When a man's home aint his castle.

Aug 17, 2012. Here sits the Guitarman, alone with his thoughts, in an unadorned, bleak, and desolate jail cell, wondering where it all went so horribly wrong. He didn't really ever consider himself a criminal, per se. But he knew it was wrong. He knew that the erosion of the 4th Amendment began nearly a year and a half ago, yet he persisted in his law defying antics, daring authorities to not only find him, but persecute him as well. He could still hear the words of the patrolman, echoing in his head like a lost tourist in the Grand Canyon, from that day in court.

Judge: So, patrolman McGruder, describe your train of thoughts as you entered the defendants home September 20, 2011.
Cop: Well, your honor, I was chasing a known felon, wanted for grand larceny, murder, weapons trafficking, and possession of a narcotic with the intent to deliver, when I passed by an open window of the home of the defendant. I stopped in my tracks as I heard an unmistakable "ripping" sound coming from the second floor bedroom.
Judge: And by "unmistakable" you mean...unmistakable?
Cop: Yes your honor.
Judge: Proceed.
Cop: So,likes I was sayin', I immediately gave up on my foot pursuit of the suspect, and proceeded to the front door of the defendants home. I drew my weapon and was prepared to kick in the door, and paused for a brief second to consider the legality of my impending action. It was at that precise moment I remembered the US Supreme Courts near unanimous decision in May of 2011 that allowed police to enter a home without a search warrant if the officer perceived an illegal activity was taking place in the home.
Judge: Now when you say "near unanimous", you mean...near unanimous?
Cop: Yes your honor, if not for Ruth "Lone Wolf" Bader-Ginsburg.
Judge: Proceed.
Cop: So with my new sense of purpose, I kicked in the door, proceeded with weapon drawn to the upstairs bedroom, when I saw the defendant on his knees, next to a brand new mattress, with the tag in his left hand.

The moral of my story? If you are preparing to give a skunk a bath in your kitchen, best close that window lest a wandering patrol officer mistakes it for the "unmistakable" odor of potent marijuana growing in the home. And if you happen to be rehearsing lines for a play with your spouse that includes a rape scene, or like to watch violent movies with the volume turned up really high, or if you are a migraine sufferer, and prefer to chop up your aspirin into a fluffy white pile and leave it on a mirror on your coffee table, draw those curtains buddy.

"...with the tag in his left hand." Those words will haunt me forever. Why couldn't I have just used scissors?