#Illegal #fireworks are #ok with the @LVMPD. If you #dare #complain, they #come #after #you. "#Video is #not #evidence." #corrupt
And if you don't #show #proper #fear to the @LVMPD,they will #fondle their #guns for you. #Fear #tactic? #Compulsion to #masturbate?#curious
. @LVMPD:
https://www.facebook.com/cydniey.buffers/posts/542383315949034 …
https://www.facebook.com/cydniey.buffers/posts/542439052610127 …
https://www.facebook.com/cydniey.buffers/posts/542504595936906 …
Do you even care, or do I pay taxes for this?
A DM sent to LVMPD through Facebook:
"Chat Conversation Start
94K people like this including Tracey Brown
Government Organization
TUE 9:50PM
What exactly do you teach your patrol men before you send them onto the streets? Intimidation 101? Bullying 1B? Condescention (Advanced)?
Last night, after several illegal fireworks set small fires in my yard, I used poor (but in no way illegal) judgment and called my negligent neighbor an “asshole”. Even though (as I later found out) he wasn't the asshole at all. He just decided to be a dick and yell back at me, advising me to move and calling me a bitch. The fireworks kept coming, and I called 311, because I had put the fires out myself and didn't want to waste resources. No one ever came. I spent the entire night awake, waiting for the police to come and take my report and watch my video proof. Nothing.
In an admittedly overt gesture of passive-aggression, I wrote my neighbor a letter. In it I was snarky, sarcastic, vulgar, and downright mean on a personal level. Not very nice things, but again, in no way illegal. His car was parked on the street, so when I taped the letter to his windshield, I did not at any point encroach upon his property.
Imagine my surprise when a very upset young cop came to my door and reached through the security gate at my door to try to unlock it. We have that for protection against thieves and murderers, I never conceived that it would protect me from an overzealous cop.
I answered the door, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, Mr. Patrol Man was obviously furious and had come to set me straight. He demanded that I step out into the middle of my driveway, in full view of my neighbors, in front of his illegally parked car, as it was the only way he would talk to me. So I did.
What followed was the most terrifying and intimidating thing I have experienced since being savagely beaten in a mental hospital. I was baselessly accused of threats I did not make, and told that I said and done things that I never even thought about saying or doing.
And here's the thing. I am not afraid of the police. I grew up surrounded by “decent” cops, and I know their tactics. I respect what they do, 98% of the time, and go out of my way to support them and not involve them in silly, harmless drama (unlike my hysterical neighbor). But I do not fear them at all. There is no need, they are here for us, we are here for them.
But Patrol Man Babyface was not happy with this. Even going so far as to start fondling his gun and holster release, as he spoke to me. I took it as a scare tactic, and laughed in his face (not the most obvious sign of respect, but really, he was trying to scare me for no reason). Maybe I was wrong, maybe he has a masturbation disorder and it was past his break time. I don't want to misjudge.
Anyway, if these are the people that you have sent out into Las Vegas to “protect” us, I won't be calling the police, or cooperating with them any further, and my donations to police related charities stops today. I am ashamed that my tax dollars paid for that episode today. I am ashamed for you. And I fear for the general public.
And no, though my name and birthdate and husband were demanded of me, I was not given the privilege of the patrol man's name. I guess that is a secret you all keep so no one has to answer for their actions and it can go on unchecked. I do wish his nice African American partner had been the one to confront me, he seemed reasonable and managed to keep his hands away from his gun during the uneventful episode.
Check the attitude and intimidation, maybe people will be a little more willing to cooperate with you, instead of fighting you all the time."
And more from Twitter:
A #warning to the. #Mentally #ill of #Las #Vegas. Do not #believe the #PR, the #LVMPD are #NOT… https://www.instagram.com/p/BHhU6A1Dyz-/
#Warning for LasVegas #mentally #ill #people. #Beware @LVMPD #duckanddodge #PPHype #liars #terrorists #ammosexuals
Okay, @LVMPD, you've had 14 hours to #respond.Silence.Now the #ACLU, local #news #stations and #Americans with #Disabilities #advocates can.
Then, From Facebook:
I was so #traumatized by #Patrol #Man #Baby #Face #yesterday that after I #finally got him to #leave, I made a #gash in my #side (very #Jesus, I know, I'm #nothing if not #dramatic, and I had no #scars there yet). I #wonder if the #LVMPD would be kind enough to give me the cop's #name, so I can #tattoo it under the #scar. I want to #always and #properly #remember our #encounter, and never get his name #wrong in my #prayers.
The #LVMPD hasn't #bothered to #respond to my #inquiries regarding #Officer Baby Face #yesterday. Fucking pigs, I wouldn't say that, but I've lost all patience. All #brothers and #sisters. Here to #menace and #intimidate as a #united #front. Maybe I wouldn't #mind it so much if they didn't make so much #noise about how they are one of the #best forces in the country and they are so #civic #minded. It is all #lies for the #tourists. They are #armed #cowboys who had #bad #experiences in #high #school and got a #badge to take it out on #everyone they could before they #die. They obviously don't need the #public, and only see it as a horrible #obligation. Siding with the "#sane" (no matter how they reek of #beer) and the "#male" (no matter how #wrong they are) is their #thing. And if you aren't a #macho-law breaking white #man with a #house in the #suburbs, the #LVMPD just says "#fuck #you."
The thing is, I have spent a lot of time #praising the #LVMPD for their #mental #health ##outreach and #training. The #cop who gave me so much shit today #knew, when he tried to #break into my #house, that I was mentally #ill. That's probably why he #demanded to speak to my #husband.
Last week, LVMPD patrol men chased a #jaywalking mentally ill man into #traffic and off of an #overpass. What would have happened to me today, had there been a #freeway around?
So all this #shit about mental health outreach and training is just #PR #bullshit and #pretty #patches on their #uniforms. Nice to know. As I wrote to the LVMPD, I will no longer be #relying on them for #anything. As far as I'm concerned, I'm better off on my own than allowing these #roided-out #frat #boys to "#protect" me.
There's my #white #privilege and #woman #card. Like 'em?
#ICYMI: #Illegal #fireworks are #OK with the #LVMPD. If you #dare to #complain, they will #come #after you and #bully you #without #cause. You will also be #told that, "#Video is #not going to #help you." As I said to the cop, then what fucking use are you? We're on our own here in #Las #Vegas. And when this guy #shoots me, they #won't do a #thing but #ask #where my #husband is. #Worthless #fucks. #Protect and #serve the #elitist #drunks. #Fuck all of you, #except Lt. #Harry #Fagel. The only #decent one of #you that hasn't been #shot #down.
https://youtu.be/ZRbSOmpZoqM
Video Diary - he called the cops on me.
Stupid doucheweasel started a war he cannot win.
YOUTUBE.COM
And this is what get me bullied, harassed, and humiliated in front of about a dozen of my neighbors:
Midnight, PST
7 illegal fireworks are lit and head for my yard. Every year the guy behind us tries his damndest to burn down our house.
"Assholes!" I yelled.
"Wah-wah" was the reply.
"Fuck you, redneck" was all I could think to say.
"Move, bitch!"
So I turned Hole on full blast and turned the hose on him. He is hiding in his hose, throwing things and likely beating his wife. The police are on their way over there.
He is my new special friend. I will make it my goal that he and his loser wife never have another moment's peace in their backyard. I needed a hobby.
And finally, my article for medium.com:
Lessons From Frances
In the 1940’s, infamous movie star Frances Farmer had a problem with drink. The problem was, it enhanced her already assertive, take-no-shit attitude. As a result of run-ins based on these things, she was locked up against her will and treated to a series of cruel and unusual mental health “treatment” for years. Because she was “difficult.” Because she wouldn’t toe the Hollywood sexist party line. She was treated like an animal and left mindless and soulless for the rest of her life.
You would think in the 21st century, that sort of thing was in the past, wouldn’t you? After all, metropolitan police departments make a big noise these days about mental health outreach and training, and how they are allies to the mentally ill.
The reality is that if you jaywalk while mentally ill, you will be chased into traffic and off an overpass by those same “allies” who have received such comprehensive “training”.
Monday night, my neighbor broke the law. In the process, he set fire to my back yard. When I called the police, no one came. When I called him an asshole over the back wall, the police came. They made me walk out, barefoot, onto an unshaded 125 degree driveway and stand there to be interrogated. They accused me of things I did not do. They told me I made threats I did not make, and got angry with me when I said I could prove them wrong. They demanded my husband, they demanded my birth date.
And when things didn’t go their way, they started fondling their guns. Nice. Keep in mind, I broke no laws at any time. All I did was stand up for myself after a long evening with a hose, watching illegal fireworks come over my house and into my yard. My crime was admitting that I was crazy.
I didn’t cry in front of them. I didn’t break down. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. While they demanded I assure them of my future good behavior, I was given no assurances of my safety from harassment from my felonious neighbor. But I didn’t cry. When they got too aggressive, I insisted that they leave. They finally did.
And I went out into the back yard, my safe place, and sat down on my black velvet couch on the patio, lit a cigarette with shaky hands, and broke right the fuck down. Sobbed like a child who has just dropped their ice cream. And from over the wall, the wall I was no longer allowed to get anywhere near, or to be heard over, I heard my neighbor’s laughter. So I have to behave, but he can do what he wants, okay.
Here I will confess that I am very dramatic. I am also prone to taking weapons to my flesh when I feel scared, frustrated and cornered. And I was feeling all of these things as my neighbor stood laughing at my tears. So I took my knife, which will never again leave my side, and sliced a gash in my side, wishing that my neighbor could see me do it, but then thinking better of it, as he would have just laughed harder.
I’ve sent an official request to the LVMPD for the officer’s name, so that I may have it tattooed beneath the scar. I want to always remember who gave me this gift. They have not answered. Maybe they are too humble for tributes?
I guess I should consider myself lucky that I’m not in a state hospital jacked up on Thorazine for daring not to show fear to a cop. That’s what America is about, being grateful for your freedom when you had no real reason to lose it in the first place.
They won’t do to me what they did to Frances, and I will not stand down. You set fire to my yard, I call you an asshole. Until that is illegal, I will continue to do it. And I told the cop that. I will be nice, and quiet, as I have been for four years. But if he says or does one more thing toward me or my home, “it’s on.” Upon saying this, I walked back into my house. Fully expecting to be shot at any moment. The cops stood there on the drive way for a few minutes, I guess deciding what to do. They eventually left. There was probably an African American or homeless person getting uppity that they needed to put down.
That about covers it. But for his constant taunting over the wall, apparently the cop only told me to behave and gave Mr. Man permission to do whatever he wants. I don't want to think that it was him sitting outside my house for an hour yesterday, or the one poking around my driveway, trying to gain access to our barred house. And no, I will not call the police. I will kill the motherfucker if he makes it in and the cops can clean up the body and do their paperwork. Because victim-blaming and intimidating a schizophrenic person was more important to them than enforcing the law.
I don't know if the ACLU will/can do anything about it. My shrink advised that I record every future encounter I have with the cops or my neighbor. Though the cop said that video was not admissible, the ACLU lawyer disagrees. That boy knew I was mentally ill when he came over and put on his macho performance. Wrongly intimidating a schizophrenic person isn't nice. Threatening them and bullying them is a gross breach of ethics. Now I know why Doc won't let me out alone, this is the way I was treated in front of my own home. Had I been on the street somewhere, I would be in the morgue.
Fuck the police. I will never call them, or in any way cooperate with them again. And I will call them on all of their mental health PR lies. They treat us like dogs, less than. That isn't outreach, that isn't sensitivity. That is a little man metaphorically waving his flaccid hairless dick at me because he's got a gun and he thinks I'm afraid of him.
And LVMPD has answered NOTHING, further proving that they don't give a shit about you unless you are a sane white male who owns his own home. They can fuck themselves. The drug dealers in my neighborhood can do what they want, as far as I'm concerned. As the cop told me, mind my own business. If I see something, I won't say a thing. Let them be responsible for the carnage in the city because of their lies.