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From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book

What Light Pole?

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon on September 5, 1999. The weather was decent and I had the doors on my trailer and shop open. I had my truck parked half way out of the garage door of my shop. The system on my truck was partially elevated. I had my ____ ____ adapter tack welded together and most of the way done.
       Suddenly a cop car pulls up into my drive way. Out steps a guy who appeared to be about fifty years old with graying hair. He (No. 81017) said he was Deputy Kahler, an investigator for the Pierce County Sheriff’s department. He said there had been a hit and run incident earlier in the day and my vehicle fit the description. He was quick to try to put works into my mouth with the interrogation style questioning.
       Another squad car pulled into my drive way. Out stepped a black man. He didn't say anything, but he just stood around as if they expected some trouble from me.
       I denied knowing anything about the alleged incident and the investigator asked for my drivers’ license and proof of insurance. I handed him my drivers’ license and said that I had emptied my truck out and the paper work was either on my work bench or on the floor next to my truck. Deputy Kahler became pushy and insisted not to mess around with him. I said, "Just a second, I've got it somewhere around here."
       Kahler wasn't about to let me find the paperwork I was looking for. As I tried to step around the front of my truck he followed me with his comrade right behind him at the right front corner of my truck. Kahler said, "I've had enough of you!" He grabbed his walkie talkie and called for backup, then slapped my coffee cup out of my hand and slammed my head down in the hood of my truck. I would have been even more pissed off if I would have had a perfectly strait hood on my truck. For sure he would have dented the hell out of it, but fortunately the dents made it a bit softer on my face as it slammed into it. He slapped a pair of hand cuffs on me and shoved me into the back of his partner's squad car. As I sat in the back of the squad car two or more squad cars arrived one after another. There was a blond fat one who said, "I had to come by, I figured he might put us in his book," as he walked over to check out my T___________ parked on the west side of my yard where I had just used my T___________ as a frame pulling machine for pulling out the core support on my truck so the radiator hose wouldn’t be so close to my hydraulic clutch pump.
       Investigator Kahler walked over to the trunk of his squad car and opened it. Inside was a metal case full of sophisticated camera gear. He had more than one case; a whole arsenal in fact. He began by walking over to my T_________ and took a few pictures. As he walked into my shop his partner hoped into the driver's seat and drove me away from the scene. The cops left behind were going into my shop where I had another top secrete proto-type in the works. It felt like they were holding me down and raping my child right in front me. It seemed to me Kahler wasn't even concerned about the front of my truck, (which was outside of the shop,) because he just headed inside the shop. It accrued to me he was sent out to get my trade secrets. The fact that part of my front bumper was recently cut off with the use of a cutting torch was none of his concern.

There was a ron dei vue with a patty wagon behind a furniture store on South Tacoma Way. I was transferred into the back of a mini van driven by a volunteer. I laid into him all the way down to the jail at the County City Building. About the funniest thing he said to me towards the end of our association was, "You're not as smart as you think."
       I laughed at him and said, "I'm smarter than most."
       "I volunteer to do this in my spare time," he said, "because I do feel it does make a difference, I do it to make this place a better and safer place for my family." What he didn't understand is the crooks he is giving his time to just have ripped his family off at least $50,000. The moron didn't understand a word I said. He was actually doing his family a disservice. I just couldn't get over wondering where they get these dumb fucks. As I was being booked into jail, I had my phone call and I called John. I told him about what happened and asked him to go over to my place and see if they locked everything up.
       This time around, the experience in jail was much different than the experience I had before. This time I talked to the jailers as if they were doing a foolish thing and they tried to act as if they didn't know what I was talking about. But then I'd have to say that there was a few of them that appeared to understand I wouldn’t fall for any of their pretending. It was as if they had a celebrity on hand and they wanted to keep it as low key as possible. They didn't exploit me to the inmates at all. The jailers wanted the inmates to think I was just an ordinary guy. It was obvious the jailers were well aware of who I was because at shift change, the door of the cell opened up and a guard verbally pointed me out to another.
       I did my spiel for the inmates and only two or three in their twenties were interested in what I had to say while others just thought of me as another crack addict with a conspiracy theory and didn't want to hear anything about it. Most of the inmates were in there because of their crank or heroin addiction.

I did learn of a scam: It takes them a long time to get on SSI but these guys know that they can collect it while in prison. Many of them get on it for one disability or another and I wouldn't doubt it if it was because of their addictions. They often spend time in jail and have a bank wad of money every time they get out. In California, they lose it after three months, but in the state of Washington it’s a holiday picnic for the scammers. They get out and they go right back to what landed them in there in the first place and it's at the expense of honest hard working people.
       I got out on personal recognizance of course. Funny how I was released at the same time as a guy that told me that every-thing I had to say didn't mean shit. Luckily I had bus fare to get back home.
       When I got home I called John and found out indeed the cops had left my trailer unlocked and the shop left wide open with my truck parked halfway out of the garage door. The keys were still in the ignition.

I had done some work out on the coast and then came home to find an eviction notice signed by a female judge. It was a ten day notice and since I'd been gone during the week, it turned out to be a four day notice for me.
       The next surprise I got was the pink papers I received which had been typed up by a court clerk. One was a Washington state Criminal Complaint/Docket in the district Court No. 1 of the State of Washington. It's signed just under the part where it says certify/declare under the penalty of perjury under the laws of the State of Washington that (Get this) I have reasonable grounds to believe, and do believe, the above person committed the above offences contrary to law. Signed: Michelle Luma Green, Deputy Prosecuting Attorney. WSBN: 27088
       Then I would have to say: Why in hell she wrote that the offence was RCW 46.52.010, DUTY ON STRICKING UNNATTENDED VEHICAL. MISDIMENOR: did unlawfully operate a vehicle that collided with an unattended vehicle--and so on and so on. Dam, I thought it was a light-pole?
       It said I was accused of running into a light pole and knocking it over. It said that the witnesses knew of the street I lived on and even my name. Now that I would find hard to believe be-cause these so called witnessed didn't know me personally. Then in the report the investigator mentioned that he had investigated the license number of the truck and found out where I lived. The license plate number was all I needed. The license plate number ended in a 4 instead of a Y. Now how could he do that if he had the wrong license number? I'd say he knew about me before hand.

Get this, the document states I refused to provide the license and insurance and stated he couldn't find the items and that the deputies said I said they should put me in jail. Shit can you believe that?

When I appeared for the preliminary court proceedings, it was apparent they were prepared for me to show up. I happened to get the same judge I'd given a 25 page booklet called Sunny-side’s Lousy Book just months earlier. It was obvious they didn't want to have me make a mockery out of them again so this time the court room was empty except the court clerks and two cops standing in the back of the court room.
       I said, "It looks to me that you've got the wrong guy here. The license plate isn't even the right number. My license plate ends in a “Y” as shown in the citation. Court papers show that it ends in a 4. The cop was picking on me because I've got a truck full of dents. It's quite obvious, since they showed up four hours after the alleged incident.
       "Hah, it's just a Type 'O'," the judge said. Then he assigned me a new court date.
       I got into him about whether he had read my book or not and the fact that he works for a bunch of crooks.
       I said that they were just picking on me because I have dents all over my truck. Instead of getting mouthy directly to the judge, I got into a spiel on the crooks running the local government to the court clerks. The judge didn't like what I was saying and said, "You are being silly." I said, “Yes it's pretty silly paying a million dollars an hour for a freak show."
       The court room just happened to be was right next door to Doug Sutherland’s office. I decided I'd go in and pay him a visit. When his receptionist asked for my name I used the name Sunnyside. It sure got ol Dougee Boy peeking around the corner of his doorway down the hall. He looked afraid to even talk to me. He sent his goon out to talk to me. This goon I'd seen several times before and he said his title was something like Chief of Security or whatever his title of the day was. I said, "I had nothing to say to you. I asked to speak to Dougee Boy." He gave me a line stating Doug was too busy to speak to me at the moment. I said "No he isn't, he's only been busy checking me out from the refuge of his door way. He knows I'm here." He said that he was the one who would try to take care of maters before Dougee would find time to speak to me. "That’s ok I knew I wouldn't get to speak to him anyway. I really don't have anything to say to him except that he's a lousy crook. I just wanted to get a peak at him."
       He came back with some more justification for having to talk to me first. I said, "Yeah, Chief of Security my ass. How secure does it feel knowing that you could end up living in a ghost town?" He tried to shake off what I was saying as if he didn't understand what I was saying or that he even knew who I was.
       "You guys really screwed up, you should have paid me for the dam fire, but now you've got to wonder if you are going to end up living in a ghost town." He again denied knowing about what I was talking about.
       "Sure you're going to deny it," I said, "You guys are a bunch of crooks." The two girls working as receptionist were getting a kick out of the shit I was laying on him. I'm sure the girls were well aware they were working for a bunch of crooks and they were amazed I'd have the balls to walk in there and tell them so.
       When the ladies who work in the office began to laugh, he got quite embarrassed. The goon got pissed off at my accusations and tried defending himself by saying that I shouldn’t come in there saying such things.
       While I was out front entertaining the girls; Dougee Boy was in his office calling the cops. Soon a cop walked into our little party. I laughed at the setup. The cop took our little get together outside of the office into the hallway so the girls wouldn't hear any of it. The stupidest thing was that the goon came out with us and tried to justify his pleadings. I told the cop he was working for a bunch of crooks and laughed at the two. The cop had a hard time trying not to laugh himself because I'd touched a sore spot on the goon and he felt he needed to defend himself. The two of us spared for a few minutes more minutes in front of the officer, but in the end, it was pointless. I wanted to talk to Dougee Boy but he just ran and hid. Too bad he chickened out and called the cops and ruined my fun because I would’ve roasted him in front of his secretaries.
       Since the preliminary court proceedings turned out to be so interesting, I thought the thing to do would be to take my video camera along to get more of crooks on video tape the second time around. I found out at the door that recorders weren't allowed in the court rooms. The neighborhood I parked my truck in wasn't the best place in town to be seen stashing a video camera in a vehicle so I decided to take the camera home but my early arrival was just turning into a late one. I had to wonder if the crooked judge would be writing up an arrest warrant for failure to appear as I was making the trip back home.

At a stoplight on 38th street I noticed in my rear view mirror that there was a patty wagon two cars behind me. I began to wonder if he was tailing me for a chance to pull me over. The signal light turned green and the cars began to move forward. I looked in the mirror to see if I could tell if it was a county or city patty wagon. BAM. The cars in front of me stopped moving and I smacked into the car in front of me.
       If I wasn't late for the court appearance already I knew the cop would hold me up long enough to be. The cop wasn't too thrilled to have to be the one to have to deal with me because I'm sure he was aware of the crap the local government was playing on me. I got out my video recorder and started recording the incident. I felt sorry for the lady whom got her trunk lid smashed, but I thought it was a pathetic disgrace I was still in the scummy town. You should see the picture of the two I got. The cop has the appearance of Ramon’s brother who is a cop on the Everybody Loves Ramon, show. The lady had that sweet and innocent appearance, but both of them had the most unusually confused look on their face. Like: What is this guy doing? What are we doing with this guy?

When I did show up in the court room, it was no surprise I got a minority court appointed attorney assigned to me. His assistant was a white dude, but short on brains I'd say. The fuck head took me out to the hallway and suggested I cop a plea bargain. The guilty plea he wanted me to fall for was five days of hard labor. I couldn't believe it. The city had set me up to get killed. I receive a screwed up foot out of the deal and they wanted me to do hard labor. I didn't even know there was such a thing as hard labor anymore. For a misdemeanor no less.
       It's my guess the “failure to give information” is what the pig called a felony. I thought I had a right to remain silent. I sure as hell wasn't about to let the asshole put words into my mouth. He didn't even have a search warrant. He didn't have the right to be on my property since he didn't even have the right license plate number.
       The assistant then tried to get me to go for some jail time instead. I told him he was full of shit. I told him about the conspiracy and even gave him a rough draft of my book on disk. He told me that he thought I should be sent to Western State Mental Hospital. I said, “Don’t give me that shit -- I don't fit the qualifications. Hell -- I was told that if I told people that they put drugs into my drinking water -- I would be committed. Shit, I've handed out hundreds of those disks that say they put drugs in my water, and I'm still not in a mental hospital!"
       Stads, the attorney listened to my spiel with a little more respect than his assistant. He told me he was going to file a continuation and that he'd get in touch with me at a later time. (It’s my guess they wanted to try my in an empty courtroom.)

While talking to Stads, I somehow got him to open up his file and what I discovered was a copy of the signed witness statement. The surprising thing about it was that the “4” had been crossed out and a “Y” was paced beside it. It was obvious the judge I’d seen earlier (the one who I’d given my book five months earlier,) had falsified the witness statement. I never did hear from Stads again, but I did get a warrant in the mail for failure to appear.
       Gee, I’m sure court records will show that I was down at the Court house that day, because I was there personally to turn in the citation -- I received earlier in the day for smacking the ladies car – for a court date.

Oh yeah, about the alleged light pole.... When I got back home after I got out of jail, I grabbed my video camera and when up to take a few pictures of the base. The base was hard to distinguish because there was a large amount of rust. A pile of rust scale that is. I couldn't make out a base plate or the steel that would have had to snap. See the problem was that the light pole was a design from at least two decades earlier. Unlike the way you will see them on top of a cement pilling protruding out of the ground about 2 1/2 feet as they do now days. The base or should I say junction box was just fastened to the ground at parking lot level. The junction box was made out of 3/16 inch steel and over years the rainwater had ran down the pole and through the junction box. Although it had been panted several times throughout the years, the paint didn't do anything for the interior of the box.

I met the electricians who were working on repairing the light pole. They were laughing at the whole thing. I told them that since they weren't mounted on concrete pilings, all the lights in the parking lot were a liability and an accident waiting to hap-pen. They too knew that a light pole sitting on the ground was a sitting duck for anyone to bump into. There wasn’t even any curbs’ blocking anyone from bumping into them.
       The electricians weren't fabricators but all they were concerned with was putting new light fixtures on the top of the pole which was in good shape yet. As they were trying to pound the box back into shape, I showed up with my camera and even met up with the manager of the store. I told him that they should take out all the lights and replace them with modern ones with a concrete base like the ones everywhere else.
       They’d hired a welder to weld the junction box back down to the base plate. I stopped by and got a picture of that too. I was amazed they were even able to grind away the scale rust and still find enough metal to weld to. It looked quite tacky compared to what I'd do. (That is fabricating a whole new.)
       The thing that might amaze you as much as it did me was when I stopped by to take the picture of the workmanship; a small blue car had already run into the pole. (I got a video of it too.) Funny how soon it happened. The nylon sling used to raise the pole with the crane was still stuck at the top of the pole. I'd say that was putting the welds to the test alright. I'll give the welder a B+ for the workmanship, even if he was stuck welding a piece of crap. His weld held and that was all that mattered.
       The deal is, is this: The coffee stand is in the outer field of the parking lot at the grocery store. When pulling out of the coffee stand's drive up window heading south. You had the line of cars approaching the stand from the other direction for the window on the east side. When pulling away from the west window you have to look to your right for cars that might be coming down the lane through the parking lot. And you have to look left for cars coming in off the street which would show up behind the line forming for the East window. Then you have to look straight ahead because there is an entrance to the parking lot strait ahead of you as you pull away from the west window. With all these directions of traffic, the last thing you think about is the gray pole that is just to the left of the strait shot out of the west window. After clearing yourself for traffic and you plan to go out to the main road, (Pacific Avenue) and if have any line formed for the east window, you'll find yourself heading for the pole .

Basically I think of the pole getting knocked over as sort of a blessing. At least nobody got hurt and no cars were damaged. Having a fresh welding job made it so that nobody got hurt when the pole got hit by the small blue car. You might say it's a crazy way to look at it but....

The girls in the coffee shop my not think it's such a crazy way to look at it because shortly thereafter, a wind storm came along and blew over another light pole just west of the coffee stand. If the light pole would've been only ten to fifteen feet closer, the extending arms at the top of the light pole could have come right through the vinyl roof of the coffee stand and very have well killed one of them.
       Just after the wind blew over the light pole -- just missing the coffee stand -- the store management had some guys set up temporary barricades and then the next day they put curbs in front of each pole. The girls still didn't feel safe in the parking lot after that. One said, "Shoot, the curbs can only do so much, a big truck will roll right over those curbs.”
       I told the girls about the judge falsifying the paper work to witness testimonies and turned them on to my book. You can sure bet if I have to go to trial over the light pole. I'll sure want to summons the girls to show up to testify. What do you think they'd have to say?

The next chapter of Sunnyside's Lousy Book is:

Back to the Trailer Court

Have you seen the otherBook Excerpts?


> Sunnyside's Lousy Book
> Lousy Book Condensed
> Sunnyside - Good Things
> Stalking Buffy
> Book History
> What Celebrities say
> Book Excerpts
> Site Map
> Rule No. 1-15
> Rule No. 16-39
> Rule No. 40-66
> Rule No. 70-100


Featured chapter prior to

What Light Pole? is:

Tell me, does the underground use cops?

This segment describes what the second set of court documents are all about.

For 2 page  file




For long 10 page PDF




Pretty rusty base plate
I'd say.

Funny how the welder sprayed primer on it so it wouldn't look rusty. But I've got to give him credit for even being able to weld to such a rusty thing. 
It does'nt matter how the weld looks, as long as it holds.


They get it up, but the strap wouldn't slide down on the day they hung it

Even after a car ran into it the same day as they put it up.

I guess I'm not the only one who was looking for traffic and not a gray pole.


Yah wanna check out line 19

wooden dumpster on back of a Synchro-link truck

My Synchro-link truck
is a whole fleet of trucks in one
Check it out at


<Book Excerpts






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