These original Kirt's Cogitations™ may be reproduced (no more than 5, please) provided proper credit is given to me, Kirt Blattenberger.

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   Cog·i·ta·tion [koj-i-tey'-shun] – noun: Concerted thought or reflection; meditation; contemplation.
   Kirt [kert] – proper noun: RF Cafe webmaster.

 

These Aren't My Pants

"These aren't my pants."

That's the most common excuse heard by police officers across the country - no kidding. It is the response given by people who, when they are patted down by police, are found to have a gun, drugs, stolen goods, or something similar in their pants. Here's a true story. A policeman asked a suspect, "Do you have drugs or a weapon on your person?" "No, sir," was the predictable reply. The officer patted down the guy and found a few packets of cocaine in his jacket. The guy was furious. He stripped off his jacket and threw it on the ground in disgust while claiming, "This isn't my jacket. I borrowed it from my cousin. I can't believe that guy, leaving drugs in his jacket and lending it to me." The officer then found a few more packets of cocaine in the guy's shirt pockets. "And these would be a surprise to you as well, I suppose?" "Yes, I don't believe this. This isn't my shirt. It's my brother's," he said as he stripped off the shirt and threw it on the ground, too. The cop continued the pat down on the man's only remaining outer garment - his pants - and guess what? He found a small pistol and several packets of cocaine. "These aren't my pants, either! They belong to my buddy. I can't believe that they would do this to me!" He proceeded to strip off his pant and throw them on the ground in disgust. Well, after that the only thing left was his boxer shorts, so the officer figured he'd better terminate the search.

This lengthy, but very humorous account was taken from the book "These Aren't My Pants," by Daniel Butler and Alan Ray. It's worth reading!