The Crowley Files

Lions and Tigers and…… Squirrels?

mcrowleyii78 — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 02:12:55 +0000

I am back in the game again… After a short bout of ‘Writer’s Block’ I’m back with a vengeance, look out world, I’m back in the saddle again. There are Plenty more atrocities forthcoming, many of which offer my often unsolicited and always uncensored opinions on a lot of the horrors going on around the world, more specifically right here in our own back yard, but first I wanted to make you laugh, give my fans a much needed ‘Smile workout.’
I got this story in an email from my wife who got it from a friend who got it from a friend etc, I don’t know the original author (as is normal with most of the chain, fwd, etc. Type emails.) and I am not sure how much of it is based in fact but nonetheless I had to share it because I laughed so hard I… Well let’s just say I laughed really freakin hard. Anyhow, on with the show.. I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I did!!!! Especially all my friends and fans who are current or former LEOs. Enjoy.

EVIL SQUIRREL

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect.

I was on Brice Street – a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile suddenly shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it — it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.

I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes.

His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leaped!

I am sure the scream was squirrel for “Bonzai !” or maybe “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” The leap was nothing short of spectacular…

He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity.

As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.

And losing …

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil little rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.

It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.

His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result.

Torque.

This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very good at it.

The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.

The squirrel screamed in anger.

The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.

I screamed in … well … I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maye 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.

The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.

This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle … my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me.

As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Valkyrie Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand … I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked … sort of.

Spectacularly sort of … so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams.

They weren’t mine…

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to ‘fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really … Except for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody’s front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver’s seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.

So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway.

That was one thing. The other?

Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. AND NOW HE HAS A PATROL CAR. A somewhat shredded patrol car … but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids.

Signing Off!!!
BOLO!!! (Be On the Look Out for the lay-person)
SOOPAH OPINIONS on Life or something like it are coming soon! In the mean time I hope you had a good laugh.

STOP THE PRESSES! Call In Sick World Scheduled To End Tomorrow!!!

mcrowleyii78 — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 22:14:17 +0000

Here it is.. I figured that its been a LONG time coming. So I wanna give my fans one last Original Piece for their Amusement, Entertainment, whatever.. But I figured it needs to be relevant too. So here we go. This retard, Harold Camping says “You must repent!! The world is ending!!! The second coming is nigh!, It’s all over fade to black May 21,2011., but listen I need you all to send me money to help spread the word so that everyone can be saved. Then the mass stupidity begins.. (Sorry to any of my fans, No wait if you were stupid enough to send this Jack-Wagon your hard earned cash I don’t need you as a fan.) I digress, the sad reality of society is that Millions of People sent this idiot Millions of $$$>> WTF? So May 21st came and went and well what do you know? Although, the world is steadily going down the tubes it didn’t end, in fact its no where near Armageddon. So all these people where pretty pissed, they got hosed, some of them sent this moron their ENTIRE LIFE SAVINGS thinking they wouldn’t need it considering the world was ending who would be around to collect on their debts, right? So since the world didn’t end this dude had to do some REALLY fast talking to avoid some redneck with no money, no job, and a WHOLE lot of time to realize that his life is truly in the crapper because he believed this dude and burnt out every ‘bridge’ in his life, but now has to face the music. So the Charming Mr. Camping says “Whoops! I transposed some numbers. The world is actually going to end on Friday October 21st, 2011!’ Amazingly people are still sending this idiot $$ the funny thing is that this is the THIRD time he predicted the end of days. So there you go People are STUPID.. Thats my take on it. Stupidity apparently contagious. I wish all of you luck and um yeah well, I’m going to work tomorrow and the day after etc. Because you see, I have a novel to finish, and yes I am that diluted to think that the end of the world will wait for my book to at least get published and see a release. PS>> Keep you eyes and ears open, I plan on starting a serial on my Fiction Blog here on WP ’Everything but Reality.” I think I have finally broken through my ‘block’>>> We shall see. They way things seem to be going with our wonderful Governor King (p)Rick Scott I could very likely have LOTS of free time come the first of the year. I hope not, but on the bright side it will give me lots of time to focus on my ‘Joonyah Troops’ and work on finally finishing the book and going to press. Of course if the world does end tomorrow it was nice knowing ya’ll and I’ll see ya when we all get upstairs!

Until next time!! SOOPAH TROOPAH is OUT!!!!

Soopah Ants and Grasshoppers

mcrowleyii78 — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 23:11:22 +0000

I know its been like forever since I’ve bothered to post anything. I apologize to all my fans for depriving you of my literary atrocities that you can help but want to read. Well you might be a little disappointed when you realize that this one is NOT an original attrocity, but one of the few emails that tend to get passed through more hands than a joint at a Willie Nelson Concert. (Yes, I went there. Of course because I wasn’t afraid to go there is why you are my fans.) Ok. So enough of the sappy stuff. Let’s get down to business. This is the story of the Ant and The Grasshopper. First it relates an abbreviated version of the ORIGINAL story with a solid moral. Then it tells an updated version of the story that fits the moral bankruptcy of today’s society. Before we go any further if you read this story and are some how offended than perhaps you should find a new blog to read. I just share my view points and express my opinions, I don’t set out specifically to offend ANYONE, but if some feelings get hurt by my opinions so be it. I probably won’t lose any sleep over it. In short if you get offended by what I write then kindly follow another blogger, perhaps one who writes about the mundane life of one of their gazillions of cats… Any way you get the point.. And thanks to name removed to protect the unsuspecting and innocent. (you know who you are though.) for sending me this email.. And on with the show. Side note.. I added some of my own personal thoughts in italics throughout both versions.

The ANT
AND THE
GRASSHOPPER

This one is a little different …..
Two Different Versions ….
Two Different Morals

OL D VERSION

The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long,
building his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool
and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the ant is warm
and well fed.

The grasshopper has no food or shelter,
so he dies out in the cold.

MORAL OF THE OLD STORY:

Be responsible for yourself!
and Hard work pays off!!!

MODERN VERSION

The ant works hard in the withering heat and the rain all summer long,
building his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks the ant
is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and
demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well
fed while he is cold and starving.

CBS, NBC, PBS, CNN, and ABC show up
to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper
next to a video of the ant in his comfortable
home with a table filled with food.
America is stunned by the sharp contrast.

How can this be, that in a country of such wealth,
this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

Kermit the Frog appears on Oprah
with the grasshopper and everybody cries when
they sing, ‘It’s Not EasyBeing Green…’ seriously!?!? Isn’t it like a law of Nature that Frogs EAT Grasshoppers? Anyway on with the story.

ACORN stages a demonstration in front of the ant’s
house where the news stations film the SEIU group
singing, We shall overcome.

Then Rev. Jeremiah Wright has the group kneel down
to pray for the grasshopper’s sake, while he damns the ants.

President Obama condemns the ant and blames
President Bush 43, President Bush 41, President Reagan,
Christopher Columbus, and the Pope
for the grasshopper’s plight.

Nancy Pelosi & Harry Reid exclaim in an interview
with Larry King that the ant has gotten rich off the back
of the grasshopper, and both call for an immediate tax hike
on the ant to make him pay his fair share. You mean like they (Dingy Harry and Nacy) got rich off the backs of hardworking law abiding citizens like us?

Finally, the EEOC drafts the Economic Equity &
Anti-Grasshopper Act retroactive to the
beginning of the summer.
The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number
of green bugs and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive
taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government Green Czar
and given to the grasshopper.

The story ends as we see the grasshopper and his
free-loading friends finishing up the last bits of the
ant’s food while the government house he is in,
which, as you recall, just happens to be the ant’s old house,
crumbles around them because the grasshopper doesn’t maintain it.

The ant has disappeared in the snow, never to be seen again.

The grasshopper is found dead in a drug related incident,
and the house, now abandoned, is taken over by a gang
of spiders who terrorize the ramshackle, once prosperous
and peaceful, neighborhood.

The entire Nation collapses bringing
the rest of the free world with it.

MORAL OF THE STORY:
Be careful how you vote in 2012. Does anyone besides me Miss good ol DUBYA now?
Vote Michelle Bachman 2012!!

The END! Thanks for reading. This has been another literary atrocity brought to you by SOOPAH TROOPAH productions! Stay tuned for more outrageous and obnoxious rants, gripes and politically incorrect opinions!

Soopah Recycled Humor

mcrowleyii78 — Mon, 02 May 2011 07:49:41 +0000

Ever since I’ve had an email address I would get ‘Those’ emails from friends and family, you know what I am talking about.. The ones that are forwarded from around the world, most of which are the lame and oh so timeless, chain letters.. Email has done wonders for the chain letter, now any jackass (who’s probably bored out of their skull at some dead end job decided that to fulfill their day a little bit on company time.) wants to start a chain letter can do so by simply sitting down in front of any computer, the likes of which are very readily available at most places of employment, can crank out a few keystrokes and away we go.. They don’t even have to buy stamps anymore! Of course there is the occasional bit of humor. Some of that humor is the, laugh till you cry, and eventually even wet your pants funny. Those ones I have always tried to share. These types of posts used to by known in the Ghetto (Read: My old MySpace Blog) as Soopah Plagirisms, but since its my new ‘Professional’ Blog I had to come up with a new name.. So I will simply refer to them as ‘Recycled’ humor. Any how I hope you enjoy this fine example of my Soopah Plagirisms from back in the days of the GHETTO! A warning and a side note before we continue, WARNING! There is some graphic language contained here in. If you are easily offended by foul language then STOP NOW, don’t read any further..In fact you may want to find another Blog to follow because while not profanity laced I do drop an occasional F-Bomb and other such words.. Side note; As I eluded to earlier, this a one of my original MySpace blog entries, for those who actually still hang out in that Ghetto known as MySpace will realize that the Blog posted below is copied from my original MySpace blog. THANKS and enjoy

January 19, 2008

This one is Definitely not original but damn it was funny enough it brought tears to my eyes. So I had to share… Thanks Sis for the laugh it came at a time when I really could use it. Don’t know who the original author was (as is usually the case with this stuff)….. But it’s still damn funny. So get cozy and enjoy another installment of Soopah’s psuedo plagarism.

My kid is a dick!

Ya want to know something, fuckface? There are kids in Africa who would literally bite the throat of a fellow citizen to enjoy a shopping experience at Wal-Mart. Are you so spoiled? Are you too good? Stop fucking crying. I mean it. You’re cramping daddy’s style.C’mon kiddo, stop throwing this fit and I’ll get you a cookie from Subway. They have one up front.What do you mean that “they’re all stale?” You have chosen to utter three goddamn words during the entire duration of this massive mental meltdown, and it’s some shit about NOT being interested in an offer for a fucking cookie?Are you mad? All kids like cookies. Don’t you want to be like everyone else?

There is something seriously fucking wrong with you, boy.

Who taught you that things go stale, anyway? You can’t believe everything you hear.

Your mother was lying. Cookies just get extra dry and crispy. Don’t be such a pussy.

I’m guessing that “pussy” must be a cue for you to stomp your feet more. Excellent.

Would you please put an end to this nonsense?

Holy God, your eyes look like you’ve been on a three day bender.

People are beginning to point.

I strongly urge you to gather yourself. At the very least, you might want to grab a tissue and wipe the gigantic ropes of snot that are wildly flailing from your nose. You look like a fucking Star Wars character.

Wow. I cannot believe that you just did that.

That was completely uncalled for.

I will only tell you this once. Look at me when I’m talking to you.

If your Dale Earnhardt ”Intimidator” cap happens to come into contact with the Wal-Martfloor once more, I will sell your bike to that crazy fucking neighbor kid for a dollar fifty. Disrespect Dale and you disrespect yourself.

He drove a race car really fast. That counts for something in my book.

Hold on, my phone’s buzzing. Quiet down for a sec…or just keep screaming and crying.

Ah, yes…I thought this message might come in.

Santa Claus just sent me a text message and said that he’s not going to bring you shit if you don’t knock it the fuck off. He also said that he will cut Rudolph with a butterfly knife if you don’t blow your goddamn nose.

Fine, don’t believe me.

Just take a couple deep breaths. You can do it. I think the cashier is calling the cops.

Get a grip.

Hey. You know what I read in the paper the other day?

I heard that every time you cry, a kitten explodes.

Isn’t that fucking terrible?

You should really stop crying.

Picture the little guy. He’d be horsing around; playing with a ball of yarn. Every once in a while, he’d rub his face against the carpet and meow. Then he’d explode. Blood and guts would be all over the fucking place, all because you refused to refrain from melting down like a fucking crazy person.

I guess that you must really be into killing kittens, you sick fuck.

Take your hand off the Earnhardt cap, son.

I told you. This doesn’t involve Dale. Don’t bring him into this any more than you already have.

You should really be pooling all of your energy into stopping all of that goddamn water that’s shooting out of your eyes. You look like a fucking fool.

The greeter guy working the door at the entrance, the one with a single leg and an eye patch, is looking at me like he feels sorry for ME. Unfucking real.

I should seriously discipline you in some way right now, but screaming children is one of the many things that make Wal-Mart shopping totally awesome.

So…we about done yet? I didn’t think so.

I’ll be getting some shut-eye out in the parking lot. Wobble your fucking ass out to the car when you get tired.

Ok so now that you’ve had your laugh slowly get up out of your chair, (if you are at work/school find something to carry in front of you to hide the piss spot) and go into the bathroom and clean yourself off and ladies reapply your mascara, and enjoy the rest of your day.

Much Love

SOOPAH TROOPAH

Until next time

I am 10-42, stay safe Brothers and Sisters.

Countdown to the Tournament

mcrowleyii78 — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 02:46:45 +0000

I am a card player. I love to play poker. I would never claim to be a Card Shark, maybe a minnow. Things have come together for me to take the first step to becoming a ‘Professional’ poker player. My current job (which I love) has afforded me the time off I need to begin this endeavor (it’s only 2 days as of right now.) and my Dad has been generous enough to ‘buy me in’ to this first step, a World Series of Poker satelite event. Look for more Blogs in this category as I endeavor to become a Professional Poker player. I don’t know where this endeavor will take me but you can follow me right here, and of course, on FB and Twitter. This is my first REAL tournament. ( I have played in somel small time local level non-sponsored cash games and tournaments.) The tournament is roughly 5 days away. I will spend the next 5 days getting into a ‘tournament mindset.’ I am writing this blog for a few reasons. Mostly just to chronicle the life an ‘amatuer’ poker player in his journey to a Professional. Another reason is in the hopes that one of my Poker idols like Phil Hellmuth or Daniel Negreanu see my blog and offer input and insight into what it takes to become a pro.
For those who are wondering about my book, my photography and my flash-fiction, its still here, and the book is still coming along slow and steady.
Poker has always been one of if not my favorite activities.
I hope all of my fans enjoy following me as I take on this new endeavor.

Welcome to a SOOPAH 2010

mcrowleyii78 — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 16:39:06 +0000

Well 2010 has gotten off to a great start for yours truly. I am up to SIX loyal fans now. Thanks to my lovely wife, my Mom and, Dad, My Sis,my kids and, oh yeah you too Ann. We almost have enough for a whole Troop!
Weather wise 2010 has gotten off to a chilly start. Especially here in FL. So I have one really important question before we dive in. Is it just me or do you not get the sudden urge to reach up and give someone a SOOPAH kick in the teeth when they whine about ‘Global Warming’? Ok. I’m glad it wasn’t just me. I was starting to feel like Helen Keller trying to find her way out of a door-knob factory.
Anyway I am just laying out a plan for 2010 for all six of my loyal fans. It’s sort of my ‘to do’ list for 2010. It doesn’t cover everything, if I did that then no one would be surprised by some of my stuff, and what fun would that be. You guys read me for the shock value, right? But it gives you a general idea of what to expect in 2010
If you haven’t noticed I have a second WP blog now. Don’t worry this one isn’t going anywhere. The other one “Everything but Reality” covers just that. All of my Flash Fiction will be found there. It also allows me an opportunity to introduce the Characters of my book. It also allows my fans to comment on them, whether they hate ‘em , love ‘em whatever the case may be. As of the Original posting of this entry the only thing on the ‘Everything but Reality’ side is the ‘About Me’ section, feel free to check it out.
Speaking of books I hope to get mine out sometime this year. I have decided to take the ‘Self Publishing’ option with it. So I will officially be an ‘indie’ author. I also plan on seeing where my photography takes me. Look for lots more of it in 2010. All in all I plan to make 2010 a SOOPAH year! I hope all of you have a SOOPAH year as well.

Respect Our Servicemenand Women!

mcrowleyii78 — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 04:09:02 +0000

I received an email from a friend of mine the other day and I was disgusted by what I read, not just disgusted but appalled. Our servicemen and women stand fast on the front lines everyday and to hear a story like the one I am about to share is a travesty. This story was in the St. Petersburg Times on January 5th of this year. Its just disgusting how this could even have happened. The man was a decorated war hero. I am however glad to see that there were at least a couple of young people that stepped up and made sure that this man was honored like he deserved. It may have been a little late, but at least he got the honor he deserved.

The two teenagers got to the cemetery first. He wore his dark green dress uniform from the National Guard. She wore a long black dress. They stood on the edge of the road, across from rows of matching military headstones, waiting for the funeral of the man they had never met.

Mike Colt, 19, and his girlfriend, Carol Sturgell, 18, had driven more than an hour from their Tampa homes last month to be at Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell.

They weren’t really sure why they had come. They just knew they had to be here.

“It’s kind of sad, huh?” asked Sturgell, scanning the sea of white gravestones.

Colt nodded. “Yeah, but it feels kind of important.”

At 12:20 p.m., a Tampa police car pulled up, then a white Lincoln Town Car. Another police cruiser followed. Two officers stepped out.

“Thank you for being here,” Colt said, shaking both of their hands.

“No, thank you,” said Officer Dan College. “If it weren’t for you guys, none of us would be here.”

More than a month ago , on the last Saturday of November, the young couple was hanging out at Sturgell’s house when her brother rode up on his bike, all excited. He had found two fishing poles in this huge pile of trash. Come check it out, he said. So they did.

At the edge of the trash mound, sticking out from beneath a box, Sturgell spied a worn green folder.

She pulled it out, brushed off the dust. Across the top, bold letters said, “Department of Defense.” Inside, she found retirement papers from the U.S. Army; a citation for a Purple Heart issued in 1945; and a certificate for a Bronze Star medal ”for heroism in ground combat in the vicinity of Normandy, France … June 1944.” In the center of the certificate there was a name: Delbert E. Hahn.

Why would anyone throw that away? Sturgell asked.

And who is that guy? Colt wanted to know. Must be old, a World War II vet. Looks like he served at D-Day!

That night, they took the paperwork back to Sturgell’s house and searched Delbert E. Hahn on the computer. Nothing. They talked about who he might have been, the life he might have led.

The next morning, they went back to the trash heap and searched for more clues. They rummaged through boxes, overturned furniture, picked through piles of the past. Colt moved a ratty couch – and something fell out. A metal vase, or box, some kind of rectangular container about a foot tall. On the base was the name: Delbert E. Hahn.

“It’s him,” Colt told his girlfriend. “This must be him, in his urn.”

Sturgell screamed. She didn’t want to touch it. It was kind of freaky, she said, discovering the remains of some dead guy.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Colt said. “No one should be thrown away like that, just left in a parking lot.”

The dead man wasn’t alone. Under the couch, the couple found two more sets of remains: a cylinder-style container with Barbara Hahn printed on the bottom and another urn, which had no name.

Tampa police Cpl. Edward Croissant had just reported for the night shift that Sunday when his officers showed him the urns. This kid and his girlfriend had found them and brought them to the station.

Then an officer told Croissant about the Purple Heart. The Bronze Star. And the Normandy invasion.

And Croissant became irate. He had served eight years in the Navy. He’s in the Coast Guard Reserve. “I had three uncles in World War II. That was the greatest generation. If it wasn’t for those men, we would have nothing,” he said.

“That man saw combat. And someone just dumped him there? He deserves a better ending.”

Police called the Department of Veterans Affairs and learned Hahn had died in 1983, at the age of 62, -and was a highly decorated war hero. The staff sergeant had served in the infantry and been honored with five Bronze Stars and two Purple Hearts.

Barbara Hahn, they learned, was the soldier’s wife.

So how did their remains end up in that mound of garbage? Where was the rest of their family, or friends, anyone who would want their ashes? And who was in that third urn?

Neighbors filled in some of the story: Barbara Hahn had been a widow forever, they told police. For years, her mother had lived with her. Her mother’s name was Barbara, too.

The elder Barbara had lived to be more than 100. They thought she died around 2000. That third urn, neighbors told police, must be her.

The younger Barbara, the soldier’s wife, got sick in 2003. A couple came to care for her, and she wound up willing them her mobile home. When she died, the couple moved in, took out a mortgage, then didn’t make payments.

The bank foreclosed on the trailer late last year.

In November, officials sent a maintenance company to clear it out. The workers must have just dumped everything behind the vacant building on Busch Boulevard, neighbors told police. Including the remains of three people.

Just before 1 p.m. Dec. 16 , the two teenagers led the car line through Florida National Cemetery. Police followed, then the funeral director who had the urns. Outside a wooden gazebo, two rows of National Guardsmen stood at attention.

The funeral director handed the first soldier a flag, the next one the cylinder with Barbara Hahn’s remains, the third one the brass urn with Delbert Hahn.

(Barbara’s mother’s remains are still in the evidence room of the police station. Since she wasn’t a veteran or married to one, she wasn’t entitled to be buried in the military cemetery..)

“Let us open the gates of the Lord,” said a military chaplain, who led the procession of strangers into the gazebo. “Let us remember,” said the chaplain, “none of us lives only unto himself.”

The teenagers sat on the front bench. Three officials from Veterans Affairs sat behind them. They had spent weeks searching for the Hahns’ relatives, any distant kin or friend, someone who might want their ashes – or at least want to come to their burial.

They couldn’t find anyone. Even the couple whom Barbara Hahn had willed her home to didn’t show.

By the time the chaplain lifted his head from the Lord’s Prayer, a long line of men had wrapped around the gazebo.

Wearing blue denim shirts and work boots, they clasped their caps in their hands and bowed their heads. Dozens of groundskeepers from the cemetery had left their Christmas party to come pay respects to the man who, in death, had been so disrespected.

A bugler played taps. The riflemen fired three shots. And 56 people watched the honor guard fold a flag over the urns of the man and woman they never knew.

A SOOPAH look back at 2009

mcrowleyii78 — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 16:38:13 +0000

Ok. What SOOPAH Blog would be complete without raw unsolicited unedited and politically incorrect look back at 2009? That’s right. It wouldn’t be. So here it is.
We started off the year with Barack Hussein Obama taking the oath of office. Thus far this president has been the most abysmal failure in modern times. Hope and Change, whatever. I’ll keep my hope and you Mr. President, can keep the ‘change’.
Then we had Sully Sullenburger. A true American Hero. To hear him tell it he was just doing his job. The reality is he saved 159 crew and passengers from a cold watery grave. He safely landed US Airway flight 1549, an Airbus A320 crippled by a bird strike on the Hudson River. That’s right he landed a behemoth aircraft on a River! Safely. According to reports, as the ferries arrived to shuttle the passengers to shore, he checked over the entire plane, TWICE, to make sure that no one was left behind. That’s a hero in my book.

Of course we had Jon and Kate, well there’s not too much to say about that one, other than LET THOSE KIDS BE KIDS DAMN IT! Jon moved on and on and on… Ok whatever get over it folks.
The economy went further into the crapper, but it’s beginning to turn around where I don’t know.
The Secret Service got a black eye when they let a presidential shindig get crashed (Turns out they were professional party crashers, I’d never heard of such a thing).
Then there was Octomom, do I really need to say anymore about that.
The war on terror is still going full tilt in Iraq and Afganistan.
A Playboy model had a baby, the made a Reality Program about her life. I mean really, Do we not have enough garbage on Television?
Bobby Bowden stepped down. This was a dark day in College Football. It still hurts to talk about it.
Of course we ended 2009 on an ‘up’ note, sort of. We increased airline security. It was increased because some Moron decided that he would try to blow up his pants on an international flight from Kenya to Detroit. His pants. Now we can’t get up to pee during the last hour of any flight. That’s an ugly thought. Maybe they’ll work their way up a little further, nearer to the genitalia and eliminate themselves from the gene pool, thus saving air-travelers the world over from further inconvenience when traveling.
And then there’s the whole Pope-Jumping incident. What an idiot. Not much to say about that one, other than You Retard!
Ok. Now on a look at my own 2009.
I had some ups and downs during 2009, my first FULL year in FL.
I graduated from the Florida Department of Corrections Basic Recruit Program near the top of the middle of my class.
My wife’s stepfather passed away this year after a short but harrowing fight with Lung Cancer. RIP Terry Bailey.
Mrs. Troopah and I successfully potty trained our daughter. This was put to the test on our 10-hour drive to Mississippi. (we cheated and broke it up into 2 5-hour sections, but still that’s impressive for a three year old. ( Like any 3 year old, we still have an occasional accident. ).
I have spent some time developing my poker skills and working on my entry into WSOP. I think I am ready. Look for me in the 2011 Main Event.
I created this Blog for all of my fans. I know there’s only 5 of you. Thanks Mom, Dad, Sis, and Adrienne. I still love the little bit of attention that I do get when people read my blog(s).
I have dedicated a lot more time to my family and my writing and photography. Of course my son celebrated his first birthday. This is an accomplishment considering how he started out in life. He is as happy and healthy as any kid I’ve come across, it’s like nothing ever even happened.
Then of course my daughter turned 3 this year as well. Three year olds are tons of fun. Watching her makes me enjoy every moment in life just like she does.
On a more somber note my wife got pregnant and unfortunately lost the baby early on. These things happen for a reason, even if we don’t know what that reason is. You have to have faith. I finished 2009 on a slightly Painful note… I developed a horribly infected big toe. I’ve been on Anti-Biotics for a bit now, had it sliced open and cleaned out, the nail had to be cut back, it’s pretty painful. It feels much better now. I have one last trip back to the doc to get it un-wrapped and cleaned for the last time and it should be good. Wish me luck with this one.
The next question is what will 2010 bring. Only time will tell. Heck, I might even try a new Gluten free diet. If I do look for Blog entries right here dedicated to “The Diet’ Look for my book to come out sometime late 2010, hopefully in time for Christmas. I plan on going to Vegas at least once, to play in a WSOP event. I plan on selling more of my photography and some Flash Fiction along the way. I wish all of my fans a SOOPAH Happy and Prosperous New Year. Until next year this blog is 10-98 (Complete) SOOPAH TROOPAH is 10-7 for the rest of the Year.

The systematic handcuffing of American Law Enforcement

mcrowleyii78 — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:33:36 +0000

It has started. The systematic unraveling of the United States Constitution. It’s actually beginning with the systematic handcuffing of American Law Enforcement. In a Supreme Court decision expected any day now it is believed that Law Enforcement will have to re-write the famous Miranda Warning. (You know the one…. You have the right to remain silent, etc.) Apparently someone felt that the miranda warning (specifically the section relating to Legal Counsel ie a lawyer) was too vague and that he didn’t understand that he could stop any questioning and ask for a lawyer. His claim is that if he had known he could stop and ask for a lawyer at any time he would have never confessed to his misdeeds. Really? This is just a ridiculous thought. Any half wit could utter the words “Can I talk to a lawyer?” Then any detective worth his salt will say “Ok interview’s over, for now. See me when you get a lawyer.” The detective won’t be real happy about it, but the law is the law, we’re here to enforce it. The thought that Miranda needs any further ‘Clarification’ is preposterous. This is the beginning of a slippery slope. Soon when we arrest a subject instead of reading them Miranda we’ll simply call a lawyer for them. Of course this is a ridiculous proposition. Especially to the tax paying law abiding citizen. To me this is a sign. A sign that Lifetime appointment to the Supreme Court is a BAD idea. The justices of the supreme court are proving that they are more and more out of touch with the ‘common’ people of America, the very people whose rights and liberties they are supposed be protecting. I think this case demonstrates a need to ‘clean house’ in the supreme court and appoint 9 new faces.. I also think that the sitting president should not be the one to appoint a new justice everytime there is an opening. I believe it should be put to a vote by the American Public. I believe this will prevent the self serving yes men (and women) like Sonya Sotomayor (Ever notice how her initials are ‘SS’? Hmm is this a sign?) from being appointed in order to perpetuate the agenda of a president long after they have left office. Well, this is still the best system in the world, for now anyway.

Thanks to all my ‘Soopah’ Fans for stickin with me through the doldrums of the dreaded writers block. Look for more AC stuff soon. I am also making progress on my book as well. Hopefully I’ll have it finished and published before Obama and his green henchmen outlaw the use of paper. Anyway this blog is 10-98 so, This is Mark Crowley II, The SOOPAH TROOPAH signing off. 10-7 Stay safe and keep clickin.

Will the REAL Tiger Woods Please Stand Up?

mcrowleyii78 — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 03:59:50 +0000

Everyone knows him as the ‘Whitest’ Black man ever. Tiger Woods. He had the ‘Mr. Perfect’ persona, the milk toast, easy going guy that everyone loves. He’s the pitch man for Buick, he’s arguably the best Pro Golfer ever, he’s a pitch man for Nike, and he lives in one of the most exclusive communities in Central Florida. Did anyone stop to think about how he made it to the ‘top’? For my SOOPAH readers we’ll start simpler, How does anyone make it to the ‘Top’? Are they simply gifted and use that gift, or is there more to it? There’s a lot more to it than just being gifted, you have to be the best at what you do. That means you have to have an alpha attitude. The kind of attitude that people may at times find to be Arrogant and Self Centered. You have to be a fierce competitor. Unwilling to just ‘settle’. Well to me and I think most others Tiger never seemed to be a ‘Fierce’ competitor, yet he got to the top somehow. So if he got to the ‘top’ of golf game by ‘Not settling’, then why on Earth would he ‘settle’ with other aspects of his life, like for example the wife he had. (Not saying that the wife is wife is a dog or anything.)

Now the real Tiger Woods has stepped out into public the public eye. He had a traffic accident. However this was no ‘normal’ traffic accident, if there is such a word. First of all I would like to point out the Irony in the fact that he was driving a Cadillac instead of sporting around one of the Buicks that he shamelessly plugs every chance he gets. The truth is out. He couldn’t just ‘settle’ for the home life he had. He kept wanting more. In fact, he allegedly had 10 more women. This is just ridiculous. He is scum. He is fake. There are women just pouring out of the woodwork to get heard and get a piece of this pie. I mean, a Perkins waitress? Really? She ranks on a list of women that include a swimsuit model/ Hooters Girl and (supposedly) a porn star. I am about to sound SOOPAH arrogant, I have nothing against a working class woman, but seriously what could a Perkins waitress offer someone like Tiger Woods. Ok. Stop writing the hate mail. I understand that there’s the rare person that is ‘Laying Low’ in life, like that dude from Good Will Hunting, but as a whole, the women of Perkins don’t have much to offer someone like Tiger Woods, except a departure from his ‘perfect’ life. Ok. So now to the point. Tiger Woods is not the mellow, selfless, all-American athlete we all came to know and love on our T.V. sets. He is actually a selfish self-centered ego maniac whose ego got so big it finally started to eat itself. Read between the lines folks. The damage to that truck is minimal yet his wife felt like she had to break out the back window of the truck to get him out of the FRONT DRIVER SEAT. The first question is Why? Did you not just OPEN THE DOOR. Perhaps because you busy systematically destroying every window in that truck after finding out that he had yet another mistress that you didn’t know about. Well you know what? Good for you sister, he deserves every bit of the Ass Whoopin he;s totin’ right now. AMEN
So ends another SOOPAH Blog. This Blog is officially 10-98.
PLease check out my AC pieces as well. I really enjoy writing so if I can make a little money here and it makes it that much better.