House just got SWAT raided. Cops fail.

Bolded for the lazy, cause you know I'm lazy too.

The police opened my front door. Didn't knock, didn't say anything, just opened my front fucking door and started to walk in, while I was watching TV on the fucking couch. My friend was outside talking on the phone, and my room mate was out with friends.

The first officer that I saw was a woman, about 45 years old, and 5 feet tall, wearing a bulletproof vest. There was a swat team behind her. Literally. She used her wrinkly old fucking cunt hand to (attempt) to push me out of the way, while I stood there like an oak tree facing a slight breeze. I asked her if she had a warrant, and she attempted to push me aside again, saying nothing, only this time the officer behind her pointed his weapon at my face.

Ok, you win, I'll move.

So they walk into my living room, and only then at this point exclaim that they have a warrant. I, being the only person in the house at the time, ask her what exactly the fuck is going on. She asks me if I know (my room mate) and I tell her yes, and that he isn't in at the moment. She refuses after several requests to let me see the warrant, and they pat me down while I am standing in my own living room.

All 10 or so officers search the place. They managed to avoid seeing everything that was in my room (more on this later) and they all collaborated in the living room again, where I was standing, hands on head, facing the wall of my own fucking home.

Officer McCunty (the previously mentioned least-intimidating SWAT member ever) demanded 20 different pieces of information from me in 20 seconds. I answer the questions truthfully the best I could. Most of the questions were about the whereabouts of my room mate, which I did not know. I offered to call him, and they let me do so.

I sat on the couch, confused as a motherfucker, with my friend who was outside on the phone earlier, who they had brought inside (what if I didn't know that guy? he was practically next door at the time). The officers searched the house a second time, and this time, officer McCunty "found my stash", as she put it. I had my bong, bubbler, grinder, scale, and a celophane wrapper with some seeds and stems in it sitting on top of my desk, in plain sight. Good detective work, bitch.

A narcotics specialist was called and, once arriving, took me into my room, and asked me if there was anything else in the room, besides the obvious, that was illegal. I told him there was a tin in the closet (which was just sitting on a shelf in there, you can see it immediatley after opening the closet) that probably had some para in it. It had my crappy backup scale in it, once they searched it.

They tore my room apart. They threw the mattresses off of my bed, rummaged through my dirty clothes hamper, went through things I had in storage containers, and basically just trashed the place.

Because I was "honest" with the narcotics officer, he didn't take me to jail. He wrote me a citation:



You probably can't read it, but it says:

(they butchered the word paraphernalia, btw.)

Did possess less than 28 grams of marijuana.
Did possess drug parafinalia:
2 pipes
2 scales


After that, the narco thanked me for being calm and honest, and explained that because of that they aren't arresting me, just giving me a citation, and they slowly filtered out of the house with my room mate, who went to the station to fill out a restraining order and whatnot against the stupid motherfucker who accused him of rape. (LOL)

When he got back he had a copy of the warrant with him... it said ON THE WARRANT that the accuser was MEDICALLY DIAGNOSED with having the MENTALITY OF A 13 YEAR OLD. It's hilarious... i was home when my room mate (a 230 pound, muscular black man) was aparently raping a 150lb, half-white half-black motherfucker less than 20 feet away from me, who, according to the statement he filed, was screaming and yelling the entire time. The statement also mentioned that my room mate drank a 5th of crown royal (he had 1 glass, the rest is still in the freezer) in an hour WHILE HE WAS RAPING HIM.

My room mate then "allowed him to leave" (he actually drove him home). The warrant didn't have my room mates correct name (not a typo, a complete different first name) on it, and the police also would not show me the warrant, as they were searching MY OWN HOME, IN WHICH I LIVE IN. I had to get a copy from my room mate when he got home.

So, basically, not only did the police suck really bad at paperwork, but they also didn't find the plants growing in my attic. Suck it, narcotics officers.

I'm wondering how all of these blatant errors on the city's side of things will effect my trail, but I don't give a shit, they didn't find my motherfucking babies

Of course, after a scare like this, I have already killed them (they were only 9 days old) and cleaned the evidence up, but whatever.

They also left evidence bags laying around everywhere. I'm keeping a few of these for something... I don't know what yet, but I'm sure it will be awesome:



So yeah, before I just had no weed. Now I have no weed, nothing to smoke weed out of, not scales or grinders, and a court date.

Better fuckin' bet if we find that little fucker, there will be hell to pay. He knew nothing about my smoking habits, but I don't give a damn, you still don't pull pussy ass shit like that on anyone.