Police Officers given new list of ultimatums

AMEN!!! I've been told for FIFTEEN DAMN YEARS that the reason I'm getting ZERO, ZERO, ZERO and 2% for a raise AND paying 5 times more for my health insurance is BECAUSE I HAVE A TAKE HOME CAR!!!!!! I was TOLD 'the take home car is worth $5,000 dollars' ...and 'there's no money in the budget' so many times I could puke. We took the SHAFT -hard- for decades in order to keep the take home cars. Oh, I remember fondly about 12 years ago when we were told by poor little Jerry that the city had no money for the Officers to get a raise, but- you guessed it 'you get to keep those snazzy cars!' ...so we took ZERO for three years. 2 WEEKS after we signed the contract, Jerry 'found' 24 MILLION dollars of taxpayer money to GIVE to the developers to start Slugger Field construction.

Next contract THIEF JERRY will have to just be honest (ha!) and say "I hate you and that's why you're not gettiing a raise!"

Hey Daran Hodges thanks for taking the bullets.

You were one of the best of Park Hill. For those of you that cannot get off the Phil Williams crack pipe...get over it. Be police, protect and serve, We will get through this. Park the damn things, John Butts.

PS Troy did you read or just give it back to placate emotions?

PSS Those damn Peagus Pins irritate me...

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

But make allowance for their doubting too,

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,

If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much,

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

by Rudyard Kipling