A Stab At The Assbite Ratio

                          My mind wakes me up sometimes, it wants to worry about something and it can't if I'm asleep. I'm used to it, it's as old as I am and it's always been there. Tonight, it's on the Assbite Ratio.
        Locally, right there in San Francisco, my hometown, if an Assbite is on the prowl and finds you doing it, they can write you a ticket for smoking in Golden Gate Park. I just heard about it today. It's an "ordinance."
      
         I have smoked all kinds of shit in that park, alone as well as with thousands of other smoking fools, and never once were we told we couldn't. I've eaten in there, fed people in there, took naps, helped clean it up, played ball, got laid, tried to get laid, tried again, dropped acid, picked up acid, found a windmill and a bunch of lost statues and went to four blues festivals.I have been wandering around in that park since I was a little kid. Not one cop, not one, ever bothered me for any of it. Ever.
             Let me extrapolate.
              Now there's a word, "Extrapolate."  How many other guys are up thinking about Assbite Ratios, wondering about big words and where they come from and writing about bad ideas while listening to Clarence Carter and The Pretenders at two thirty in the morning? I am not a Manic/Depressive either, this is normal.
           All I'm on is tea and a cigarette now and then, not many. It's so early, if I try to pet the dog she snarls. The fish are up though, watching me through their window on the world, so I'm not lonely.
       Back to Assbites.
       The ones I'm talking about are the Assbites known as " Public Safety Officers." They are grown men and women trained in Public Safety, they want to be cops and then they're forced into Assbitery in order to get enough hours in. Imagine hiding somewhere behind something and trying to catch someone ignoring the Assbite rules?
          They have to do that. Some probably like to, most of them don't, I'd bet. A Big Assbite orders them to.   
             If I'm offered a chance to receive a ticket for smoking in the park, it'll be a trained Assbite who wants me to just sign and accept it.This bad news is for them. I won't.
          I'm concerned though, about the financial burden imposed on the community because of my revolutionary decision.They'd better adjust their budget because, I'll tell you this; it's going to cost them if it's me they get.
           So, how many Assbites will it take to handle me and my cigarette?
     That brings us to the ratio.
              Lets say I'll sign the fucking thing, the ticket, which I won't, its W. W=?. If I won't,which it is, its X. X=?. If I kick the Assbite writing it in the nuts and run, its Y. Y=?.
                Z is if I sign and then throw away the ticket. Another unknown until or unless it happens, so Z=?.
       Even though I lean towards anarchy in most of my endeavors to promote justice,  I will not engage in Y under these types of circumstances. I am going in, as they say in aviation.
        So, here I am now, I have an Assbite problem. A chickenshit ticket,and something else too, probably a mutiny beef. I am "in custody." I will have trouble with a "judge" very soon.
             Since I'm a principled motherfucker, we're at X.
                   Now, since I'm in the can,I will carefully help and encourage anyone willing to file any kind of complaint, I'll write it up and turn it in to the screw shift supervisors and then send copies to the editors of the newspapers and our members of congress.
                 I'll find the guy with the cell phone and I will call for pizza deliveries, COD, as often as possible for the deputies.
               I will begin advocating for racial justice and equality. That really gets everyone working. Too bad, they gave me the best platform you can get for that one and I'm on it. Then we segue into adequate medical and dental care for prisoners and no forced labor, union workers only. .
         I'll call all the funeral homes in the county and say "I'm  the  coroner, send two hearses over to the Police Chiefs house to pick up his and his wifes bodies, it looks like a murder suicide pact."
          Crates of live Maine Lobsters will arrive, COD at the DA's offices.
         When I get out, if they let me out, I'm not coming back.
       So.
          X is a finite number but so many Assbite scenarios are now involved in the scandal that I need more data to come to an exact number for it. Court personnel, lawyers, media coverage, Assbites and now real cops to recapture me and come pick me up.
       
 My little demonstration of  dissent and hatred for tyranny, or my "case", is running in the thousands of dollars  before the mini assbites can even begin on it and really start running the number up.
                The mini assbites. Some of them are alright like the real cops are, but by association they are members of the Assbite Horde. There's hundreds of them, too. They input and check up on things and communicate. I'll send them Chinese food every day. That's right, COD. The Live Sea Monkeys stay in reserve, but they're going out, so are all the free samples of any kind of pornography I can get mailed from publishers to every Assbite address I can get.
               No  fines or any bail are ever paid. It's all red ink for the Assbites, no black. I make some new friends, get some rest and catch up on my reading.
            The Assbite sum swells and subsides so it's impossible to pin it down until the end.
     So,  X means infinity.
     The ratio is Me vs an Infinite Assbite Horde. 
          Around and around we go.
  Maybe now that it's out, Hawking or someone that's rational will take the Assbite Ratio on. My sister Linda could figure it out. Also, my friend Ed. Miguel, my nephew, maybe.
           I have a headache. They better leave me alone, though, if they know whats good for everyone.
      If they don't get me by tomorrow night  I may take on the Federal Asshole Ratio.