world observations

Animal Theft Via Craigslist

Originally posted here, written by me.

http://thepetdoctormb.com/blog/?p=1165

The world as we know it today is filled with many different kinds of people. Not all of them are good I’m afraid. You may encounter these “bad” people even if you are doing something positive in this world. Just met with a client that went through a terrifying ordeal with their pet who was lost for a little while. In the span of 30 minutes time the dog jumped the fence and was picked up by a good Samaritan in the neighborhood. They could find no identifying tags on the pet so they posted a “Lost dog” ad on Craigslist which as we all know is region specific. This was done in the good faith that maybe their owner would search and find the pet on there. Within a few hours a family comes to claim the pet. This dog is one sweet, loving, gorgeous dog that would go with anyone who beckoned him so naturally the good Samaritan didn’t know better when this family claimed him.

The people who claimed him weren’t his actual owners and they took the dog and did God only knows what to him. He wasn’t neutered so he was possibly going to be used as a stud dog, or possibly as a fighting dog. A sad truth, but people will claim lost dogs online for plenty of nefarious purposes. The actually owner of the dog found the craigslist ad and contacted the lady who found the pet and was horrified to find out that she has given away this woman’s dog. She eagerly gives up all info she had on the person who claimed the pet. The real owner called the police and gave all the info to them so they could retrieve her pet, only for the police to say that there is no way for them to prove that the pet belongs to the owner if they were to go. The owner promptly replied that she has the pet microchipped. They simply, and rudely responded “We don’t carry scanners on us to check.”

The owner was appalled at this fact, because they were going to do nothing to help her retrieve her pet. Luckily she had a friend who was a detective that took it upon themselves to investigate the case. As the pressure mounted against the thieves they arranged an exchange for the pet and the owner got their dog back. Normally this would be a happy ending, but we don’t live in a normal world. The pet was returned with puncture wounds and lacerations all over its body that cost the owner money to repair. Money that 9 times out of 10 a person isn’t prepared to spend at the drop of a hat. It’s shocking that a person can do all they can for their pet and have a microchip put in and still receive no help from the police. In this case the owner was reunited with their pet, but that isn’t always the outcome. some people lose their family member forever sadly.

If a case like this ever occurs to you and you have a microchip implanted in your dog and you call the cops for help, possibly request that animal control go out there with them or instead of them. Animal patrol officers carry scanners, or at least are more likely to than a police officer. Continue to press the issue, especially if you are basically spoon feeding the police all the information they need to retrieve your pet.

Here in Myrtle Beach we can call the Horry County Dispatch, 843-248-1520, and ask to speak with animal control.

Never sit back and think this could never happen to you, it very well could. We pray that it never does, but if it does Hopefully you can have a happy ending like in this case.

-Poetic Ice

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world observations

Robbery in the 1st Degree

Robbery in the first Degree. A term that I didn’t want to ever apply to my life. My wife and I had our home robbed by two despicable men when we left to go to the gym. It was a simple 30 minute workout that resulted in the theft of my Laptop that contained all my novels and my wife’s Xbox.

My parents just happened to be coming by to see us and caught the guy leaving our home. He gave a fake name most likely, “Bill”, and said he was checking to see if anyone was in the home because the door was open. He ran off before my father could question further or detain him. We’ve never felt so violated. My grandmother’s home that EVERYONE in my family at some point has lived in was violated, vandalized, and stolen from. My wife and I don’t even feel safe in here anymore. Every little sound we hear is a call to action now. Before this when I get up the first thing I reached for was my phone, now I reach for a dagger.

I’m filled with this newfound unfiltered rage. Its taken me on a roller coaster that at each up and down is a new violent act enters my mind. I can’t stand this new side of me. I was never a naive child, but that last wall of naivete has finally crumbled down into a dust of slight paranoia and rage. The laptop was a gift from my wife, the Xbox was a gift from my mother-in-law. The peace of mind was a gift from God and it was ripped from us forcefully by a pair of subhuman men That lacked the work ethic to earn their own things in this world. I have so much new rage and hate for a pair of people I’ve never even seen.

We are victims of burglary in the 1st degree, the only difference in that and home invasion is the fact that we weren’t home. I can only thank God that my wife wasn’t home alone…. Robbery is a crime punishable by law. It is the theft of personal items, peace if mind, and sanity eventually because it’s a violation. If you know of a crime report it. If you know anything about this crime report it to Conway Police Department in Conway South Carolina.

Report crimes, don’t commit them. That’s just my 2 cent on my world around me.

Poetic Ice, LeTavious Hemingway

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Original Stories

Sweet Justice

I wrote a Short Story about a killer with a hard on for justice in his own way… Tell me what you think

One Shot: Sweet Justice

 

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

4:00pm Friday

 

Like clockwork Elizabeth Jackson left her law office, Jackson and Associates, and headed for her Mercedes parked in the parking lot. She regarded the people around her as mere fodder as she achieved her dreams. Successfully achieving all her ambitions was the only thing that mattered to Elizabeth Jackson. Whether it was cutting someone off on the road to get somewhere on time, or cutting a deal with the biggest drug dealers in Horry County she would do it. All for her love of the mighty dollar. Her car cranked with a silent purr and she rushed out of the parking lot. I cranked up my Ford Pick-up and followed a few car lengths behind.

 

As usual she drives for forty-five minutes to go to Little River and pulls into a Super 8 hotel off Highway 17. It sits a little ways back from the highway, so I pulled into the Burger King that sat across from it. With binoculars in hand I watched the brunette Elizabeth Jackson pull a blonde wig out of her bag and adorn herself with it. I had no clue why she would cover her beautiful black hair. She covered up her beautiful green eyes with dark aviator sunglasses and got out of her car. She reached into her backseat and pulled out an oversized black trench coat to cover her body. Once a day before she made her journey to her beach house and husband Joseph, she would go to the Super 8 to have sex with her lover. I’ve identified her lover as Laylah Hartman, a black woman with curly light brown hair. She’s an accountant who is also married and has a five year old child. They met in a bar a few weeks ago and started this lesbian love fest. They come here daily to fuck like champions with sex toys galore before they go home and give their husbands bland unemotional sex.

 

I adjusted myself in my seat and focused the lens on my binoculars and found that today they have escalated things today. They greet each other outside with a big kiss, normal behavior for them, but today they decide to do lines of coke on the hood of the Mercedes. This was a new twist for them, but the levels of arousal have definitely gone up. Laylah began grouping Elizabeth’s breast from behind and guided her into their usual room, Room number 9. I ordered a whopper from the Burger King as I usually do when waiting for these two to finish and settled into the seat of my Ford. The thought of their meeting flashed into my head now. They meet at the bar that I work at, Mickey’s. Elizabeth came into the bar wearing her blonde wig and glasses that night. She had a form fitting red dress on and that is what caught Laylah’s attention. She was sitting on Bruce Kingston’s lap grinding her body against his erect cock as usual in the back of the bar. He noticed how enamored she was with the blond that was coming to see him for and decided to be graceful. “Go ahead baby, you can have her after we are done.” He said to her with a gleam in his eyes.

Elizabeth’s nipples became erect as she sat across from Laylah, was basically wearing a pink bathing suit with a white skirt. Bruce Kingston was for lack of a better word, a kingpin. He has moved more drugs into this city than any previous drug lord. He supplied the little black kids you see moving all the drugs and getting locked up. He is the cause of many of the drug related violence cases and overdoses. I fucking hated him, but he was making a living doing what he could with the supplies he had at hand. I’ll handle him indirectly. Once I’m done with the whore Elizabeth. Bruce pulled out a brief case filled with what I estimated to be a few hundred thousand dollars and began talking to the lawyer. He hired her as his personal lawyer and paid her off to side with him no matter what. This made his legal team complete. Working as a bartender here I’ve seen him pay off a Judge, the captain of the Narcotics division of the police force, and now a lawyer.

Elizabeth agreed without much thought once she saw the money on the table and she was dismissed so Laylah can do what she pleased with the money hungry wench. From there the taboo romance began between these two low life females. Once away that’s when Bruce turned his attentions to his bottle. His blue eyes looked like he stole the sky and encased them in two globes, but they had the tendency to look violent when he spoke to men like me. “Hey Johnny boy! Refresh my drink and be useful.” He ordered me. I scowled as I fixed him another Crown and Coke. I watched the two harpies dance around each other, and it made my blood boil knowing that they could support such criminal endeavors. The world should be rid of these two pathetic weak females, and Bruce should be behind bars.

Elizabeth exited the room, face red with passion and pleasure. She took her embroidered handkerchief and wiped her face and neck with it. With pep in her step she got into her car and drove off. I started to follow, but Laylah was breaking her traditional routine. She didn’t leave the room immediately, I turned my gaze back towards her and she was doing another line on the desk in the cheap room. Tonight is the end for her then, two months of watching these bitches fuck each other is too long. I put the truck in park and grabbed my bag out of the truck bed. I lowered my ball cap and ambled across the street. I made my way to Super 8 room number 9 and I walked in and closed the door. Laylah turned to me and regarded me with her brown eyes with awe and fear. The coke began to take effect and gave her an air of confidence and she licked her lips and spoke, “Look I’m not on the clock baby so if you want some ass you are going to get it from somewhere else.” I looked her up and down, analyzing her C cup breast and thick thighs, and I could see why she was seen as attractive. This was a fine specimen of black woman, physically, but every other aspect was worthy of the punishment I am going to give out.

“Honey, I don’t want a damn thing from someone who associates with Bruce Kingston.” I told her. Her eyes grew wide as her bosses name registered in her pathetic psyche. She quickly reached for her bag on the end table and I struck her across her temple with a closed fist. She went down hard on the bed, unconscious. Her brown skinned body lay before me and I grew erect from the thoughts of punishing her. I stripped her off her whore dress and ripped it to shreds. This was a pleasurable act in itself to unleash her voluptuous body to the world. I removed a black rope from my bag and tied her down to the bed. Once bound I bound her mouth, and began to slap her face. She showed no signs of regaining consciousness so I removed my jacket and loosened the collar on my shirt.

After I let her sleep for a few minutes and contemplated how to dispose of her. She began to come to and started whimpering and crying. But it’s too late for tears, “Far too late for tears whore.” I say to her in a deep voice. She shivers at the sound of my voice. I mount her warm flesh and press my crotch against hers as I put my face near hers. She smells of strawberries and was soft to the touch. I see why Bruce kept her around as his choice concubine. I grabbed her neck and began to squeeze ever so gently. She squirmed and I applied more pressure. Her brilliant shade of brown on her face slowly began to turn purple before I released her neck. Her breasts were begging to be claimed by me so I grabbed them with vigor. She groaned in pain as tears escaped her eyes. “Are you going to talk Laylah?” I asked her in a calming voice. She only continued to cry. There was nothing I hated more than the tears of a woman. The only thing worse was a woman who didn’t deserve the same rights as a good woman crying.

I began to stroke her tender thighs and work my way to her precious womanhood. She tensed up at my touch and I knew I had her attention now. “I’m going to ask again, are you going to talk Laylah?” I asked as I continued to circle my fingers around her clitoris. She nodded yes and I reached up and removed the gag from her mouth. She took a deep haggard breath before she spoke, “Why are you doing this?” She asked as the tears continued to roll. I placed my finger upon her luscious lips to quiet her. I wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled down upon her. “You don’t get to cry Laylah. You work for Bruce Kingston. He is a bad man, don’t you know that?” I asked her as I plunged two of my fingers knuckle deep into her quivering pussy. She tensed at the pain and yelped in unexpected surprise. Tears began to fall anew as she tried to squirm away from me. I reached down and pulled a crowbar from my bag and slammed it down next to her. She yelped in fear and stopped squirming. “Don’t make me use this on you, do you understand me?” I ordered. She nodded again became very still. “Now young lady, do you remember me from the bar? Your boss liked to call me Johnny Boy.”  I asked her. Her eyes grew wide with realization now.

“Johnny Boy why the fuck are you doing this?” She screamed at me. I pulled a knife out of the bag and made a small incision on her right thigh. She screamed as the searing pain took its effect. “Now you see that I have no time for games. Tell me, when is Bruce getting his next big shipment?” I demanded. She seemed to change once I mentioned Bruce’s business. Her eyes grew determined and she reared up her head and spat on me. For a second I was too shocked at the change to react. Once my mind wrapped around the situation and I came to, my fist was pounding her face for the third time and she was bleeding from her lower lip. She was crying out for help loudly between my strikes, and I eventually gagged her again.

“So, that is what he trained his hoes to do? Disrespect men and themselves by spitting on people. You sick bitch I don’t know where your mouth has been and you dare spit on me?” I back hand slapped her and stood up, as she squirmed around in agony. I spotted her cell phone on the table and let a smile creep across my face. “You know, I’ve seen you Laylah. You live on your phone. Whether you are scheduling a whore call from Elizabeth, or doing your boss’s bidding you put it in your phone. That makes you expendable since I have that.” I say to her as I take my pants off. My erect penis stands proud once free and I mount the bed again. She tries to get away from me, but I place the blade on her stomach and trace a line down the middle cutting her superficially. She let out a high pitched whine and I plunged my penis into her. She tried to fight it as I pumped her harder each time. The tears kept falling and I’ve had enough. I take the crowbar lying beside her and strike her across the head. Her body grew still then she released her final breath and I came within her.

I looked down on her with disdain and picked up her phone from the table. After a few minutes of playing with the iPhone I found the schedule for major drug deals tying Bruce to a few Latino drug cartels that were starting to make some noise in the area. No doubt just another front where those involved don’t even realize they are just around to take attention off of him. “Perfect. Thank you for doing a good job Laylah.” I say to her as I began to wrap her up in the bed sheets. Once bundled I stuffed her into a sleeping bag and left the room to find a house keeping cart. I raided it for new sheets and came back to make the bed. The phone began to vibrate in my pocket as I left the room again to pull up my truck. I didn’t pay it any attention as I focused on clean up. The sun was long gone, I didn’t realize how long I’d been beating that bitch. Once it was clear I stuffed her into the bed of my truck and covered it up. With a quick wipe down of the room I gathered my things and left.

I pulled back onto highway 17 and headed back towards Myrtle Beach. I exited the main road and took a path towards the Intracoastal Waterway. I took some of the lord’s natural stones and loaded the sleeping bag up with them. Once she was heavy enough I tossed her into the dark waters below to become shrimp bait. Finally, I inspected the whore’s phone to see that she got a few messages from Bruce about making a few deals in the next few days that she needs to add to the schedule. I had to give it to the man, he was always busy but it was time to stop him.

I pulled out my own cell and called up another patron of the bar, officer Don Marks. He was a ten year veteran of the force and shared his deep hate for Bruce Kingston. His was because Bruce killed his kid in a car accident, and the judge just let him off the hook with a minimal fine, or saying that it was just an accident or something. I didn’t read too much into it. I didn’t really care, I just knew I had someone I could use for my own agendas. I heard him clear his throat along with the distinctive knocking of ice against a glass before he spoke. He was probably having his favorite drink, Hennessy Black on the rocks.

“Marks, make it worth my time Bartender.” He said in a deep raspy voice. I laughed a bit to myself as I watched the whore sink, “How does taking down Bruce Kingston down sound to you?” He coughed again before speaking, “You are bullshitting me aren’t you? What do you have?” He asked in a demanding voice. I knew I had him interested now, and that was all I wanted so he could do his job.

“I’m forwarding you his schedule for the next month. That should be sufficient enough to set up a sting right?” I say starting to grow excited now. My cock started to fight against my denim as I thought of this narcotic dealing fuck being behind bars. “… Bartender, Bartender are you there?” He asked me. I hadn’t realized I was in my own world thinking about taking care of these people who think they are without fault. I snap out of the thoughts and spoke “Yes, I’m sending it now. Do your job.” I say before hanging up. I forward the entire schedule to him and he simply replied, thanks. I cranked up my truck and headed back for highway 17. The iPhone began to vibrate again, a text message from Elizabeth. She simply sent, “I’m home alone for the next three days, come FUCK me now!” My cock grew hard again at the thought of punishing the false blond lawyer. I replied, “I’m coming for you,” with a smile on my face. As I headed for the Grande Dunes where she lived she sent Laylah a picture of her masturbating on her bed. Soon enough I’ll punish her too.

Crossing over into the Grande Dunes community was like headed to the Hollywood of Myrtle Beach. This place looked like it couldn’t be touched by dirt or the other members of this city. You had to be rich to even visit this place. I hated it here, but it was the perfect place for a criminal lawyer to live her lavish life. Her home’s front yard was beach front property, and the home stood about four floors high. I pulled up behind the home on the street access side studied the home as I’ve been doing for a while now. She usually spent her time on the top floor, the floor containing her master bedroom and in home office. When home she usually goes through law books and files to prepare for her next day’s case. The relations between her and her husband have become farther and farther apart since she met Laylah. The idiot was so caught up in her beauty he didn’t even realize there was another person ripping up his home life.

I sat outside for a while to case the place and Elizabeth was starting to become impatient. She sent multiple pictures of pleasuring herself to Laylah’s phone and kept asking where she was. I would only reply “I was on the way.” Her patients began to wear thin as she exited her home and paced around on her back porch. Even in the moonlight I could see she was wearing nothing but a blue silk robe as she paced around barefoot with a drink in her hand. She would periodically pick up her phone and scan for new messages from Laylah only to become disappointed again. I exited my truck and snuck onto her property now. I snuck around the side of her home and hid near the porch where she paced flaunting her erect nipples. She called Laylah’s phone that I’ve long since turned off and was sent straight to voicemail.

“Dammit Laylah if you didn’t want to see me then fucking say so! Don’t just lead a girl on when she’s wearing nothing but the suit God gave her and drinking!” she fussed as she walked inside her home. I mounted the porch and rushed in behind her. “She wasn’t leading you on, Elizabeth.” I say to her calmly. The look on her face as she turned around almost brought me to a state of orgasmic bliss. She stumbled backwards over her couch and hit the ground with a healthy thud. She scrambled to a standing position and I sprang forward before she could run. She screamed before I tossed her back over the couch. “Shut the fuck up, no one likes a screamer Elizabeth.” I taunted as I reached down and yanked her blond wig off of her head. She was more beautiful as a black haired woman, and I was going to have fun tonight.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” She yelled in fear as she struggled to get up. I took my time walking around the couch to get a full frontal view of the nude woman. My cock was telling me to punish her, but my heart wants her to know full well why she’s suffering. The rich never know how they are doing wrong, but today she will learn. I tower over her and smile before speaking, “I’m the man who is going to punish you just like I punished Laylah.” Her eyes grew wide and filled with terror. Unexpectedly she kicked me in the thigh and scrambled to her feet to run. I laughed at the minor pain in my leg and chased her up her stairs. “You should have run when you met Bruce Kingston! You should have run from Laylah instead of fucking her so much. You should have done your job as a lawyer and not fallen into the criminal element!” I saw bounding up the stairs.  I followed her likely path to her bedroom and kicked in the door.

A gunshot rang out and a hole was in the wall next to my head. I started shaking my head with a smile as I stared at the naked lawyer holding a 357 Magnum in hand and trembling. “You’ve got to learn to fire that thing if you are going to have a firearm in the home.” She let off another round and it was closer to its mark. Before she could perfect her aim I tackled her to the ground. “Get off of me! Why are you doing this?” She yelled out as she struggled under me. Her warm naked body felt so good under my own. My cock screamed to ravage her, but my ears pleaded to shut her up. I slammed my hand over her mouth and pressed against her skull to help me stand up. She groaned in pain and tried to kick again. I caught her foot and drug her across the floor and out of the room. She screamed in protest as we headed for the stairway. I grabbed her neck and hoisted her up over the top stair and kissed her tenderly. With my free hand I explored her womanhood, it was just as tender as I imagined it would be.

She cried out as the feeling of a man’s finger entered her body. I licked her tears as I squeezed her neck tighter. She began to cough and turn the most wonderful shade of red. “I know you wonder why this is happening, but it’s simple really. You shouldn’t aid a drug dealer simply because he throws cash at you. You shouldn’t cheat on your husband with a lesbian prostitute either. In fact bitches like you shouldn’t live.” I say before I toss her down the stairs. She flew backwards a few feet before hitting the stairs and rolling backwards. Her head slammed into the landing then she tumbled down the other flight of stairs. I bound down after her and laid her flat on her back. She screamed out as the pain shook her body. Patting her face gently and beckoning her to be quiet I leaned down to whisper, “Don’t worry, you should see Laylah soon you bitch.”

Elizabeth tried to push me off of her, but she lacked the strength. I started part her thighs and she cried out “I can pay you! I’ll pay you to stop this!” I laughed and unsheathed my throbbing cock and thrust it into her. She cried out in pain and I started to fuck her good and hard on her hardwood floors. She kept pleading for me to stop, but I wasn’t done yet. I wrapped my hands around her neck and told her, “This will help you atone for all the violence and death you have caused by aiding a drug dealer. Take this with dignity.” I saw as I start to crush her trachea in hand. She turned damn purple as she gagged for air. I stated fucking her harder until I fired my essence deep within her. This was justice. Sweet justice as her heart took its final beat and she the twisted dark soul left her eyes.

I loaded her up in her husband’s boat and hitched it to my truck. Once I took it to the local dock I took her a few miles offshore and dumped her where she belong. I took the boat back and left the home a distant memory. The next day I was back at Mickey’s serving drinks to my patrons. Plenty of newcomers with the holidays coming up soon and plenty of possible criminals. But one criminal in particular was apprehended after he attempted to make a deal at the docks by Officer Marks. I guess no one will be calling me “Johnny Boy” anymore.

My shift was going well until I saw an older white gentleman slap his female friend and pour his beer on her yelling “I told you that you were going to fuck him and anyone else I bring to you bitch. You have a debt to pay.” He then turned to me and slammed the empty bottle on the table, “Hey Mac, when am I getting another damn beer!?” I fished another bottle from the cooler and a smile crept onto my face, “Don’t worry man. You are next.”

 

END

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Poetry, world observations

Violence

Violence
Running rampant in our world/
Torturing our community/
Killing our people/
Protected under the law/
America’s frozen heart will never thaw/
Zimmerman and Dunn
“Stood Their ground” and won/
Martin and Davis bled out away from parents, never again to see the sun/
Irony never hit harder in the sunshine state/
Its apparent if you own a gun you control fate/
The fates of unarmed children/
Honestly does that make you a hero then?/
A hoodie, skittles, music, and tea…/
Did you know they were your life’s fee?/
Martin and Davis and so many others/
God, do you hear all of the weeping fathers and mothers?/
Brothers and sisters?
All because of two unforgiving misters?
Zimmerman and Dunn
let me ask do you feel our shun?
Or rage, hate fear, disgust, confusion?
At the fact that you are afforded rights, and you abused them?
Remorse?
Regret?
Do you feel them?
Your psychological wounds, time may never heal them/
This mental struggle is yours and yours alone/
Because these boys can never go home/
You stood you ground in Florida, you know your rights.
But would there be a ground to stand on if they were whites?
Or girls
Muslim or atheist?
Or in another country?
In a dictatorship or empire?/
A democracy allows you to vote on whats murder or not./
And votes can always be bought!/
As long as I pay my taxes and feel threatened without proof I can decide who gets shot/
If you can’t see the wrong in this, you’re blind/
What warped propaganda has twisted your mind?/
Your another zimmerman and Dunn waiting to happen/
And when it does your like minded clan will be clapping/
We as humans apparently need something to save us/
Before there is another Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis.

R.I.P. Young men, guide us from the other side and greet us with arms opened wide my brothers, not because of race, because of our humanity. A fact forgotten by many.

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