get rich or die tryin'

A block from here, there was a guy whose identity hasn't been released as of yet, who stabbed a couple of Minneapolis police officers this morning after they caught him trying to break in to a check cashing place.

I would imagine the money in a check cashing place is probably some of the more secure cash in the world. Even behind a locked door and plenty of thick plexiglass, the courteous customer service representatives who work there practically risk their lives serving the down and out poor bastards who can't wait the extra how many hours to take their check to an actual bank, who have to Get That Money, like, fucking NOW. I can just see him flinging himself against the window, envisioning his ransack of "THE MAN's" moneybag. First he simply cracks the lock somehow, then the next door inside, all the way to the safe. Boom, done.

But not. I'm guessing it would probably take a sober and talented locksmith a fair amount of time to get to where the money is, which is the only reason to go. They have the worst magazine selection since Hitler or something.

A person who was so strung out that they had no other choice but to break into a check-cashing place at eight Monday morning, in broad daylight in heavy traffic, had chemical dependency problems I will never understand, and he's probably better off dead. More importantly, I'm better off with him dead, which he now is, because after he stabbed the cops who tried to dislodge him from the storefront, the cops used his body to store their bullets in. As much as I love Franklin Avenue, I'd never want to bleed to death in the middle of it, but maybe that's just the level of devotion some people have.

RIP, dude. Minneapolis's finest saved you the trouble of needing that money, but just to give you the benefit of the doubt, drug-wise, I'll memorialize you with an album the name of which sums up your situation.


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