Call me old fashioned. Some asshole I’m taking to jail does not deserve my respect. Reciprocal courtesy but not respect. I have arrested trans whatever’s. If George wanted to be called Fifi then he was, right up until the time the cooperation stopped. I may have even called George, darling, dear and sweetie but never she. When it came time for George to get jugged, he, she or it got a cell alone. That may have been a luxury. Where I worked there was always room at the inn. Read the entry from Moonbattery.
According to liberal wackos there are multiple genders 57 at last count, or maybe that’s Ketchup. It’s all so confusing. According to San Diego policy officers must use the accused preferred pronoun. What’s a cop to do if the turd decides to run through all 57 varieties during the ride and subsequent booking process? That would never happen.
Oh, yeah? Here’s this gem from Howie Carr.
Welcome to Massachusetts! Been there done that. Got the T-shirt.
Let’s start with a report from a local police department involving a transgender perp. Officially it can’t be released because it involves, you guessed it, a domestic dispute. The accused — X — was born female but now identifies as male.
Howie Carr, The Howie Carr Show, May30, 2021
So under the new woke police guidelines, even after being arrested X has a choice about a) who searches X, and b) who X gets to be incarcerated with.
This, directly from the report, with only the name changed: “(X) was asked who X wanted to be searched by and stated X wanted female officers to conduct the search. X was searched by two female officers … Prior to being brought to (lockup where X was booked) X stated X would like to be placed with male prisoners.
“After the booking process was complete X opted to be transported to (different police station) to be placed with other female prisoners.”
So in this city, arrested transgender people now have the option to choose which jail they wish to be locked up in. And they have the right to change their minds.
I am not unsympathetic to transvestites. In fact, I was a fashion consultant to a transvestite whore. After untangling a disturbance, regarding payment, between the whore a trick I offered the whore a ride out of town. During the trip I complimented the tranny on the “rack” on display. The tranny preened and gave those puppies a shake. I concluded by saying that the tranny possessed the second best rack I’d ever seen on a tranny.
The tranny pouted and silence ensued. It wouldn’t last, as I knew it wouldn’t. The tranny had to know. “What was the best?” the tranny asked.
“Water balloons” I replied. “They have a shape and jiggle that are more natural than sweat sox.”
The tranny nodded. I could see that the seed was planted.
About a week later, I had occasion to arrest the very same tranny. What did I find during the search of the tranny? Water balloons.
