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I spent Friday night out with the cops’ downtown street crimes unit—to prove it, this beautiful wallpaper was waiting for me on my desktop when I came in this morning:
So, I know you’re wondering, what’s it like being undercover with the cops? Well, you know, I can’t say much, except for that I spotted a crack dealer and we took him down. No no, don’t thank me—just doing my job, ma’am. That’s me, in the poster, looking all tortured because the nature of my work is so tough, and you just wouldn’t understand it, you know?
There’ll be more on Blogtown about how I personally busted a downtown crack deal later today. In the mean time, feel free to express your gratitude any way you like. Or don’t. Like I say, sometimes people are a little dumbstruck in the face of my heroism, and that’s something I can understand. I’m just doing my job. Heroically.
First you eat a pig's head, then you ride around in a car with one? Great.
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It's the new face of the Mercury. Instead of using and enjoying drugs, we go around arresting people for selling them. We're all wearing our Just Say No t-shirts today and removing all mentions of narcotics from our archives. And instead of monitoring police for things like, oh, say, racism and fatal brutality, we spend our Friday nights joyriding with them. It was only a matter of time.