After seeing the blip on my radar for this story on Mike Rowe’s Facebook page as well as on The Blaze I knew it was going to be an interesting story for sure, and I was right. If you don’t know who Mike Rowe is then you just might want to come out from under your rock today. Yes, I know, we are not all fans of Mike Rowe, the rest of us won’t hold that against you. I saw the truth and humor in what was said therefore its time to share. Everything below, text and pictures, was borrowed from The Blaze in its original form without anyone’s permission to repost it, please enjoy.
“After Mike Rowe Had a Disagreement With a Lawyer at a Liquor Store, He Went Home and Did This Just to Spite the Attorney.
Mike Rowe, the former “Dirty Jobs” TV host and current head of Mike Rowe Works, has shown he’s not afraid to say what he thinks. Monday, he proved it once again — and took on a lawyer in doing so. It all started when Rowe decided to hit a local liquor store recently and noticed a picture near the front of the shop. That picture was of a man in a white shirt that the store was identifying as a shoplifter.
“Good for you,” Rowe says he told the owner whilerecalling the encounter on Facebook. “I wish every store in the country did this.”
That’s when things got a little awkward. Someone behind Rowe in line disagreed, saying that it wasn’t right to publicly shame someone who may be innocent.
That started getting Rowe a little fired up. The conversation continued with Rowe’s response as well as the store owner’s:
[Rowe continued:] “If I were falsely accused I would feel angry. But why would the owner put my face in his window and identify me as a shoplifter if he didn’t have proof that I was in fact a shoplifter?”
“Mistakes happen,” said the guy in line.
I looked at the manager and said, “Frank, have you ever made a mistake or falsely accused someone of shoplifting from your store?”
“Of course not,” said Frank. “I have the proof on the video. I put up a new photo every week. I have hundreds of these scumballs on tape.”
“Really? So has this strategy helped cut down on theft?”
“Big time,” said Frank. I used to get ripped off every day. Now it’s more like once a week.”
And that’s when the lawyer got involved. According to the lawyer, Frank the storeowner could technically be sued for posting the photo and shaming the man. That’s when Rowe became “incredulous” and even had some blunt words for the attorney:
Then a third guy chimed in. He identified himself as a lawyer, and said that even if Frank had proof of the crime, the guy in the photo could sue him and very likely win. I was incredulous.
“On what grounds?” Telling the truth in a storefront window?”
The lawyer shrugged. “I could argue that the man in that photo – were he my client – suffered irreparable harm to his reputation and public standing. I’d argue that Frank here was the proximate cause of that damage. Moreover, the level of potential harm caused by this photo goes far beyond the punishment typically handed down for this kind of petty crime.”
“Are you that good a lawyer,” I asked? Or does our country really have it’s head that far up it’s own ass?”
For the next ten minutes, we discussed the law, public shaming, petty theft, and the rights of the accused. I expressed my belief that stocks should be brought back to the public square. Frank concurred. The first guy in line called me a “modern day Torquemada,” which I took as a compliment. The lawyer was in favor of stocks, but only because they’d be good for business. The whole thing made me very thirsty for the Whistle Pig, waiting patiently in my brown paper bag.
Finally I asked, “What would happen if I posted this photo on my Facebook page? Could the shoplifter then sue me?”
“Alleged shoplifter,” said the guy in line.
“Sure,” said the lawyer. “Anybody can sue anybody for anything.”
“Yeah, but would you take the case?”
The lawyer looked at me with something I’ll call recognition. “If I thought there were a decent chance at a recovery, sure.”
“So if I post this image on my Facebook page, and the guy in the photo comes to you and says I’ve ruined his reputation by telling the world he’s guilty of shoplifting, you’d sue me? Even if the guy is proven guilty on tape?”
“Suing celebrities is fun,” said the lawyer. They usually settle, just to avoid the headache. But just to be clear – I’d sue Frank here as well.”
So what did Rowe do? He decided to stick it to the lawyer. He posted the picture of the crook (although he redacted the face):
“After careful consideration and deliberation with Frank, I’ve decided to post the photo in his front window,” Rowe concluded. “But upon the advice of my own attorney, I’ve concealed the identity of the no-good shoplifting scumbag in the white tee-shirt and jeans. I realize this defeats the purpose, but that’s what things have come to in my world.”
So far the post has over 55,000 likes and over 10,000 shares.
Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!
When someone e-mailed me with this Realtree Camouflage Toyota Venza I was at a loss for words. I’m still at a loss for words to tell y’all the truth. Now, I’m not knocking the Realtree Camouflage, but I would have to really question doing this camouflage wrap on a Toyota Venza. Why? WTF? I have NEVER, repeat NEVER, seen a Venza out in the woods loaded with hunting gear, loaded with large men, or a big bad buck strapped to the hood. Why haven’t I see this? Because it isn’t very practical as a hunting vehicle. The Venza itself, very practical I’m sure, but not really what I’m looking for when I shop a vehicle to take me deep in the woods to do a little hunting.
I was reminded, by my wife no less, that camouflage has gone “mainstream” and isn’t just for the “hunter” any longer. She’s right, I must admit, camouflage is the new black and everyone is using camouflage to make some sort of a statement. Here’s my statement, “I am a hunter, I use camouflage to remain unseen so I can bring home dinner”. When I see things like this Venza I want to just weep for mankind because I know it won’t be long now before bad decisions will make us ALL extinct. The Venza camouflage job looks great, the company did a fantastic job inside and out, they just made a bad judgement call actually going through with the Venza wrap. I mean really, what kind of fucktard does a Realtree Camouflage wrap on a Toyota Venza anyways?
At age 24 Ariel has seen quite a bit. She has seen the great things in life as well as the outright bullshit that life has to offer on occasion. She finds herself lucky now because she has retired, never needing to work again unless she does it out of boredom. If you are asking yourself how she can be retired at the age of 24 that’s good, you caught it, but you will have to wait a while for the answers to your questions. I remember my many talks with Ariel as I read the notes I wrote in my little black notebook, I remember it like it was yesterday, her story impacted the way I think about certain things, because eventhough I was right, I was wrong as well. As much as I hate being wrong I’m well aware that it happens, doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it though. I wonder how many young women go through the phases of being able to use their bodies as a tool of sorts, a tool which allows them to fix things and open doors that may never have been opened without the use of their body. Ariel admits that she isn’t proud of everything she has done in her past but doesn’t regret it either because it has all gotten her where she is today, out of the rat-race, out of the concerns of getting a paycheck, and out of ever having to be someone’s perfect stranger.
It all started on Ariel’s first real date with a boy. She was 15 and he was close to 19. He promised her the world on a platter if she would have sex with him. She had never had sex before so she didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t even know if she wanted to have sex, she had heard stories of a girl’s first time before and it never sounded exactly pleasant. After some thought of what this boy had to offer, his offer of the world on a platter made her think that he would treat her as if she was a princess. Which, as always, when they hung out together he was very kind to her and treated her very well, so many of her concerns where left by the wayside. So, she agreed, she let him know and he said he would get everything set up. Later in the day he informed her that he had got a really cool hotel room for them. She spent many hours getting ready, she wanted to look just right, she wanted her first time to be different, she wanted her first time to actually mean something and be special for both of them. He stopped by her house and picked her up. He wanted to go party a bit first since he had promised some friends that he would drop by. They spent about a half hour there where she was ditched to hang out with the rest of the “girlfriends”, none of whom she even knew. Before long they finally left and drove to the hotel. It was the nicest hotel in town, it had better be because his family owns it. She tried not to think how many girls he has brought back to the hotel, she just imagined this would be the first time for both of them, she smiled at him as they walked straight to the room, and finally they had arrived.
As soon as they entered the room she noticed it was dark except for a single red light. He told her to get up on the bed and strip for him, strip for him like he was paying her to strip, it was time to earn the ride of a lifetime as he put it. She stepped onto the bed and slowly began to strip to a song she was listening to in her head. He clapped, whistled, and began throwing money onto the bed at her feet. When she was finally naked she just moved slowly, waiting for the next instructions, but then everything went crazy. A rag was jammed into her mouth that tasted like gasoline, a bag was slipped over her head while her hands were pulled behind her back, she felt the zip-ties dig into her wrists as well as around her neck. She knew she was dead, she knew she was about to be raped, she knew it was going to hurt, she knew she couldn’t scream, and she knew that there was nobody to help her. From behind she was pushed down flat on her stomach to the bed then she felt hands grab her ankles and flip her over. This is when she realized that there was more than one person in the room but how many was unknown, she didn’t want to know to be honest. One person had ahold of her right leg at the ankle and the knee, and another person on the other side doing the same, they had pulled her legs straight out as if she was doing the splits mid-air. Her legs were shaking from the muscle stress and the cramps began to set in. She just wanted it to be over, she tried to scream but could only gag.
Out of the blue she felt a shocking jab into her vagina, then it began to go deeper, then deeper, tearing the skin each time it thrust inside her. She couldn’t figure out what was happening, the object was cold and very hard. Then she got another surprise, she felt something large being rammed into her ass as well, in her head she was screaming but couldn’t hear anything, in fact she hasn’t heard anything from anyone in the room, she just felt them shoving objects inside her deeper than she thought possible. After what seemed to be many hours it stopped as fast as it started. She remembers a tremendous pain in her vagina, one of them kicked her so hard in the vagina that she blacked out cold. She woke up completely dressed sitting in a what appeared to be a little diner, a strange place she wasn’t familiar with, it smelled like old grease and burnt food. She flagged down a waitress who explained that she was given $100 to keep an eye on her and help her when she woke up because she had taken some drugs and couldn’t handle it. She remembers thinking if she had taken drugs or was she just drugged. The waitress informed her what day it was and what time it was, she had lost 4 days and 17 hours since the moment she entered that hotel room. She was very nauseous and in a considerable amount of pain, she remembers smelling like dog piss. She got up and went into the rest room where she saw her face for the first time, her make up was a wreck, her hair was everywhere, and she had a bruise going all around her neck.
She borrowed money for the pay phone to call her mom. She wouldn’t pick up probably because she didn’t know the number, she didn’t bother leaving a voicemail simply because her mom never learned how to listen to them. So here she was, the waitress explained she was in La Marque Texas which is a fucking long way from Springbrook Wisconsin. The waitress told her it was about 1500 miles between the two places. She just wanted to know why she was here and why so many days passed by. She needed to know what the hell happened. She was pretty sure she needed to go to the hospital and the police department. The waitress gave her a ride to the hospital where Ariel was interagated as is she had committed some kind of crime. The hospital staff contacted the local police department who paid her a visit in the hospital. She was arrested for prostitution after a short interview. After drug tests were ran she was found to be positive for heroin and considered still under the influence. She was placed into a holding cell with other adults, a judgement call she thinks the officers made because she looks older than she is and had no identification at all to prove who she was. Of course, never being to jail before her fingerprints weren’t in the system, so they held her to see the judge in 2 days. The judge considered everything Ariel had to say to be absolute bullshit. The judge, however, did get ahold of Ariel’s mother who sent all the proper documentation for review. Ariel was sentenced to 26 months in juvenile detention. She was released after 20 months since the entire time she was a model student and inmate.
On the day of her release she called her mom to figure out what to do from here. Her mom, who was told stories of Ariel’s behavior with the boys and how she ran away to Texas to get away from her bitch of a mom. None of it was true, but all of it was believed. At that point she just gave up, everything she was looking forward to was just ripped away from her because her mom basically told her to go to hell, don’t come back because this isn’t your home any more, she was told that her life no longer existed in that family. After getting a space to sleep at the women’s center in Houston and a hot meal, she said she spent allot of time thinking about where she was going to go, where was she going to live, how was she going to live. The first night in the women’s shelter she locked herself in a stall in the rest room staring at a rusty razor blade she found in the janitor’s closet. After some time considering her options she just dropped the razor, got her jacket and shoes, and walked out of the shelter, never looking back. She never wanted to go back, that was not who she was, eventhough she no longer knew who she was.
After a few weeks living on the street, sleeping and eating here and there, getting by with what she had, she found herself at a new all time low. She seduced a man coming out of a bar who had been drinking, she convinced him to give her a ride and some money for the blow job of a lifetime. Blowjob of a lifetime, how about this was going to be the first blowjob she has ever given, it would be the first time she would ever have a man’s dick in her mouth. When it came time for the deed she unzipped his pants and this monster stared back at her. She made the decision right then and right there that shit was not about to happen. So, she began kissing it while she slid her hand into her pocket where she quietly removed a box-cutter. In a flash of adrenalin she had the knife to his package while she instructed him to give her all of his cash. Playfully she told him to go ahead and report this to the police and be sure to not leave out she was a minor. She got out of the car and disappeared into the woods at the edge of the park. When she figured nobody was coming and she was safe she wanted to see how much money she just robbed the guy for, not bad she thought, $3800. He must have had either big hooker plans or big strip club plans. Well, not now, now he is on his way home, to his wife most likely. After the adrenalin because to level off she decided she was going to use the money to clean up, get some clothes, get a job, and get a place to live. The following day she was shopping, with the intentions of making a purchase, for some clothes. The women in the store were less than helpful so she fell on to old habits and helped herself to a few picks of her own. She had done it a hundred times, why would this be different. She did get her hair done, she did buy some make up, and she did buy some new shoes. She says it felt good to pay cash for things, even if it was some jack-ass’s cash.
She bounced around jobs here and there, working in bars mostly because she found the sluttier she dressed the bigger the tips were. Eventually she found herself applying to waitress at Club X where she ended up getting full time employment, healthcare benefits, and so forth. She was very happy she just turned 18 because that would have been a deal breaker. She made a decent amount of money between her hourly pay and tips the first year, she recalls it was just shy of $50K. She says she remembered the strippers raking in 5-7 times that amount of money and really wanted a piece of that action. She arranged everything with the recruiter and the owner and she began stripping part time and waitressing part time. Eventually she became a full time stripper making serious cash. for the next 4 years she kept her life simple, driving a beater car, living in a one room apartment with no extras, and cooking at home as much as possible. Shortly before she turned 24 she remembers looking at her bank statement, something she usually avoided and didn’t pay attention to. She just made the cash deposits twice a week and went on about her day. But, on that day, she saw something that made her think pretty hard about what she was doing for a living and wanted to make a few changes. I was nosey and I did ask her what the number was, she replied $927K and some change. Yes, that is well over $300K a year for those of y’all doing the math in your heads. She decided that day that it was time to retire from being a stripper, time to hang-up her rhinestone garter belts, and time to find someplace new to live, somewhere with white beaches like in the magazines, with crystal blue water, and nothing or nobody for miles around. She bought herself a one-way ticket to a place she failed to disclose to me, she finished talking to me, finished her drink, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and hit that stage for the final time at Club X. I didn’t even see her slip out later. I hope she followed her dreams and found what she was looking for, she seemed like a good kid.
As a result, you will be unable to create or sign We the People petitions. Once government funding has been restored, We the People will be re-enabled. Petitions that were open as of October 1, 2013 will have their deadlines extended.
Updates regarding government operating status and resumption of normal operations can be found at USA.GOV.
That above statement is actually from the https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/ page which re-directs you to http://www.whitehouse.gov/we-the-people-temporarily-disabled page. How do I know this? I was actually looking for a specific petition for something I was going to attempt to write which I felt worth sharing. That story to come here in the very near future. I just thought I would share this information as I found it kind of entertaining with this partial government shutdown and all. This crap just amazes me. Why not shut down Whitehouse webpages. I bet the Whitehouse still has WiFi though, just a thought.