturbate to a busboy who was rude to me once. What do you think that means? All right. The cheese stands alone.

Are you all right? I can't believe he took your shoes. Just don't give him head again. 

Damn it! I fucked up Debbie's B!

All we talk about any more is big or balls or small dicks.  How does it happen that four smart women have nothing to talk about but boyfriends? It's like seventh grade with bank accounts. 

Oral sex is like God's gift to women. You can get off without worrying about getting pregnant.  But if you don't go down on him, how can you expect him to go down on you?

The women I respect the most are those I choke, slap the ass and spit in the mouth. 

I can't say: I love you. I can't. It's not in my DNA. Don't let him pressure you into it.  It's just this guy's cheap ploy to watch you be a lesbian for a night. 

It's times like this I wish women could go to male prostitutes.  You farted, you're human. 

You blew me off for a politically incorrect piece of meat? My father came over every night at seven on the dot and I have no clue about men, either. 

I can't believe this. We spend our lives hiding the fat in our ass and you're putting it right on your face?  

So what? They get a medal for correctly identifying a feeling? I feel pissed off. 

I only give head to get ahead.  She was a lawyer. He was a sandwich. 

I can't believe that a guy would think I was sexy.  You see this is why I don't date. The men out there are freaks. 

What is this thing that guys have these days about wanting to shave your pubic hair?  It's obvious they want a little girl. 

I know you're probably busy having mind-blowing sex. But I feel you need to know that your good friend Miranda Hobbes has just taken a piece of cake out of the garbage and eaten it. You'll probably need this information when you check me into The Betty Crocker Clinic. 

Sex is the thing I try to get them to see me as after I win them over with my personality.  To me, the mark of a fine penis is width. 

Why didn't I use a condom?  He has one ball, and I have one lazy ovary. In what twisted world does that create a baby? It's like the Special Olympics of Conception.

I can't have sex with a sandwich. Can I? Jesus Christ: The women's movement? I haven't had coffee yet.  Men are shit. 

No, I can't have the baby. I could barely find the time to schedule this abortion.

What's the big mystery? It's my clitoris. It's not The Sphinx.  Is it just me or is Valentine's Day on steroids this year?

The only two choices for women: witch and sexy kitten. You two are crazy to get married. Marriage ruins everything. 

Soul mates only exist in the Hallmark Aisle of Duane Read Drugs. What? My marriage is going through a rough spot. I don't have time to wax.  

I was once broken up with by a guy's doorman. I'm sorry, Ms. Hobbes, Jonathan won't be coming down. Ever. 

I swear to God. I love you. But I will have to kill you. I always thought when the right guy came along all my bullshit would calm down and go away.

If they're not married, they're gay. Or burned for a divorce. Or aliens from the planet: Don't Date Me. Guys are such liars.  

Christ! When did being single translate into being gay?

I have been out with some of those guys. The short, fat, poor ones.  It makes absolutely no difference. They are just as self-centered and unappreciative as the good-looking ones.

I just realized maybe its maturity or the wisdom that comes with age. But the witch in Hansel and Gretel, she's very misunderstood.  I mean, the woman builds her dream house and these brats come along and start eating it.

Don't let anyone get all cheerleader-y on me.  Look we're both afraid we're going to kill the baby.  That's a given. 

I do love you. But I've never lived with anybody before.  And I'm stubborn and I like the remote and I can't cook.  I don't do laundry sometimes for, like, two weeks and my sponges smell.  You're going to see all that and I'm scared. 

I'm on valium. Eveything is o.k.  Maybe I should be honest and tell him now how I really feel.  Which is: What if somebody better comes along?

Last night Steve and I held hands for an hour and a half watching the fire. He was looking into my eyes. I was looking for the remote.

I'm never going to be a girly-girl. I never will. 

She's like those guys you have the great second date with, and then never hear from them again.  I pretend they died. 

I'm dating skid marks. When your boyfriend is so comfortable that he cannot be bothered to wipe his ass, there's a problem. 

I'm so bloated and gassy.  I feel like a flotation device.  

Charlotte has pudding in her Prada.  And I don't have time to tell you what's wrong with corduroy.  If I hadn't accidentally gotten pregnant by Steve I never would have had Brady and no time to eat.  So I never would have fit into my skinny jeans. 

No, I told you. No white dress.  No ivory. Nothing that says virginal.  I have a child. The jig is up. 

Do you have a completely unremarkable friend? Or maybe a house plant I could go to dinner with on Saturday night?

He doesn't even know me. At least he could get to know me before he rejects me. 

I'm a 34-year-old woman with braces and I'm on a liquid diet.  Pain doesn't begin to cover it. 

I'm going to find my Inner Goddess if it kills me.  They look down on napping at work. 

We loved, thank you. You enriched my life. Now go prosper. But I'm more: We didn't work out. You need not to exist. 

In a court room reasonable doubt can get you off for murder. In an engagement it makes you feel like a bad person.

Guys are such liars. Do you have to be a super model to get a date in New York? It's tits on toast, baby. But you make it work.

I'm sorry, Steve. I'm an asshole. That's sweet and gross at the same time.

You know what used to make me feel better? Cookies. 

Oh! I forgot to tell you! I'm a fire hydrant! What are you? Fucking crazy.

Freedom Lies In Being Bold -- Robert Frost

On The Cacophonous Pain Of Marketplace Mall In Rochester, N.Y.

by Chris Chichester on 03/23/18

Mike Wilmot
General Manager

Clare Canavan
Director of Marketing and Public Relations

Lieutenant Tim Matuszak
Security and Facilities Manager

Kara Selke
Customer Service Manager

Yesterday I was a customer in Marketplace Mall from 3:00 p.m. to 7:15 p.m.  It is the first time I visited since 2015.  I walked to the center of the Mall upon arriving.  This is the "play" area. It included 30+ preschool children and at least 15  infants. 

The screaming from these 40+ children and infants was ear-drum splitting.  I have never heard screaming of such nature and duration in a public place.  Even when I was 100+ yards away from the center of this disgraceful reality I kept walking as rapidly as possible to extricate myself from its unrelenting pandemonium. With no such good fortune.  Because in your Nineteen Eighty-Four it is impossible to shop and walk and relax without the piercing and pathetic presence of children and infants.

I am unable to reach a conclusion for how a screaming infant enhances the experience of being in your enterprise.   I concluded Strong Memorial Hospital opened an Obstetrics & Gynecology office at Marketplace Mall.   In order for your customers to receive the proper neonatal care.  No such office is in your mall.  Or perhaps a screaming infant belongs in your enterprise for a commercial audition for Happy Baby Organic Yogis Freeze-Dried Yogurt & Fruit Snacks. I did not see a camera crew. Or perhaps a mother asked her screaming infant if he wants to re-live his delivery at Strong Memorial Hospital. 

I am unable to reach a conclusion for how a screaming child not yet old enough for the first grade enhances the experience of being in your enterprise.  One father picked up his child in front of me, placed his legs around his neck -- and began to run.  The child screamed in delight -- for approximately 30 seconds. When he passed the Marble Slab Creamery I was surprised the Double Dark Chocolate did not eject from the container. Another father was changing his infant's diaper in your food service area -- on a table. I witnessed a mother spank her child.   

The crying from these children and infants was a spectacle.  It's not exactly Fun City for an infant or a child to be in your Mall because there is nothing for a child or an infant to do in your Mall. I'm not aware of a 12-month old or a five-year-old earning a salary that empowers a purchase.  When a 12-month-old or five-year-old is approved for a Visa I may change my thinking. 

I bought a pair of running shoes at Foot Locker. I asked the employee: Is this screaming from infants and children a constant for you? Is it every day all the time?  The individual shook his head and said: Yes.  The individual told me it is unbearable when multiple screaming infants and multiple screaming children accompany parents to the store. 

I am here to provide you with advice.  You must prevent the assemblage of these infants and pre-school children at the center of your Mall.  Your Mall is not supposed to be a circus.  You must hire a security guard to prevent a parent or guardian from bringing an infant into the Mall. How is an infant defined? A human being incapable of walking unassisted. When these pathetic parents and guardians object the security guard must inform each to -- Are you ready? -- hire a babysitter or ask a relative or friend to watch the infant.  That is how it once worked in the United States of America. 

I know what you plan to do to address this appalling situation: Nothing.  The unbearable environment in your enterprise is irrelevant because the money is paramount.  The money is your idol.  The maximum number of individuals in Marketplace Mall equals the maximum revenue.  But not from my bank account. I wouldn't buy a Snickers in any of your stores after this assault on my senses and my ears by your dysfunctional customers. I'm done. 

It is now 24 hours since I returned home.  I still have a ringing in my ears like I just returned from watching The Who at 126 decibels in London on May 31, 1976.  Perhaps you can send me a bottle of Tylenol.  I bought two Tylenol from Good News Stand when I was in your Mall.  To treat the first signs of the ringing in my ear. I'm delighted to have contributed to the success of your store owners.

Chris Chichester
26 Sanders Farm Drive
Penfield, N.Y. 14526

Freedom Lies In Being Bold -- Robert Frost

ALL THINGS POSSIBLE: Set Backs And Success In Politics And Life

by Chris Chichester on 03/19/18

Lieutenant Governor Kathy Hochul: Governor Cuomo my name is Kathy Hochul.  May I speak with you?

Governor Andrew Cuomo: You're one of Jack Crawford's aren't you?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I am. Yes.

Gov. Cuomo: May I see your credentials? 

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Certainly.

Gov. Cuomo: 
Closer, please. Closer. That expires in one week. You're not real F.B.I. Are you?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I'm still in training at the academy. 

Gov. Cuomo:  Jack Crawford sent a trainee to me?

Lt. Gov. Hochul:  Yes, I'm a student. I'm here to learn from you. Maybe you can decide for yourself whether or not I'm qualified enough to do that. 

Gov. Cuomo:  That is rather slippery of you Lieutenant Governor Hochul. Sit please. Now then. Tell me. What did de Blasio say to you? Multiple de Blasio in the next cell.  He hissed at you. What did he say?

Lt. Gov. Hochul:
  He said: "I can smell your cunt."

Gov. Cuomo: 
I see. I myself cannot.  You use Evyan Skin Cream. And sometimes you wear L'Air du Temps. But not today.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Did you do all these drawings, governor?

Gov. Cuomo: That is the Duomo scene from the Belvedere. Do you know Florence?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: All that detail just from memory, governor?

Gov. Cuomo: Memory, Lieutenant Governor Hochul, is what I have instead of a view.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Well, perhaps you'd care to lend us your view on this questionnaire, governor.

Gov. Cuomo: Oh, no, no, no, no. You were doing fine. You had been courteous and receptive to courtesy. You had established trust with the embarrassing truth about de Blasio. And now this ham-handed segue into your questionnaire. It won't do. 

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I'm only asking you to look at this, governor. Either you will or you won't.

Gov. Cuomo: Yeah, Jack Crawford must be very busy indeed if he's recruiting help from the student body.  Busy hunting that new one: Eliot Spitzer.  What a naughty boy he is. Do you know why he's called The Fucking Steamroller?  Please tell me. The newspapers won't say. 

Lt. Gov. Hochul: It started as a bad joke in New York City Homicide. They said: This one likes to skin his humps. 

Gov. Cuomo: Why do you think he removes their skins, Lieutenant Governor Hochul? Thrill me with our acumen. 

Lt. Gov. Hochul:
 It excites him. Most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from their victims.

Gov. Cuomo: I didn't.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: No, no. You ate yours.

Gov. Cuomo:
 You send that through now? Now, Lieutenant Governor Hochul you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: No, I thought that your knowledge . . .

Gov. Cuomo: You're so ambitious. Aren't you? Do you know what you look like to me with your good bag and your cheap shoes?  You look like a rube. A well-scrubbed hustling rube with a little taste. Good nutrition's given you some length of bone. But you're not more than one generation from poor white trash. Are you, Lieutenant Governor Hochul?  And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed. Pure western New York.  What is your father dear? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? How quickly the boys found you.  All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out. Getting any where. Getting all the way to the New York State Capitol.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: You see a lot, governor. But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself?  Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? Or maybe you're afraid to. 

Gov. Cuomo: A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. You fly back to school now, little Hochul.  Fly, fly, fly. Fly, fly. fly.

Lt. Gov. Hochul:  I'm offering you a psychological profile of Carl Heastie based on the case evidence. I'll help you catch him. 

Gov. Cuomo: Advancement. Listen carefully. Look deep within yourself, Kathy Hochul. Go seek out Elizabeth McCaughey, an old patient of mine. What is your worst memory of childhood?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: The death of my father.

Gov. Cuomo: Tell me about it. And don't lie. Or I'll know.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: He was a town marshal. One night he surprised two burglars coming out the back of a drug store.  They shot him.

Gov. Cuomo: 
Was he killed outright?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: No. He was very strong. He lasted more than a month. My mother died when I was very young. My father had become my whole world to me, and when he left, I had nothing. I was ten years old.

Gov. Cuomo: You're very frank Kathy. I think it would be quite something to know you in private life. 

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Quid pro quo, governor.

Gov. Cuomo: After your father's murder you were orphaned. What happened next? I don't imagine the answer is on those second-rate shoes, Kathy.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I lived with my mother's cousin and her husband in Fredonia. They had a ranch.

Gov. Cuomo: Was it a cattle ranch? Sheep and horses? How long did you live there?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Two months.   I ran away.

Gov. Cuomo: Why, Kathy? Did the rancher make you perform fellatio? Did he sodomize you?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: No, he was a very decent man.

Gov. Cuomo: Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Kathy?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Governor, we don't have any more time for this now.

Gov. Cuomo: After your father's murder, you were orphaned.  You went to live with cousins on a sheep and horse ranch. And?

Lt. Gov. Hochul:  And one morning I just ran away.

Gov. Cuomo: Not 'just' Kathy. What set you off? You started at what time? Early. Still dark.  Then something woke you. Didn't it. Was it a dream? What was it?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I heard a strange noise.

Gov. Cuomo: What was it?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: It was screaming. Some kind of screaming. Like a child's voice. I went downstairs. I krept up into the barn.  I was so scared to look inside. But I had to. 

Gov. Cuomo: What did you see, Kathy? What did you see?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Lambs. They were screaming.

Gov. Cuomo:  They were slaughtering the spring lambs.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: And they were screaming.

Gov. Cuomo: And you ran away.

Lt. Gov. Hochul: No. I first tried to free them.  I opened the gate to their pen. But they wouldn't run. They just stood there. Confused.  They wouldn't run. 

Gov. Cuomo: But you could.  And you did. Didn't you?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Yes. I took one lamb and I ran away as fast as I could.

Gov. Cuomo: Where were you going Kathy?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: I don't know. I didn't have any food. Any water. And it was very cold. I thought if I could save just one.  But he was so heavy.  I didn't get more than a few miles when the Sheriff's car picked me up.  The rancher was so angry. He sent me to live at an orphanage in Binghamton. I never saw the ranch again.

Gov. Cuomo: 
 What became of your lamb, Kathy?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: He killed him.

Gov. Cuomo: You still wake up sometimes. Don't you? Wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs?

Lt. Gov. Hochul: Yes.

Gov. Cuomo:  And, you think if you save poor Catherine you could make them stop. Don't you.  You think if Catherine lives you won't wake up in the dark ever again to that awful screaming of the lambs.

Lt. Gov. Hochul:  I don't know. I don't know.

Gov. Cuomo: Thank you, Kathy. Thank you.

Lt. Gov. Hochul:
Tell me his name, governor.  

Gov. Cuomo: Dr. Chilton, I presume. I think you know each other.

Lt. Gov. Hochul:  It's your turn, governor. Tell me his name.

Gov. Cuomo: Brave, Kathy. You will let me know when those lambs stop screaming. Won't you. 


Freedom Lies In Being Bold -- Robert Frost

Abuse: The Fire Engines Of Penfield, New York

by Chris Chichester on 03/07/18

The frequency of a fire engine careening past my house at 26 Sanders Farm Drive in Penfield has achieved an absurd status.  The deployment of the vehicles is not directed at a structure burning to the ground.  It is for a situation where no fire or no emergency or no threat to human life exists. 

My house is approximately 300 yards from Penfield Road.  I've lived here for 5+ years.  On March 2 I walked to Wegmans on Willow Pond Way as a fire engine is blazing down Penfield Road.  In the opposite direction another screaming fire engine approaches.  I concluded The Towering Inferno or Acadia Planetia on Mars are destinations for this cacophony. 

Both fire engines stopped at 2140 Penfield Road.  This structure is perfectly normal in its presentation. There is not a puff of smoke in sight. Or an individual at a window in search of a ladder to escape a life-threatening blaze. Or an arsonist with a box of Diamond Strike-On matches in hand.  Why did two fire engines respond to a structure with no fire?  When I returned to my house the fire engines are gone. Each is at the residence for less than 20 minutes. 

Yesterday I left my house at 11:20 a.m. to go to Target. As I was about to enter the store two fire engines with blaring sirens travel by on Fairport Nine Mile Road. I don't know the reason, obviously.  I'm confident it is not an event that rivals the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.

Today at 11:24 a.m. an insane fire engine shrieked past my house.  The possible reasons:

 A cat is stuck in a tree
* A child lost his bike
A senior citizen misplaced his glasses
* A smoke alarm requires batteries
* A garden hose is punctured 
* Dunkin' Donuts at 1802 Penfield Road is about to run out of Maple Frosted With Sprinkles

The official identifiable vehicles of government are not the only vehicles on Penfield Road equipped with sirens.  On March 2 I walked to Wegmans. A white van performed a U-Turn on Penfield Road -- and the driver activated a siren. This vehicle has no government emblem or marker. Yet it began to travel in an emergency capacity.  The driver is an excellent candidate for fire department recruitment by Fire Marshall Tom Tette. 

I lived on Constitution Avenue in Washington, D.C. when I worked as the press secretary for Congressman Lamar Smith of Texas.  It is a majestic Avenue on the northern border of the National Mall and extends to the United States Capitol.  I rarely heard a fire engine in the most significant and powerful city on earth.  

I lived on Winthrop Avenue in Albany next to Washington Avenue for five years when I worked for Senate Majority Leader Ralph J. Marino and Governor George E. Pataki.  Washington Avenue is the major four-lane east-west route that travels to the New York State Capitol.  I wasn't under siege in my residence from fire engines. As firefighters in our capital city respond to . . . fire. 

From "Plenty of Firefighters, But Where Are The Fires" in The Boston Globe by Leon Neyfakh on September 8, 2013:

"The number of career fire fighters per capita in the United States is essentially unchanged since 1986, but of the roughly 30 million calls America's fire departments responded to in 2011, the last year for which statistics are available, only about 1.4 million were fire-related -- down by more than 50 percent since 1981, according to the National Fire Protection Association."

If the number of fire-related calls are down 50 percent nationally since 1981, the number of fire-related calls in Penfield are down 50 percent or thereabouts. If that assertion is incorrect I want to hear Penfield Town Supervisor Tony LaFountain explain precisely why. 

As the duly elected Town Supervisor since since January 1, 2010 Supervisor LaFountain is charged with a responsibility to ensure the proper use of government vehicles. The people own these vehicles.  The people deserve a fire department defined by integrity, character and dedication.  Integrity, character and and dedication is not present in Penfield because out-of-control public employees concoct emergencies in a disgraceful breach of public trust.

I wrote to Supervisor LaFountain.  He responded:

"Thank you for the email.  I will forward it on to the Penfield Fire District for their information as they are their own taxing district completely separate from the Town with an elected board. Their budget and election of board members is voted on by all residents of the town annually in December. Watch their legal notice of budget and board vote."

What a joke.  An election in December is the calculation that ensures low turn-out.  The only elections I can identify in December are special and run-off after the Louisiana Blanket or Jungle Primary.  Moreover, a separate taxing district insulates the fire district from accountability. 

For you individuals at the Penfield Fire Department I report that fire is a rapid oxidation of a material in the exothermic chemical process of combustion releasing heat and light.  Your job is to extinguish this threat. If you deduce no such threat exists you must forego the temptation to drive past my residence like the fast and furious.  And ludicrous. 


Freedom Lies In Being Bold -- Robert Frost

On The Abuse Of Police Power In Penfield, New York: Part II

by Chris Chichester on 02/28/18

"The function of the police is to solve problems that have law enforcement consequences in a way that is based on a genuine partnership with the neighborhood in both the venting of the problem and the discussion of the solution." -- James Q. Wilson

The Monroe County Sheriff's Office is deployed to my house at 26 Sanders Farm Drive in Penfield eight times during the last two months. Because I walk my shih tzu. It is manipulation and abuse of the law.  It is a disgraceful, ongoing harassment.  

For six years I've walked my dog along a dirt path next to my house. A parking lot separates my house from a business: Consumer Insights. The path travels 50 yards. My dog has defecated and urinated on its desolate earth 3,000+ times.  

On February 13 I walked him.  A car from Consumer Insights departed the parking lot as I stood on the dirt path.  It stopped and idled.  I looked at the driver and passenger. One minute passed.  The car continued to idle with its two occupants staring at me.  I ended this bizarre intrusion into my life with forceful language. 

Approximately thirty minutes later two Monroe County sheriff's deputies arrived at my front door. I asked: What law did I break?  Each failed to answer.  I asked: Is it illegal for a citizen to exercise his First Amendment right in public? Each failed to answer.  I asked: Did you bring a copy of the property record or title that demonstrates Eliot Roth of Consumers Insights owns the land I walk my dog on? Each failed to answer.  I asked:  What is the name of the individual abusing 911? Each failed to answer. Because I am not in violation of any law. Or statute. Or ordinance. Or rule. Or proclamation. 

One deputy decided I required an interrogation: 

Deputy: What did you say to the woman in car?! 
Chris Chichester: I said: What the fuck are you looking at? Fuck you. Just like I'm going to say to you as you stand there with that stupid look on your face: What the fuck are you looking at? Fuck you.
Deputy: Don't you swear at me.
Chris Chichester: I'll use any fucking language I want in my fucking house. Fuck you. 

I was surprised this character did not read my Miranda warning for the use of profanity in my living room. Or place me in a chokehold. Or handcuff me to the coat rack. Or subdue me with his X26 Taser.  

The delusional New Yorkers at Consumer Insights believe the Sheriff is a personal security detail. Rather than explain the lawful use of the police power to these extremists the Sheriff empowers them.  His deputies arrive at my house with an enthusiasm that should be reserved for felons.  It is a crime in our Empire State to falsely report an incident. From Penal Law § 240.50:  




My 12-pound dog exercising his bodily functions is not an impending catastrophe or emergency. He is also not a Davidian Seventh-Day Adventist in Waco, Texas or former U.S. Army special forces combat engineer living peacefully in a Ruby Ridge, Idaho cabin.  He is from the Tibet Plateau and demonstrates how the Wade-Giles scheme reflects the use of a syllabic fricative after a corresponding consonant in modern Mandarin.

Mr. Roth believes the proper method for resolving a dispute is not communication or conversation. He cravenly refused to knock on my door and talk to me directly.  When I attempted to speak to him at his business he screamed at me to leave -- and called the Sheriff's office. Again. 

I reported Consumer Insights to the Bureau of Consumer Frauds and Protection for Attorney General Eric Schneiderman.  I'm not waiting in breathless anticipation for a response. Despite the consumer fraud I now require protection from.  

I've never been arrested, charged or convicted of a crime.  I believe in the law and the propagation of a civil society.  Yet today I am the focus of law enforcement in performing a daily task notable for its banality. 

The Sergeant for the Zone came to my house after the confrontation with the two deputies.  It is the first time I spoke to an individual at the Sheriff's office with an understanding of police power. This appalling situation has careened to the point a supervisory deputy is in my living room because of: Boom Boom.  He is named after former World Boxing Association lightweight champion Ray "Boom Boom" Mancini.   

I adopted my dog from Lollypop Farm Humane Society in 2011.  After an interview about my experience and employment history.  I wanted a dog nobody wanted.  On that day I am unaware that the Monroe County Sheriff's Office is empowered to descend on my house like I'm a criminal mastermind of Penfield by the lunatic fringe represented at Consumer Insights. 

At his swearing-in ceremony on January 2 Sheriff Todd Baxter said: 

"I think people are just looking for that sense of hope when it comes to law enforcement." 

I hope I don't have to utter another syllable in front of your deputies, Todd. I hope you understand a criminal threat is not a dog walker. I hope you possess a professional comportment devoid of hysteria, extremism and incompetence. I hope you leave me alone.


Freedom Lies In Being Bold -- Robert Frost