The cold sad truth of modern life is that it is easier to break people out of prison than to get them to leave their homes. The problem however is not getting out of the jailhouse – but getting in there in the first place. As I sifted through my mail recently I opened a letter from the local court. The letter was to inform me of a warrant for my arrest and to alert me that I could turn myself in at MY CONVENIENCE!

“Hello (Name of felon). We need your help! The recent economic downturn has left us without the manpower needed to personally handcuff you for (Type of infraction). In order to avoid public embarrassment, please report to (Address of police station) between (Hours of operation) with cash or money order for (Amount of bail).
Thanks!
(Name of woman with really long fake nails)

Let me get this straight, I’m wanted by the law, but not enough to climb a flight of stairs? Why don’t you just send me a Facebook invitation? It’s closing time at the City Hall saloon and I’m a last call outlaw. If you can’t cram my arrest into your crazy schedule… farm it out the Post Office. My slackjaw mail carrier can find their way here (Who do think “served” my warrant?) so issue a sidearm heater to Dr Land Spam. With the hard times in the letter business they should jump at the chance for a little overtime.

For the record, this was over a traffic ticket and honestly; to be on the po-po hit list for something like this is embarrassing. However as a fugitive I demand to be treated properly. Send your best piker goons to drag me out of here! Do I want to go to jail? No. And I won’t for this. So why do I want this treatment? For all the tight shit that comes along with it. You see- if the police drag you out of your building, your landlord tends to wait for you to produce the monthly rent instead of potentially agitating you by knocking on your door. Any items that have been borrowed from you come back that week. You are free to use as many forbidden swear words and racial/ethnic slurs, as you like with out having to whisper or look around first. And most importantly, when you tell everyone in your neighborhood that you were carted out of there for a traffic ticket, they A) don’t believe you and B) get up to date with any traffic infractions they have outstanding.

They don’t really want ME. They want my money. I learned this when I was cited for hanging posters for a show of mine. I was fined while no one bothered the people that put up the posters of their missing pets. So what I did was rounded up enough animals until I collected enough ransom/reward money for Fluffy and Patches to keep the law from breathing down my neck.