Police report ala SmokinGun
http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0504051_ann_coulter_1.html
MAY 5--Months after members of "Al Pieda" disrupted a campus speech by Ann Coulter, another appearance by the controversial conservative commentator has been disrupted by a protester. During a speech last night at the University of Texas in Austin, a 19-year-old UT student was busted after asking Coulter a lewd question, which he followed up with equally inappropriate hand gestures, according to the below police affidavit. The student, Ajai Raj, was arrested by campus police and hit with a misdemeanor disorderly conduct charge. The police affidavit notes that Coulter's lecture was attended by "several children under the age of ten," which probably made them particularly sensitive when Raj queried Coulter about the sexual proclivities of certain right-leaning men. (1 page)
http://www.partycampus.com/article.php?id=231
Busted
By: Ajai Raj 04.18.2005
Let me begin by saying I had a pretty restful spring break. Nothing exciting- funds were low all around, and no one I knew could afford a road trip, so I went back home, hung around my house wearing boxers and aviator sunglasses, and smoked joints in the backyard. I hung out with a few old friends, and come Friday night, I headed back to Austin where I looked forward to a night of mid-grade revelry and sleeping in my dorm bed.
The Pigfucking Establishment had other plans. My roommate and I were awakened at 3 A.M. by two grinning Austin Police Department officers and a greasy-haired fat f*ck of an RA who gets his jollies by hanging around with his thumb in his ass until he smells marijuana so he can inform the Justice League in exchange for a free raffle ticket. No shit— as the cops cuffed me for having an ounce of grass, this f*cker got a chance to win a free microwave. Or to suck off a sheriff, as far as I know or care.
I would go on at length about the bust, but let’s suffice it to say that I was too tired to think, and thinking is essential to prevent arrest. This will not happen again. On my way out, I passed by my friends Jeff and Nick. This proved fortunate down the line.
I was led in handcuffs into a waiting room full of crazy yelling degenerates, wife beaters, whores, thieves, and contemptible crying cunts whose lives were obviously over because they had been led to a police station. Over the next several hours, my clothes were taken from me and replaced with black-and-white striped pajamas, my balls were fondled by leering criminals posing as representatives of justice, and I got the opportunity to sleep in awkward positions in several exciting locales. I was told I would wait for a short while to move on to the next stage of the process, and then made to sit around for hours while eavesdropping on conversations about armed robberies and vehicular assaults.
When me and the motley members of my cell block were led in front of a judge, I learned that, according to our “justice” system, a straight-A college kid holding a bag of weed is as bad a criminal as a guy who beats his wife and kid. I learned that in Texas, a cop can decide to arrest you for no reason at all and you can sit in jail for 72 hours before you’re even charged with a crime. I learned that, in Travis County jail at least, you get as many phone calls as you like—as long as you’re not calling a cell phone or a landline outside of Travis county. And you can call any one of a number of bail bondsmen to help you out with your $1500 bail, except that half the numbers don’t work and the other half will be answered by assholes who won’t help out anyone under 21. I learned that every single cop in this God-forsaken county thinks he’s the King of Sh*t Mountain, and that they missed their chance to be comedic wunderkinds. It takes a real man to make fun of a guy who’s in a futile situation and has nothing to do but take your shit. Why not push over a guy with crutches and have a real laugh riot?
So, having nothing on my hands but my dignity and a jail cell, I spent the next ten hours or so catching fitful sleep full of decidedly unpleasant dreams. I never really got around to worrying about my situation. I had plenty of reason to—for starters, I had a paper due Monday that I’d yet to begin, and if I get a drug conviction—whoops!—there goes my financial aid. My waking hours were filled with musings about Jeff and Nick busting me out of this place, guns blazing. Knowing them, I knew they’d do something, but I didn’t know what. My hands were tied, so I waited.
Round 7 P.M., the officer in charge—a man with lofty notions about the “free world” and a penchant for passing out baloney sandwiches like nobody’s business—knocked on my door.
“Raj!” he said. “There’s someone here to see you!”
I went out to one of the meeting rooms, where a man who looked like Al Borland from “Home Improvement” was sitting on the other side of a plastic window.
“Ajai?”
“That’s me.”
“Jeff and Nick sent me. I’m Thad Thomason, your attorney.”
Success!
My spirits perked up in a hurry. To make an already abbreviated story even more so, my attorney says he can get the charges dismissed. The law is sticking all kinds of fingers in my assh*le right now, but with a few savvy business deals, I can plow through this shit and come out smelling like roses. Ironic, really—to get out of this drug charge, I’m forced to arrange bigger drug deals than I ever intended to. C’est la vie, non?
To quote the late, great John Lennon, life is what happens while you’re busy making plans. While we’re at it, I do indeed get by with a little help from my friends.
-Ajai out