<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468</id><updated>2012-01-15T11:54:55.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Courthouse Confessions</title><subtitle type='html'>In Their Own Words</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>127</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7369832717003806658</id><published>2011-05-24T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T12:06:23.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Yeah over thirty years."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2j22zhMTq0/TdwU91wN0eI/AAAAAAAAD6U/D_7Lv-B5pl4/s1600/_S194816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2j22zhMTq0/TdwU91wN0eI/AAAAAAAAD6U/D_7Lv-B5pl4/s400/_S194816.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;They said, "I responded like an echo, I adapted like a shadow, I struck like an arrow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;I don't know what they call it, harassment. Somebody, I'm not sure. I have no idea. I don't remember. Yeah they put cuffs on me. What do you think happens? You go through the system, you either end up in Rikers Island or you eat shit for another two years. I don't know what I did. I think I harassed, I think somebody. The constitution means I have rights. I wanna know where they are? I'm trying to find them. I've been looking for the last thirty years. I think my rights have been lost. Probably close to maybe thirty five. Yeah over thirty years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Tony&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;May 24, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7369832717003806658?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7369832717003806658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7369832717003806658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2011/05/yeah-over-thirty-years_8257.html' title='&quot;Yeah over thirty years.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2j22zhMTq0/TdwU91wN0eI/AAAAAAAAD6U/D_7Lv-B5pl4/s72-c/_S194816.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4176296423326993936</id><published>2011-05-24T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:46:40.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Make people smile. That's what I try to do."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-la5UQSC1rFM/TdwOdBtjE5I/AAAAAAAAD6E/ah5Y0F1vs_I/s1600/_DSF4573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-la5UQSC1rFM/TdwOdBtjE5I/AAAAAAAAD6E/ah5Y0F1vs_I/s400/_DSF4573.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Make people smile. That's what I try to do. Make people smile. I shake my hips and do a funny dance. People laugh. You know. There's a funny guy dancing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;A couple of weeks ago, an undercover police officer came up to me. He was standing next to me for awhile and looking a little suspicious. I was wondering what he was doing. Later he came over to me and got me on the handcuff and took me to the jail. This is the costume I was wearing that day. I was in the jail for like two hours. It's an Elvis costume. I have all different costumes. I have a monkey, penguin and Mickey Mouse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Yoshi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="p1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;May 23, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4176296423326993936?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4176296423326993936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4176296423326993936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2011/05/make-people-smile-thats-what-i-try-to_24.html' title='&quot;Make people smile. That&apos;s what I try to do.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-la5UQSC1rFM/TdwOdBtjE5I/AAAAAAAAD6E/ah5Y0F1vs_I/s72-c/_DSF4573.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1704225800813550137</id><published>2010-05-17T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:27:12.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"What if some crackhead rolls up on me, fucking starting some bullshit? "</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S_FxSEsN2XI/AAAAAAAAB-M/gA6Ih4p9fgQ/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472279577542646130" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S_FxSEsN2XI/AAAAAAAAB-M/gA6Ih4p9fgQ/s400/blog.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 230px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I bought a knife here in one of these stores, what's it called, gravity knife. Apparently it's against the law. They'll sell them to you here but they'll arrest you for having them. They picked me up, criminal possession of a weapon four. Here I am in court. They dropped it to, the DA originally told me that I was gonna get time served with guilty but now I gotta do one day of community service and I gotta come back in July, a huge problem for me. It's not a problem, it's an inconvenience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Why did I have a knife?  I mean who knows? The lifestyle I live, what if some crackhead rolls up on me, fucking starting some bullshit? Why not? They'll sell it to me. Why can I not have it? They make them all the time. So personally I don't understand why I could buy a knife in the city that I can't have in the city. In the store that sold it to me they didn't tell me it was gonna be illegal or not, they didn't like, "Here's your knife, thirteen fifty, but if they catch you with it they're gonna charge you with a crime." So I don't feel I should have been the one going to jail, you know the mother fucker who sold it to me, fuck. It is what it is. That's why I'm here. I made it. I slept on the fucking steps last night just so I'd be here on time. And uh that's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tinnon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;May 17, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1704225800813550137?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1704225800813550137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1704225800813550137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-bought-knife-here-in-one-of-these.html' title='&quot;What if some crackhead rolls up on me, fucking starting some bullshit? &quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S_FxSEsN2XI/AAAAAAAAB-M/gA6Ih4p9fgQ/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-42900768098037265</id><published>2010-04-21T08:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:46:05.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"You should be allowed to rest your eyes, allowed to be comfortable."</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462611476491427138" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S88YMho-XUI/AAAAAAAAB9A/mQSDcV7BJ80/s400/_DSC6586blog.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Trying to straighten out my community service because I missed it that day. Because it was snowing that day I was supposed to do it. For sleeping in an ATM, criminal trespass. Me and my ex-girlfriend had an argument and she kinda kicked me out of the apartment so I found myself an ATM and fell asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;She said something I didn't like and I said something she didn't like. Sometimes she can be very nice and sometimes she can put me down. She didn't really put me down, she just didn't understand me, she misunderstood me. Like she's totally against marijuana use. Sometimes I like to smoke. That could run into a problem between me and her. She thinks that it just wastes my time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;It was kinda carpeted. It was a Chase bank. I just remember waking up and two cops were in front of me. Not like having a place. Not like a couch or bed. It was better then the streets themselves. The police are cracking down on people sleeping in ATM's. If you're not hurting anybody or damaging anything and you're homeless I think you should be allowed. Allowed to rest your eyes, allowed to be comfortable. I understand if ten people are sleeping there but not everybody knows about it so. You might have one or two people at a time sleeping in the place. I think the one or two people that come there first should be allowed but I don't make the laws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Sammy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;April 21, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-42900768098037265?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/42900768098037265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/42900768098037265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2010/04/you-should-be-allowed-to-rest-your-eyes.html' title='&quot;You should be allowed to rest your eyes, allowed to be comfortable.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S88YMho-XUI/AAAAAAAAB9A/mQSDcV7BJ80/s72-c/_DSC6586blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-624975084303470745</id><published>2010-04-16T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T15:11:48.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"it's the craziest thing."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8jbjSD8qaI/AAAAAAAAB8I/5jPNyrebTBg/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8jbjSD8qaI/AAAAAAAAB8I/5jPNyrebTBg/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460855947377027490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The charge was criminal trespassing. Hopping the turnstiles trying to get to a party. Oh man, it's the craziest thing. Me and a couple of friends going to a party figured we hop the train so we hopped the train, see the cops and run thinking we were gonna get away. We ran downstairs to the platform. From there it's only two cops so far chasing me. I'm on one end of a bar and he's on the end of the bar and we're just going back and forth. It's just like cat and mouse at this point. It's four of us, two of them cops, some of us got away. The cops were just on my ass. They're just chasing me, chasing me, chasing me for like five minutes now. Then more cops come. By the time I knew it I had cops all over me, I'm against the bench getting handcuffed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seemed like he was getting tired. He was totally out of breath by time he caught me. He's a fat white guy. He looked like somebody out of the Sopranos to be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean&lt;br /&gt;April 16, 2010&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-624975084303470745?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/624975084303470745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/624975084303470745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2010/04/theyre-just-chasing-me-chasing-me_16.html' title='&quot;it&apos;s the craziest thing.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8jbjSD8qaI/AAAAAAAAB8I/5jPNyrebTBg/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5729067765406545892</id><published>2010-04-13T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T11:45:52.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Squeezing my genitals, this and that."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8S7i0l07DI/AAAAAAAAB7g/M98rxduPAaE/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8S7i0l07DI/AAAAAAAAB7g/M98rxduPAaE/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459694855187131442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The previous case was about, of all things a straw. See I was with a friend of mine that had been know to these police because a couple of weeks earlier her and her boyfriend were in a pizza place arranging a drug deal from the dealer over the phone very much out loud with the narc squad sitting next to them. So some weeks later we're sitting in a coffee shop and they notice her and I guess they had their eyes on us. So I left the coffee shop to go around the corner to get a, this is right in Union Square to go to the grocery and of course two cops stopped me and started molesting me, throwing their hands all over me, squeezing my genitals, this and that. I'm asking them, What's going on?" They won't tell me. So they leave me alone. I go to the store. You know I better go check on my friends. Sure enough I went back and mind you they patted me down. A second time back, they see me like four or six of them just grab me and start doing the same thing, knock my food out of my hands, smash my face in the wall. Really manhandling me and this time he produces a straw and that's his evidence of drug use. I had a straw in my pocket,  And, you know, this was for protesting that, you know, you can't just pull people out of coffee shops, and, you know, search them for no reason, you know, other than the sight of them. So, I'm here to get the straw thing dismissed, hopefully.  They're giving me a hard time with it, but I'm pretty confident.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;George&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;April 13, 2010&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5729067765406545892?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5729067765406545892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5729067765406545892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2010/04/squeezing-my-genitals-this-and-that.html' title='&quot;Squeezing my genitals, this and that.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8S7i0l07DI/AAAAAAAAB7g/M98rxduPAaE/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1536112564624702444</id><published>2010-03-10T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T08:45:29.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Crap. I knew this was gonna happen."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S5fLfE-5uMI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/3x5UBlN64CE/s1600-h/GARYHE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S5fLfE-5uMI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/3x5UBlN64CE/s400/GARYHE.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447046009101859010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;They said that I walked through a park after the sign said that I shouldn't. This was around 1:30AM. I was… I had one beer with my brother and a friend of mine and we took a cab back across, uh, 3rd street and my friend was going somewhere else so I hopped out of the cab to meet a business associate. I walked up LaGuardia and then I saw that there were women standing in the park, you know, taking pictures of the arch, still lit at the time. There were gates up but there was also a police car at the entrance of the park, so if it was really illegal to be in the park, I would imagine someone would have been confronting the women at that point. It was also 14 degrees outside. So I decided, what the heck, I can cut through the park in 10, 15 seconds flat, so I started walking through the park. As I approached the north side of the park, I see a police van roll up and I go, "Crap. I knew this was gonna happen." The guy stops me, asks me what I was doing--sorta like what you are doing right now, except without a video camera, as far as I know--and hit me with a, uh... failure to obey park signs. [laughter]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gary&lt;br&gt;March 10, 2010&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1536112564624702444?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1536112564624702444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1536112564624702444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2010/03/crap-i-knew-this-was-gonna-happen.html' title='&quot;Crap. I knew this was gonna happen.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S5fLfE-5uMI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/3x5UBlN64CE/s72-c/GARYHE.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1973817474656491342</id><published>2009-12-04T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T17:33:49.699-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"This is not Gestapo."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sxm4dEF4aWI/AAAAAAAAB6E/C4neKLnEhTE/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sxm4dEF4aWI/AAAAAAAAB6E/C4neKLnEhTE/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411559236716489058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was walking up the street with my hands in my pockets just like this and I see this kid pulled over and he looks at me and I looked back and they're like, "Hey stop!" and I walked back and then take another look back, someone runs over, jumps up, grabs me, slams my fucking head in the ground, holds his hands over my head and about to hit me and I say, "I'm from Ohio." After he just grabs my fucking shit, pulls me up and takes me to a car, searches my pockets, says, "Oh what about that wallet in the phone booth, what about your wallet?" I'm like I have my wallet, it's in my friends car. Then they take me over to this phone booth, grab this wallet that doesn't have my ID in it, has like drugs in it and stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now they're trying to put a felony on me for this wallet that has no ID in it or anything to link it to me. I have a pregnant girl at home. I just came to see a Phish concert and go home and take care of my pregnant girl. They're trying to take my life away for no reason for Gestapo shit. This is not right. It's unconstitutional and it's not fair. You can't do this. I don't have help. I don't even have a phone to call home. no one even knows where I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is not the America I was told. You can't do that to people. This isn't Gestapo. This is not Gestapo. This is not a Nazi police country. This is fucking America.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ricky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;December 4, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1973817474656491342?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1973817474656491342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1973817474656491342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-is-not-gestapo.html' title='&quot;This is not Gestapo.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sxm4dEF4aWI/AAAAAAAAB6E/C4neKLnEhTE/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4980908408559445653</id><published>2009-10-30T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T15:02:52.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm not really for this system you know, really."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SutJC9X6NWI/AAAAAAAAB50/nFcfZhk72jM/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SutJC9X6NWI/AAAAAAAAB50/nFcfZhk72jM/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398488893517084002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Petty larceny in the 5th degree and they also charged me with obstruction of justice. The victim claims that I you know that I stole a phone from her you know, you know it's funny she says that you know cause like you know in the past my stuffs been stolen you know so I've never been made a complaint you know.&lt;br /&gt;I think the system is a bunch of boloney. It's ridiculous. It's just a bunch of b.s. man. Like for real. You got cops coming through here like shooting unarmed men and making their jobs back. I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of rapisists came through here, you know, they'd get that thrown out. Meanwhile they want to lock people up for like b.s. You go to my neighborhood over there psst you got psst, you got homicides going on over there, unsolved homicides and attempt murders but meanwhile they want to lock people up for a bunch of b.s. you know just to get a collar you know status or something. This system is messed up. Justice, I think they gotta rewrite this or something, like cross examinate themselves you know cause I wouldn't be surprised there's some corruption going around in this stuff, in these walls you know this building. There's corruption in the NYPD. You know so why isn't there corruption in here? Like people are getting blamed for nothing man. It's a headache you know. You know you lose your hair falling out of us. I'm not really for this system you know, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincey&lt;br /&gt;October 30, 2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4980908408559445653?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4980908408559445653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4980908408559445653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-not-really-for-this-system-you-know.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m not really for this system you know, really.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SutJC9X6NWI/AAAAAAAAB50/nFcfZhk72jM/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6997224125004865811</id><published>2009-09-03T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T13:21:24.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"She searched me, and she felt it. In my panties."</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SqAjQaVVEFI/AAAAAAAAB40/9SZVdQ_Z1mk/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377336719934034002" /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;I was going to visit my husband in Rikers Island, I got busted with some tobacco in my panties. Well, the officer, for some reason, she searched me, and she felt it. In my panties. Regular cigarette. Had it in a balloon. Yeah. No, you can't smoke in Rikers, period. Can not smoke in Rikers Island, at all. No one. So, you have to sneak it in. I don't know. I have no – can't tell you that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Renee&lt;br /&gt;September 3, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6997224125004865811?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6997224125004865811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6997224125004865811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/09/she-searched-me-and-she-felt-it-in-my.html' title='&quot;She searched me, and she felt it. In my panties.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SqAjQaVVEFI/AAAAAAAAB40/9SZVdQ_Z1mk/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2459792910294706872</id><published>2009-08-21T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:56:29.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"it's public disorderly—public—public—disorder—disorderly conduct."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8enpaA4vGI/AAAAAAAAB74/MY5V6NV9Z7k/s1600/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8enpaA4vGI/AAAAAAAAB74/MY5V6NV9Z7k/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460517403009530978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; "&gt;&lt;span style=" font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, I'm homeless and at a certain point in the day I don't really have many options on where I can go to the bathroom. They've closed the public bathrooms and a lot of the bars and other public places around town do not let you use their bathrooms when you're homeless – unless you buy something, which I don't have money to buy. So, I had to pee in a bush. And, I was peeing in a bush and just – I swear to God, if the officer had been two seconds quicker, all of this would have happened with my pants down around my ankles. Just managed to get my stuff put away and all of a sudden — stuff. My junk. Put away. And, all of a sudden, somebody's grabbing me from behind. Did not identify themselves, I had no idea who was grabbing me – it was just somebody was grabbing me. So, I pulled back, which, I believe, is the normal human thing to do and so the officer then pulled me back again, handcuffed me, slammed me into the wall, threw me on the floor, and it wasn't until he picked me back up and turned me around that I saw the cop car – that I realized what was going on. So, that's public urination and resisting arrest. And, because I was bleeding, as he threw me in the back of the cop car, I think that's why he felt the need to accuse me of assaulting him. In fact, he claims that I bit him. Now, I had a witness who was standing two feet away who can tell you that that did not happen, so I've been — I came to court, I was supposed to come to court a couple weeks ago, I was late, didn't realize what time I was supposed to be here, the judge yelled at me, I almost cried, and so I had to come back again today, and the last time they were willing to — the first time I was through, they were willing to drop the assault charge and then – but just charge me with resisting and public urination and give me public service? Community service. And I was, like, "yeah, but I didn't do this." So, I said no, I pled not guilty, so I had to come back, I was late the first time, I had to come back again and they reduced the charge again to something called 220 or 240.20, which is not a crime, doesn't go on your record, it's publicdisorderly—public—public—disorder—disorderly conduct. Disorderly conduct. So, that's what's officially going on my record, it's not officially considered a crime. But, the part that I find interesting is that the police officer lied, completely lied, and claimed that I assaulted him, which never happened. Never happened. That's pretty much the long and the short of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; "&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;Daniel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family:georgia, serif;"&gt;August 21, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2459792910294706872?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2459792910294706872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2459792910294706872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-im-homeless-and-at-certain-point-in.html' title='&quot;it&apos;s public disorderly—public—public—disorder—disorderly conduct.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/S8enpaA4vGI/AAAAAAAAB74/MY5V6NV9Z7k/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5597526754244413280</id><published>2009-08-03T13:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T13:53:45.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Where's the dope, where's the E?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SndORMDQNpI/AAAAAAAAB30/1T3-6VYThK0/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SndORMDQNpI/AAAAAAAAB30/1T3-6VYThK0/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365843538234848914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my friend snitched on me AKA told the cops I was doing something I shouldn't be doing. Me being dumb enough, I actually didn't check her background. Didn't figure she was a cop in time. Sold her an ounce. Then she tried to get me to sell her some E. I got hip. Caught on to the game and told them, "I know who you are. Or you're not. You're not a cop. All right I'll go back and get it." Then there was a big wild goose chase and they chased me all around. I had a cop follow me for six blocks. Then I started following them. That's actually the pretty funny part. He hopped into a UPS truck. I thought I was good, free for about two or three weeks. Who thought they would catch me at thirteenth and Sixth. I forgot took a cab over there by accident. Steeped foot. Eighteen narcotics officers, not D boys. "Turn around get down on the ground." It was like eighteen officers for my skinny ass. As soon as they catch me they grab me by the throat, "Where's the dope, where's the E?" I'm like, "I'm not gonna lie to you about that." I only sell trees. I lost $2500 to the state for some marijuana. That's some bullshit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anthony&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 3, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5597526754244413280?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5597526754244413280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5597526754244413280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/08/wheres-dope-wheres-e.html' title='&quot;Where&apos;s the dope, where&apos;s the E?&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SndORMDQNpI/AAAAAAAAB30/1T3-6VYThK0/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5094418540056574697</id><published>2009-08-03T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T13:51:11.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Cops were called so I had to be on the run."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SncDUxqSPpI/AAAAAAAAB3s/MOCAPhY-cpo/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SncDUxqSPpI/AAAAAAAAB3s/MOCAPhY-cpo/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365761136498196114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had to bring my court paper for anger management. Cause I assaulted someone for calling me out of my name. Faggot. I just maced him and I wanted to fight him but then cops were called so I had to be on the run. They caught me, in the city and I got arrested. I wasn't trying to hide I was trying to run away cause i knew I did something wrong but then at the end of the day I know that I didn't because i was self defending myself. I maced him and I went to go punch him and he blocked, so I just went off cause his eyes were really red. People calling me out of my name? Yes. Because I'm gay.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 3, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5094418540056574697?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5094418540056574697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5094418540056574697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/08/cops-were-called-so-i-had-to-be-on-run.html' title='&quot;Cops were called so I had to be on the run.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SncDUxqSPpI/AAAAAAAAB3s/MOCAPhY-cpo/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4588706646575494430</id><published>2009-07-17T13:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T07:28:57.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Crack cocaine. I'm addicted to crack cocaine."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SmNWd5MGJgI/AAAAAAAAB20/_mQfvxhWAK4/s1600-h/blog2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SmNWd5MGJgI/AAAAAAAAB20/_mQfvxhWAK4/s400/blog2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360223053068772866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Prostitution, I was charged with prostitution. Yes. It was an undercover...yesterday afternoon, the undercover wanted drugs, and he came up to me, and said, "you know where to go get some crack at?" I said, "yeah," then he asked me do I want to do a sexual favor. I said "I don't do sexual favors. I don't do any sexual favors, I'm not a prostitute." But, they still charged me with...they just charged me with prostitution, not drug charges. No, I'm not a prostitute, that's the thing. I'm a person that does drugs. Nope, it didn't even get that far because I took the money and I ran. No, he gave me the money to go get the drugs, and I took the money and I ran. I guess he had something recorded, something on the phone recorded, stating that I would do it. Sexual favors. At the time, I did. I would have sex with him. Regular sex. $20. Sex. Regular sex. At the time, I didn't have no money. Yes, I was strung out. No, if it's for my freedom, no. I'm going home, I live in New Jersey, I'm going back home to try to straighten up my life. Crack cocaine. I'm addicted to crack cocaine. At the time, I did, but, now, I'm getting into too much trouble over this, I don't want to do it no more. Going on nine years. I want to get a job and go get my kids back. He's helped me, Jesus has helped me get through this, he's helped me get through this...this time. I had this for about two months, and it hasn't...it never came off my neck. Well, this case, right now, yes, because I could be going to jail now, to Rikers. And, since I prayed, and prayed, and prayed, I got released. So, thanks to God. I got released. I'm out, out in the world now. Now, I can straighten up my life.&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tara&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 15, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4588706646575494430?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4588706646575494430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4588706646575494430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/07/crack-cocaine-im-addicted-to-crack_2134.html' title='&quot;Crack cocaine. I&apos;m addicted to crack cocaine.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SmNWd5MGJgI/AAAAAAAAB20/_mQfvxhWAK4/s72-c/blog2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5514542175248248835</id><published>2009-07-15T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T09:23:47.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Im doing this to save the world..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SoQ96cN2AII/AAAAAAAAB38/KZl7qBeybso/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SoQ96cN2AII/AAAAAAAAB38/KZl7qBeybso/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369484729948438658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Middle of the road, front of all the cars, Times Square, the taxis are driving fast, cars were running all over the road, right?  I was walking right in the middle of the road, and then a little sparrow came up to me, right? And it flew up, and it was injured. I could tell it was injured 'cause it couldn't fly. It was bouncing all over the road. And, I sort of picked it up like this, then it flew out of my hands and landed right next to me. And, I picked it up again, and a taxi ran right over it. And squished it. The point of the story is that I believe that life is so precious, you know, and you can't waste a single second, 'cause if a sparrow can get...gets killed like that, what about us? About the human population? Everything we do makes a difference. Every single thing that we do, every day in our lives, every second, makes a difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm doing this to save the world, one step at a time. My first step was saving a sparrow the other day, that was the second sparrow, the first sparrow I saved, I took care of it all night, after that, I sent it to the vet and it was saved. I give money to the homeless, I fundraise for the homeless, I'd like to help the sick, I'd like to find the cures for diseases, and if we all work together, if all the doctors and everybody who's willing, who wants to help, works together, then I think we can make a difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was protesting against Donald Trump, because Donald Trump is a monopolist who builds buildings all over New York, and they're ugly, by the way.  Right near his building.  I was laying on the floor. Next to the sign. In the sidewalk. They asked me to get up, and I refused because I absolutely violated no law, I was standing...I was standing...I was laying on the floor and I wasn't doing anything wrong, and they told me to get up because "you're in people's way." Now, if I'm trying to prove a point, I'm in people's way, people walk by, and they notice, so...and then they tried to arrest me. I ran around a little bit so I could get the people's attention, to what's going on in the world, and then, one of the cops stood by me over there, and then ten of them or, I don't know how many cops—undercover, by the way, they weren't in uniform—jumped me from behind, got me on the floor, wrestled with me, I resisted arrest, of course. They maced me, which was okay, it was the first time I was maced in my life, but it didn't hurt that bad, I couldn't see anything for a while, but EMS came and they washed my eyes out, so it was okay. The cops were okay with me, they were fine. I respect the cops, I just want to make a point. And, I think I'm proving that point day by day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"&gt;Maksim&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"&gt;July 15, 2009&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5514542175248248835?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5514542175248248835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5514542175248248835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-doing-this-to-save-world.html' title='&quot;Im doing this to save the world...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SoQ96cN2AII/AAAAAAAAB38/KZl7qBeybso/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6783410214967363333</id><published>2009-06-30T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T16:57:36.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Inner, inner, inner, inner, inner beauty"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SlE91L2_vEI/AAAAAAAAB1g/DowQw_h8oRU/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SlE91L2_vEI/AAAAAAAAB1g/DowQw_h8oRU/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355129415846050882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm here on the 30th. of June for violation of protective ordinance, confessing my love by texting my girlfriend over my text phone, over my phone, confessing my love to her as well as sending her a two page love letter, also confessing my love to her and sending her a 1.5 carat diamond ring as a friendship ring. For that; I have been ordered by the court of New York to appear in court today as well as I spent close to a week in Rikers Island over this whole issue and I blame it all on the love bug and I'm still in love and I would take her back in a heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not necessarily, it seems like she might have got up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. We all have our bad days and I can say that I take my responsibility and I believe in forgiveness, she forgives me, I forgive her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.. filed harassment charges as well as an order of protection and for the violation of order of protection that's why I'm here today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inner, inner, inner, inner, inner beauty as well as outer beauty, intelligence, cultured, sophistication, know how to cook, well groomed, well educated, clean oral hygiene and many more other attributes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her and I miss her dearly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 30, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6783410214967363333?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6783410214967363333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6783410214967363333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/06/inner-inner-inner-inner-inner-beauty.html' title='&quot;Inner, inner, inner, inner, inner beauty&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SlE91L2_vEI/AAAAAAAAB1g/DowQw_h8oRU/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4259282029140160553</id><published>2009-06-01T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T11:58:14.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I never had a license!  And I'm 48!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQku8BAb6I/AAAAAAAAB0g/JGA-WHOOYd4/s1600-h/_DSC5454blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQku8BAb6I/AAAAAAAAB0g/JGA-WHOOYd4/s400/_DSC5454blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342435446771183522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was at BBQ's, the lady is going into labor pains, the person that took her there in her car had to step out, so they wasn't there, I came to 'em, she told me "could you drive me to the hospital?" I drove her to the, I was driving her to the hospital, the officer stops, say, "hey, the windows on the van is too dark." He asked for my driver's license. I say "I don't have one." They get me downtown to the courts and say "you were driving with a suspended license." So, I come to court today, they tell me to go to DMV to get my license straightened out. I never had a license! And I'm 48! So, I don't know what their problem is, but I'm going to DMV, anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I was eating some honey-roasted chicken and french fries. I've been driving all my life. They just gave me a summons and told me to go on, and I paid it. I always have the registration. They just give me a summons and say "listen, just go ahead about your business, pay the summons." Yeah, I'm going down there to get one immediately. Oh, that's easy. I've been driving for over thirty years, I can take the test with my eyes closed. Money's tight right now. Hey, it was easier then, it was easier driving 'cause they never stopped people for their license...the infractions they stop people now is, like, ridiculous. Oh, I always have a car to drive. Never a problem. I know a lot of people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kenneth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 1, 2009.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4259282029140160553?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4259282029140160553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4259282029140160553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-never-had-license-and-im-48_01.html' title='&quot;I never had a license!  And I&apos;m 48!&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQku8BAb6I/AAAAAAAAB0g/JGA-WHOOYd4/s72-c/_DSC5454blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-793827535191456669</id><published>2009-06-01T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T09:40:32.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Perhaps I did, you know, degrade the quality of others' lives…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQDkBe9sbI/AAAAAAAAB0I/A5GfVrWL7J4/s1600-h/_DSC5410blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQDkBe9sbI/AAAAAAAAB0I/A5GfVrWL7J4/s400/_DSC5410blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342398975376732594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wrote on a wall at my university, "I Believe in You," and I was tackled by three undercover police officers, had to spend the night in jail, and now I had a lovely day at court.  And, you know what?  It was quite an experience.  I mean, it was fun, it's kinda silly.  I think, you know, cops really need to reassess their priorities, I mean, it's a bit of chalk.  But I can't complain.  I mean, I did write on a wall, and perhaps I did, you know, degrade the quality of others' lives, as the law seems to stipulate, however, I don't know.  I'll leave it up to the judge to decide, but...it's water-soluble, and I only do it before it rains, so, you know.  I don't write just that, I write whatever sort of comes upon me, but they're always sort of silly inspirational truisms.  I just want to make people happy, I want to create an environment that is much more alive as opposed to just this dead, gray place.  I also plant flowers sort of in inanimate objects sort of around the city.  I'm waiting to be arrested for that.  Hopefully that'll come soon, we'll see.  I don't know, I just want to make people happy, but the law doesn't really agree with that, so, see what happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 1, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-793827535191456669?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/793827535191456669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/793827535191456669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-believe-in-you_01.html' title='&quot;Perhaps I did, you know, degrade the quality of others&apos; lives…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiQDkBe9sbI/AAAAAAAAB0I/A5GfVrWL7J4/s72-c/_DSC5410blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2781731076531756160</id><published>2009-05-31T11:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T14:15:16.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Then I start to sing songs in the prison…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLKEf8IBMI/AAAAAAAABsg/Cp3PVtY_Ttk/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLKEf8IBMI/AAAAAAAABsg/Cp3PVtY_Ttk/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342054286656799938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just walked my dog in the street and the FBI and Service Secret are around in 5th Avenue and 80 Street and a lot of secures there, and are not supposed to pass through there, but I don't know, and the officers asked for my ID and my ID's from my country, and he asked so many questions, and he arrest me and then I come here, when I stay for 38 hours in the jail, and I saw a lot of people there and then I start...I'm a man of God, I start to ask God "why I'm in here, why I'm here for so long," and the Lord say to me "preach my word," and I say "all right," and then I start to sing songs in the prison, and all the prison there start to look at me and listen the words, one prison there, he say "preach the words of Jesus," and then I tell to the other, I say "Lord, why?" and the Lord say "preach," and I preach the words of the Lord in the jail, like, and then I say "and everyone is go home" and one Brazilian guy is coming and this Brazilian tell me his life and then I pray for him and then he give his life to Jesus, and I say "Lord, I'm tired to be here," and the Lord say "remember my words, remember, my son, I'm in the jail, all my disciples in the jail, Peter, Paul, everyone, I send you here because all these people need someone's pray," and I'm in here in this court, like, for almost one year's come every time, every time, and today I put my feet in the court, and I pray to the Lord, say "Lord, today is done," and the judge say "no, you free, you can go," and the case is dismissed, that's all worship, and that I give all glory to the Lord, cause only He is the Lord, and the my service here is done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In 80 and 5th Avenue, it crosses Central Park, and the Service Secret they protect some very important man. I don't know, I don't know his name. Well, in this case, no, because He's the Lord God, He have a mission, no one understand, the Pope, or something, the Lord, and that's the reason I worship Him. They protect the man who working in the...President of some nation, he's important man. No, Jesus, He no need law to protect Him cause He's the son of God, He have a whole power of earth in His hands. No, He protects me from the Service Secret.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mivaldo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 26, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2781731076531756160?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2781731076531756160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2781731076531756160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-just-walked-my-dog-in-street-and-fbi_31.html' title='&quot;Then I start to sing songs in the prison…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLKEf8IBMI/AAAAAAAABsg/Cp3PVtY_Ttk/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4740143629331370894</id><published>2009-05-21T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:49:13.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"They have a vision of a white Harlem…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB8YL52euI/AAAAAAAABkQ/r7kyZmUbpyw/s1600-h/blog1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341405913015548642" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB8YL52euI/AAAAAAAABkQ/r7kyZmUbpyw/s400/blog1.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Hello, world. Hello, New York. In Harlem, they have an agenda. They have a vision of a white Harlem where they're trying to get rid of all the vendors and everybody that's black. And, I got into a problem with three cops in Harlem, P___, R______, and Z___. Now, they confiscated $10,000 worth of Nike shoes from me on September 17, 2008. They wrote me up for vending without a license. That's what they do. And, I beat the case. I came back to the 28th Precinct, they laughed at me, they said "nigga, don't you know what this is? If you're tryin' to get your shit back, you'll wish your mother had an abortion." So, I went with my tail between my legs that day. On the 5th of March...on February 5th. I'm sorry, 4th, February 4th...P___, R______, and Z___ came out again, they took 100 Gucci jackets from me, wrote me up for vending without a license. I beat that case. So, I call Internal Affairs after that, on the 6th, and I just met with Internal Affairs about three days ago. So, now they're gonna lose their pension, messing with me. But, in the meantime, they want to murder me. They put me in jail on the 19th with a guy with full-blown AIDS. A white boy. He stuck me with a needle with fluid in it, and now, 30 days later, I have HIV. This is the type of shit that's going on. New York Police Department, Corrections. So, if you thinking about coming to New York, and you're thinking about doing anything even illegal, or even if it's not illegal, you can get in trouble here just by being black. Just by being in Harlem. And just by having a purpose, they'll run up on you, they want to know who you are. Your fingerprints. They didn't even know I was a veteran. They didn't think I was a veteran 'cause of the way I look. Once they found out I was in the Marine Corps for 12 years, I got the Purple Heart, they're like "oh, Semper Fi!" They want to dismiss things. It's too late now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I'm here to turn myself in for something simple. The prosecutor on the, I think it was the 6th of March, she said "the charge is vending without a license." I produced the license to the judge, and the prosecutor, and my lawyer. She said "I want to give him 10 days." And, the judge was, like, "for what?" She says, "I don't have enough information to dismiss the case." But, she wanted to give me 10 days. She don't have enough information. Here's the license. Here's the license. What did she want to give me 10 days for? That's why I'm coming back here today. I was supposed to come the 30th, but I was incarcerated until the 31st, I get 30 days in Riker's for an assault charge. So, I'm here to get this cleared up. But, what they don't do, they don't vacate warrants when you black. I don't know about white. They keep the warrant on you. So, when the cop asks you for ID, they're, like, "oh, you got a warrant." It's, like, "you crazy. I just got out the system." "No, no, we gotta bring you in." So, that's what happens. They keep the warrant on you. And you gotta go through hell to get it dismissed. So, in conclusion, New York is a terrible place right now, we're in a police state. We're in a Nazi state, whereas black people can't even walk the street. And, oh, yeah, I'm black. I love white people, I've got blond hair, but let's not get it twisted. Right is right, and wrong is wrong. The whole world needs to know what's going on in New York. So...peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have blond hair? You never saw a black blond before? You know, Jesus was blond. Jesus was blond. He looked similar to this. And they hated him. People hate me, too. It's not because I'm ugly, like, take a good look. It's not because I'm ugly. That's not it. It's that I'm so beautiful, it causes people to be uncomfortable. And, I'm beautiful in my mind, body, and soul. But, the great thing about this is people part like the Red Sea when I walk through. People on my right, people on my left. Now, the people on my right are my friends. They love it. People on my left are the ones who don't love it. And, sometimes I get physically attacked. Physically assaulted by the way I look. But I'm not giving it up because if I could cause a reaction to where you want to physically attack me then I must be doing something right. Because if you've got the nerve to put your hands on someone, you got serious issues. I don't have the issues. You have the issues. If I attacked everybody that I didn't like the way they looked, where would I be? You understand? So, I'm not gonna change a thing. And I wear gold tattoos, too. I am 99 percent Jesus. I'm one percent Cream. See, the ingredients to Creamology is 99 percent Christ, one percent Cream. See, Christ, if you punch him in the face, he'll turn the other cheek. If you punch me in my face, I'mma kill you. Another thing about Christ, he didn't get out to the females. I get out to the females. That's the only difference between me and Jesus. I'm righteous and I'm holy. I may swear every now and then, but I get on my knees and ask for forgiveness. So, I'm not Jesus. Anybody that tells you they're Jesus is a liar. The devil is a liar. There's only one Jesus. And he ain't came yet, but he's coming soon to remedy all these problems, all these issues that we have. Got that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Roville&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;May 21, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4740143629331370894?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4740143629331370894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4740143629331370894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/hello-world.html' title='&quot;They have a vision of a white Harlem…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB8YL52euI/AAAAAAAABkQ/r7kyZmUbpyw/s72-c/blog1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2287109390543376544</id><published>2009-05-18T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T14:16:22.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You might have to fight for your sneakers…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiAEZnCG6_I/AAAAAAAABjY/b4KcOBVLKbs/s1600-h/blog.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiAEZnCG6_I/AAAAAAAABjY/b4KcOBVLKbs/s400/blog.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341273996082473970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're definitely a status symbol. Not that that's what I'm going for but they definitely give you the idea that the person was in fact in jail, the person was in fact incarcerated. Definitely. Definitely. As well as the shoes and my lack of a belt also; all of it gives you you know. Someone would see me and it gives you off the jump that I came from jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To some people I think it's just a fashion statement. That's how some people choose to wear their pants. It's a style, it's a fad that maybe one or two people started and it's followed. Even though it originates from being in jail and not being allowed to wear your pants. Like myself if I was to stand up straight and walk a few feet you would be able to notice that my pants would not be able to stay on my waist they would actually fall off. So the idea did come from jail you know and I guess people carried it on to the streets even though you have a belt you still decide to wear them below your waist. Which to me is quite uncomfortable. Me being young and it's been in style for years I even catch myself doing it, even unintentionally where someone has to remind me to pick up your pants. Oh, ok I'm bogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are actually jail issued sneakers that you get because when you enter the jail your property is taken and your sneakers are taken. People argue about who has the better sneakers and people are getting hurt and even killed over the issue of sneakers they come in jail with. I might have a $145 pair and you might have a $20 pair and might decide you might want my $145 pair and I might need to fight. The sad thing is as that as time go on I don't want to say it became a fad, it became a style. It became kind of like automatic you might have to fight for your sneakers, which is usually the first thing another inmate might try to take from you. They might ask you nicely first, "let me get those. Let me give you a couple of soups, which only cost 35 cents." Let me give you some of my commissary for your sneakers, you know.Me personally I'm actually happy that you don't have to come in with your own sneakers, that you can have jail issued. It's kind of like a uniform in a way. That's one less thing to argue about. I think it was a good idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I myself refuse to get on the train with the jail issued shoes because it's quite embarrassing. They also have orange issued sneakers. I've seen all different colored jail shoes. I've seen black. I've seen orange. I've seen dark blue. I've seen dark purple. I don't think none of them are cool. I don't even like the idea of wearing them. To be real I don't like them. Some people want you to know they're been locked up. They definitely want you to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Steven&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 18. 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2287109390543376544?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2287109390543376544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2287109390543376544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/theyre-definitely-status-symbol.html' title='&quot;You might have to fight for your sneakers…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiAEZnCG6_I/AAAAAAAABjY/b4KcOBVLKbs/s72-c/blog.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8431478621788435203</id><published>2009-05-15T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T11:27:09.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They thought I was someone I wasn't."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiBkJQcUc3I/AAAAAAAABjw/Cj3GfNlNvns/s1600-h/blog-1.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiBkJQcUc3I/AAAAAAAABjw/Cj3GfNlNvns/s400/blog-1.jpg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341379268256756594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a case of mistaken identity. What happened was they accused me of something I didn't do. They thought I was someone I wasn't. You know each time that I kept repeating my own plea to the officers you know I told them I'm not this person who you think I am, they kept coming at me and said but this person and that person said that you're this person. I was like ok. You know what cause I obey the law and I understand that the law has its place, its own provocative permission. But I told like this, I was like look, "You got proof?" They said, "they got witnesses." I was like look, "I am not this person, I will never be this person, no matter how hard, no matter how high I'll never be that person." I did my part you know. I went upstairs, said hello to a couple of people. In between it all you know what I found out? That the majority of people that are locked up are locked up over nonsense. You know what I'm saying? There's a lot more to do in this world then to harass the little man, then to bother the person who cannot even fend for themselves. You know truth and nails, what the fuck they want from us? Want they just cut our wrists off you know. What the fuck they want? We're nibbling on our forearms right now. I'll bite my own elbows for them. And they're still not happy. You know what I tell them, I tell them nothing, I do whatever the fuck they want, because I'm a slave to them, I'm a slave to these bitches they fucking own me. See that. The courts own me. So what am I gonna do man. Twenty times a day I still pay my taxes. I still represent. What do I represent? A living, breathing free man. What is that accumulated for? To be a free man. It means shit in this world. The only thing that talks is money. And I don't hate money but I hate what money does to people. Mother makes a mother fucker evil inside. People don't understand that shit. I'd rather be poor , brokeless, I'd rather have two cents in my pocket then have a hundred million dollars in the bank. Because the reality of it is, when you get money you get fucking stupid and you start looking at people like you're better than them. You start looking down on people. You think your aggression is real nah. You think your money is tight. The reality of it is there's so many people out here man fucking hurting. The middle man is carrying the weight for you mother fuckers. We're the middle men.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dave&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 15, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8431478621788435203?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8431478621788435203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8431478621788435203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/dave-c.html' title='&quot;They thought I was someone I wasn&apos;t.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiBkJQcUc3I/AAAAAAAABjw/Cj3GfNlNvns/s72-c/blog-1.jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5800350770302424894</id><published>2009-05-01T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:48:03.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"A police officer approached me. She was undercover."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB7pcDxL5I/AAAAAAAABkI/GWkD5vPrPII/s1600-h/blog-3.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341405109898260370" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB7pcDxL5I/AAAAAAAABkI/GWkD5vPrPII/s400/blog-3.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;I got arrested for selling cocaine and heroin to an undercover police officer. Lower East Side. I was hanging out on the Lower East Side. A police officer approached me. She was undercover. Asked me, said she was dope sick. Said that she needed to cop. She said she knew a guy named Mike ..... who happens to be a good friend of mine. Using her name I called the drug dealer that I know. I copped the dope for her. She gave me, she promised me a bag of dope for getting the dope for her. After I gave her the dope I was arrested for selling heroin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Matthew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;May 1, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5800350770302424894?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5800350770302424894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5800350770302424894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-got-arrested-for-selling-cocaine-and.html' title='&quot;A police officer approached me. She was undercover.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB7pcDxL5I/AAAAAAAABkI/GWkD5vPrPII/s72-c/blog-3.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4022722003500464876</id><published>2009-05-01T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:50:11.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Yeah he's a real asshole."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB6XOE-EII/AAAAAAAABkA/TlKMhKQUyu8/s1600-h/blog-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341403697395929218" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB6XOE-EII/AAAAAAAABkA/TlKMhKQUyu8/s400/blog-2.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;I'm trying to like get rid of a domestic partnership. Void it. And also I'm trying to vacate a warrant that I got for hopping the turnstile. I just jumped over the turnstile to get on the train without paying. They gave me a ticket. I couldn't pay it. And now I have a warrant. It will be if like I get picked up by the police or something. So that's why I want to get rid of it. It was like a hundred dollars which is pretty ridiculous I think. I mean obviously I didn't have money to get on the train. Hopefully they'll give me community service or something I dunno try to work something out. Maybe a payment plan, they do that a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Oh the domestic partnership. Yeah I dunno I just, it's probably going to be pretty uncomfortable. Me and my ex boyfriend got one for housing reasons I guess a year ago or something. I really want to get rid of it. I haven't seen him in six months. I don't really want to see him but they need both our signatures. Yeah he's a real asshole.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Yeah I write. I'm a writer. Like auto biographical short stories. I wrote a lot about traveling. I hitchhiked across the country. I hopped a freight train and stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Naomi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;May 1, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4022722003500464876?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4022722003500464876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4022722003500464876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-trying-to-like-get-rid-of-domestic.html' title='&quot;Yeah he&apos;s a real asshole.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB6XOE-EII/AAAAAAAABkA/TlKMhKQUyu8/s72-c/blog-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4439889414609262425</id><published>2009-04-17T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:50:46.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I don't know why they took me to jail. "</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB9Asp1lBI/AAAAAAAABkY/v9wz5yTUNig/s1600-h/blog-4.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341406609001518098" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB9Asp1lBI/AAAAAAAABkY/v9wz5yTUNig/s400/blog-4.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 265px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;I was facing three charges, one was disorderly conduct and the other was a fare beat, and um, and assault with. First the assault with the weapon was grand larceny the first time I was arrested and then once I got out of the Tombs, jail, it turned into assault with a deadly weapon. They thought I stole the drill at first, they didn't understand the guy that was talking to them. There was a locksmith in my building. The cops didn't understand that he was trying to say that somebody there called the cops I mean called the locksmith on them. I'm not really sure cause I didn't hear his side of the story. Assault with a deadly weapon. I got arrested by the same arresting officer twice. That same day. Basically the same area. Right in my neighborhood. First it was grand larceny and then it tuned into assault with a deadly weapon cause I supposedly took the drill and threatened his head or something. The locksmith. I don't know. I have no idea who he was. I can't really say much more cause I don't really know; anything. I don't know why they took me to jail. That's why it was dropped, I guess. I didn't do anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;The farebeat, that was because I swiped my card and it keep on saying you know, swipe again here, swipe again here. I swiped again at a different turnstile and it said insufficient funds. But I already checked the two cards that I had. One had two fifty and one had eighteen dollars on it. The two fifty one is the one I used. And then once it said insufficient funds I figured it took the money and I made eye contact with the police so, it's not like, I just figured I'd tell them you know, it just said insufficient fare and I and I did check before. The second time he was kind of rude. He was very rude. He arrested me. I don't remember how it exactly went down. But the people in his precinct actually said he was kid of a hot head. He said something. He knew who I was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;He was just in my building and he asked me for my ID because he needs an ID to get into the basement. I'm like. It's not my basement and he took my wallet out of my hands. I said to him, "You're going to jail" because he kicked me as I was leaving. I said, "You're going to jail." I kind of scared him I guess. I didn't have any intention on calling the police. But he called the police I guess. The police had him in the car and they were turning and I waved them down. I didn't realize he was already in the car. If I hadn't waved them down they wouldn't have even came over to me and then they arrested me and I realized he was in the back seat and he had already told them his, whatever story. He can't really speak very good English so they didn't understand a word he said so they arrested me for grand larceny for stealing his drill. I never stole a drill though. Where is the drill? The drill is still in his car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Anthony&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;April 17, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-footer" style="color: #e6e6e6; font: normal normal normal 78%/normal 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1em; line-height: 1.4em; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.75em; text-transform: uppercase;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4439889414609262425?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4439889414609262425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4439889414609262425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-was-facing-three-charges-one-was_17.html' title='&quot;I don&apos;t know why they took me to jail. &quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiB9Asp1lBI/AAAAAAAABkY/v9wz5yTUNig/s72-c/blog-4.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8311883630703641471</id><published>2009-04-17T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T17:23:08.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I broke his nose and there were cops like right around the corner."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEcw1PQJPI/AAAAAAAABko/dIwjZmYwF7M/s1600-h/blog.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEcw1PQJPI/AAAAAAAABko/dIwjZmYwF7M/s400/blog.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341582258288469234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 17px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I got into a fight because somebody, this guy punched my girlfriend and we were out and it was just a quick reaction I think and I just punched him back, I broke his nose and there were cops like right around the corner. It was a quick fight and we just got booked, that's pretty much what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was just being drunk and he she kinda like pushed him without I mean walking by like tried to make space and the guy thought like she did it on purpose. She spilled a little bit of his drink and he just like turned around and grabbed her by the hair, pushed her away and that's what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very quick. It wasn't like a big deal but there was people right there. It was like the outside of, you know where they put the little chain so people can go outside and smoke and everything. So it was like outside the place. Yeah that's what happened really quick. It happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Nicholas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;April 17, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8311883630703641471?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8311883630703641471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8311883630703641471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-got-into-fight-because-somebody-this.html' title='&quot;I broke his nose and there were cops like right around the corner.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEcw1PQJPI/AAAAAAAABko/dIwjZmYwF7M/s72-c/blog.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4602660039852340702</id><published>2009-04-14T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T17:23:53.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I busted their windshield. And then they wanted to kill me."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEd5hWKE4I/AAAAAAAABkw/ex1F-5Zdaow/s1600-h/blog.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEd5hWKE4I/AAAAAAAABkw/ex1F-5Zdaow/s400/blog.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341583507079172994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My name is Kris, and I am coming to court because I was standing on Houston Street, at two o'clock in the morning, there was nobody around, this dump truck rolls up, lays on his horn, so loud! And I just grabbed a trash bag, and I...before I realized it was full of bottles, I was kind of halfway through the motion of chucking it at their truck, and I busted their windshield. And then they wanted to kill me. And luckily, they didn't. So I could come to court. That's why I'm at court today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, they called the cops. Well, I ran, but they found me. Around the corner. Well, I kind of thought they were talking to the cops, so I figured that I was okay. And I was kind of out of breath because I smoke a lot, so I didn't really go that far. I should've just gotten a cab and gone home. But I didn't. And I spent 36 hours in central booking for that fucking damn fucking windshield. Sucks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's going to happen. We'll see what happens. Don't give a shit. At least I was down in central booking for something that I give a shit about. Don't make fucking noise for no reason! I'm a driver, too. If I don't have to pay for anything, I still had to spend 36 hours downtown. So, I already paid for it, as far as I'm concerned. Because, had I not gone to jail and not had to pay for anything, then yes, because, you know something? When I got out that Sunday afternoon, I was at the bar again, the bar I work at, and when they rolled up to pick up the trash, they didn't lay on their horn, and that's all I ask. There's no need. There's no need for just absolutely no, you know, just cause of honking. I mean, yes, if someone's in danger, honk. There's even a sign, "Honk Only for Danger." And, people don't give a shit. Do you want me to take a fucking giant truck into your mother's driveway and lay on the horn at two o'clock in the morning? Is that what you want? I'll do that. That's fine. That's what you're doing when you lay on your horn at two o'clock in the morning for no fucking reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Kris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;April 14, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4602660039852340702?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4602660039852340702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4602660039852340702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-name-is-kris-and-i-am-coming-to.html' title='&quot;I busted their windshield. And then they wanted to kill me.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEd5hWKE4I/AAAAAAAABkw/ex1F-5Zdaow/s72-c/blog.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7954643954328138751</id><published>2009-04-13T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:51:18.461-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I hit him with a stick. Okay?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEe0HbRhQI/AAAAAAAABk4/e57UwpNZlUc/s1600-h/blog2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341584513733592322" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEe0HbRhQI/AAAAAAAABk4/e57UwpNZlUc/s400/blog2.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Yeah, my neighbor's boyfriend—she's Korean, he's, I think he's Italian—what happened was on February the eleventh, he kicked my door, then he threw me down and I hit him with a stick. Okay? I had to spend 24 hours over here, at this area over here, I was taken to Midtown South, 35th Street, 8th Avenue, the police station over there, I'm sure you've heard of it. And I had to come over here, like, around 3:30 in the morning, about 3:15 in the morning, I was here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;And, they listen to my comings and goings from the hallway, when I leave my apartment, they become very loud, they stage arguments, she's running around and saying that I saw her nude through her window, which is not true, because their windows are...they have venetian blinds on their windows, and you can't even see through their apartment because they're so filthy-dirty, put their garbage and everything else over there, and this is what it is. And, I hit the guy with a stick because he threw me down. And, the police officers arrested me on Wednesday night, February the eleventh, year 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Yes, I hit him with a stick. I did. Because he did what he did first...I said to you just a second ago, he kicks my door, and he threw me down, and I fell down on my ladder that I have in the hallway. There's a big ladder that I have in the hallway at home. I had a stick that I had to protect myself just in case of anybody tries to come after me, 'cause I'm not the best fighter in the world. But, they're terrible people, I've called the police 50 times on them, and everything else. Same building. Same floor. Well, I have to go down the fire escape sometimes to check the draining systems on the roof, because when it rains they...it clogs up with these office buildings throwing garbage down on to the roof. That's what happens. They throw garbage down to the roof, and it's, you know, plastic bags and all this other stuff. You know what I'm saying? They stage arguments to make me believe that they're not getting along...they get along, they live together, the boyfriend leaves for work at 7 a.m. in the morning, now every morning, never used to until just recently. I have to leave my radio on, too, because they're very loud, they woke me up at 11:45 yesterday morning, and everything else. And, they're loud. You know what I'm saying? They talk near my door on the cell phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;I have to...but, the thing is, when I go down the fire escape their windows are there. Now, I can't help that. I was...that building was built a long time ago, back in the 1800s, it's an old building, it's a walk-up, and I'm on the fourth floor, they're on the fourth floor. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to NOT do it, or whatever it is? You know what I'm saying? They just yell and scream at one another, you can't understand it, she's got such a big mouth, this...neighbor of mine. She's Korean, I don't know what he...I think he's Italian, he told me he was Italian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Well, I have to go back to court again on the 15th of June. They have an order of protection against me right now, because of the stick-hitting. Eventually, they're gonna have to show up in court, because they're making up stories that are not true. First of all, if I did something like that to your wives, I'm sure that you would be smart enough to call the police, have me arrested for it, I mean, that's supposed to be an arrest factor. I mean, if you look at somebody nude, in their apartment, you're supposed to be arrested for this. You know what I'm saying? You're supposed to be arrested. I was never arrested for that charge, because they made it all up. The boyfriend made it up, she made it up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Richard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;April 13, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7954643954328138751?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7954643954328138751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7954643954328138751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/04/yeah-my-neighbors-boyfriendshes-korean.html' title='&quot;I hit him with a stick. Okay?&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEe0HbRhQI/AAAAAAAABk4/e57UwpNZlUc/s72-c/blog2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7705438079276112218</id><published>2009-02-09T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:51:45.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Yeah, I think I'm Superman."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEh4_2s3-I/AAAAAAAABlA/LOIXqs50BK4/s1600-h/_DSC1678.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341587896135376866" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEh4_2s3-I/AAAAAAAABlA/LOIXqs50BK4/s400/_DSC1678.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;I came in here at 9:30 in the morning, right? I sat here for three hours, waiting for them to call my name in court, they don't call my name. Then he says "these people didn't hear their name called," whatever, he says my name so I started going up, he says "no, sit down." Calls these peoples names, whose name they never...who didn't hear called, I was the first one, right? So then, I guess, he put me on the bottom of the pile, and he still didn't call my name, and then they broke for lunch at, like, what? 1:00. Said "come back at 2:15." Th' hell, y'know? I was in that courtroom for three hours. I never heard my name called. Y'know? It was an atrocity. I couldn't do anything about it. What'm I gonna do? I'm in court, for God's sake. What'd I do? I went to Starbucks. What was my charge? Harassment. Well, there was a guy on the Lower East Side, I punched him in the mouth. He tortured me for five months, and I punched him in the mouth. I don't know, whatever...whatever he was doing...they call me a paranoid-schizophrenic, see? So, they say I'm just paranoid, but I know otherwise. Yeah, I think I'm Superman. I don't give a shit. I am George Wallace, my mother was born...my mother died on January 15th, which is Martin Luther King's birthday. I am a friend to the black man. That's what I'm known for. I told you, tortured me for five months. He's just into my thoughts, he was...he screamed a lot. Very angry, really got on my nerves. I don't know what it is...for some reason, they're jerking me around, I don't know why. I'm not calling it a conspiracy, I'd like to get that whoever that guy is calling the names, I'd like to get him by the throat. That cop who's calling out the names. Clerk, or whatever his name is. Like to jerk his ass around. I tell you, I'm gonna give him another half hour to call my name, then I'm gonna go up there and start some shit. No, I'm just kidding. Just kidding. I just hope they call my name, you know, I can get the hell out of here. I'm probably gonna go up there, they're gonna say "oh, it's dismissed," you know? I've been to court three times already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;George&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;February 9, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7705438079276112218?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7705438079276112218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7705438079276112218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-came-in-here-at-930-in-morning-right.html' title='&quot;Yeah, I think I&apos;m Superman.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEh4_2s3-I/AAAAAAAABlA/LOIXqs50BK4/s72-c/_DSC1678.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4603745153390648845</id><published>2009-02-03T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:52:07.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I was watching my friend fight, so nobody would jump her"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEihoZqZnI/AAAAAAAABlI/E76SXHVhI6o/s1600-h/blog-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341588594214200946" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEihoZqZnI/AAAAAAAABlI/E76SXHVhI6o/s400/blog-1.jpg.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 266px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Fighting and the person that, like, was...he saw me when he got locked up and he told them that I was fighting, and I just got locked up. No...I was watching my friend fight, so nobody would jump her. Over "he said/she said," stuff like that. Well, I go to school, I'm not in school right now because I have to do court and counseling, so...I study business and tech. You can catch the fight on YouTube, actually. Well, you know people like to record fights nowadays. One of the girls from they side. It's a good fight. It's interesting. It was a right-left, and you just gotta catch the rest. "Girls are going to gag." I'm a nice person, at times. When I'm in the mood. Like, around this time. I'm in a good mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Sharae&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: 20px;"&gt;February 3, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4603745153390648845?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4603745153390648845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4603745153390648845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/02/fighting-and-person-that-like-was.html' title='&quot;I was watching my friend fight, so nobody would jump her&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEihoZqZnI/AAAAAAAABlI/E76SXHVhI6o/s72-c/blog-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6722700762857813711</id><published>2009-02-02T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:23:09.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm from Northern California. Everyone smokes marijuana"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjU3r2AxI/AAAAAAAABlQ/cwr1sz8iEKA/s1600-h/blog-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjU3r2AxI/AAAAAAAABlQ/cwr1sz8iEKA/s400/blog-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341589474490319634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I was arrested for smoking marijuana in the west village on the street about three weeks ago. Um and we were picked up by undercover cops, we actually finished smoking the bowl, left turned the corner and then two people walked right next to us and said, "Mam can we talk to you for a second" and it was over from there. I'm from Northern California. Everyone smokes marijuana. My father smokes. We smoke on the street all the time. Not really a big deal. Didn't think it would happened. Ended up going back to the precinct and because I was a woman and I wasn't able to go into the cell with the other guys I was handcuffed and ankle cuffed to a bench for five and one half hours not able to move in a really ridiculous pants suit with these kind of like shady guys. It was ridiculous, strange. The cops were giving them cigarettes. That was weird too. They were all smoking in the precinct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were going out. We were going out dancing. I was wearing this like seventies high waisted striped like bell bottom huge bright bright neon stripped pants suit. It was good. Probably why we got caught, they saw my colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm smoking pot back at home or in California. On the street. Cops have better things to do. Be careful, be more careful I guess and really yeah smoke in your place here in New York, the cops even said that, "they were like it's not a big deal just smoke in your house, you can't do it on the street".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Nena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;February 2, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6722700762857813711?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6722700762857813711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6722700762857813711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-was-arrested-for-smoking-marijuana-in.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m from Northern California. Everyone smokes marijuana&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjU3r2AxI/AAAAAAAABlQ/cwr1sz8iEKA/s72-c/blog-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-756834639874528635</id><published>2009-01-30T05:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T17:57:22.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You feel big, you feel like you're on top."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjxGSkTlI/AAAAAAAABlY/1UDRlOvsxaw/s1600-h/blog-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjxGSkTlI/AAAAAAAABlY/1UDRlOvsxaw/s400/blog-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341589959447170642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I got arrested for graffiti in May, so I'm coming here now for community service. I do graffiti, used to do graffiti for the fame, friends, I dunno. For the rush too, that's pretty much it. It's like you feel like you're all-star, like everyone loves you. You feel big, you feel like you're on top. They do it for the rush and the fame. To get there you have to go all city. Have something in every borough. All city that's what it's called. Bombings, fillings, tags. Bombing is pretty much just the act of it. Going out at night, in a car or on foot, just having cans on you and doing fillings, tags, whatever. You gotta be all city. You have to have tags, fillings, everything in every borough, everywhere. (I was) a little below all city. I was up there for awhile. Maybe 20 or 30 maybe, out of thousands of kids that do it. If you go around and see this guy somewhere and you go to Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island, you see them everywhere then you just know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about Marines, Navy. I'm not sure yet though. Being out at night, you're more aware of what's going on, you're listening to things so you can probably use that in the military, be more aware of your surroundings. If you heard something you be instincts, you'd be more aware of what's going on. You'd be a better shot. Doing graffiti would like make you a like a better shot, because you're more aware of your surroundings at night and more aware of what's going on and you have better reflexes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not doing it anymore, I'm done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joseph&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;January 30, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-756834639874528635?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/756834639874528635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/756834639874528635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-got-arrested-for-graffiti-in-may-so.html' title='&quot;You feel big, you feel like you&apos;re on top.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEjxGSkTlI/AAAAAAAABlY/1UDRlOvsxaw/s72-c/blog-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8038785305650373707</id><published>2008-12-29T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T12:04:42.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"He banged my head on the floor and I was scared for my life."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEkQsSrz8I/AAAAAAAABlg/8z6lvYa9Gug/s1600-h/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="320" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341590502224154562" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEkQsSrz8I/AAAAAAAABlg/8z6lvYa9Gug/s320/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well what brings me here is the petty theft accusations which is all a misunderstanding, because my true intentions was not to steal. I was thinking a lot. I basically had the item in my hand and I had to go to an event at Marquee and I just rushed out the store not thinking and basically I didn't realize I had the item in my hand till I was a block away. As soon as I was about to turn the security guard just basically told me, what "I'm going to do with it" and basically wanted me to like um, accusing me of thieving and I'm just saying, "no I didn't take it. It was an accident, I was not thinking, I just walked out the store." And um basically as soon as I gave him back the item and told him, "oh I'm so sorry about that, I'm not a thief or anything." he started choking me and I started saying, "ok what are you doing? Why are you choking me?" So I started like wrestling him and then he was like, "well we're going to take you to jail." I said, "well you can't take me to jail because I didn't mean to steal, I'm not like a thief or anything." So as soon as he started choking me I took my elbow and started hitting him. Then all of a sudden we started wrestling. I don't know what happened, I started like basically hitting him back and I had my boots and I started kicking him and um we was wrestling into the middle of the street and in the street he banged my head on the floor and I was scared for my life. So I flipped him and started running away and he caught me and started nailing me and then he started punching me in the face with my glasses on and then my eyes were really damaged and I started like grabbed his balls and twisting, he started screaming and I like punched him in his face and then I started screaming for help, "this guys attacking me." Some British guy came out of nowhere started calling the cops. Next thing you know like he nails me again and then two people grab me and they pulled me on the floor. It had to take another person to hold me down and then he starting handcuffing me with these plastic stupid handcuffs and next thing you know I'm taken in and then I have to go to jail for some stupid stuff. They charged me with a felony, robbery which I think was ridiculous for a tank top. So they charged me with a misdemeanor, they gave me a deal the judge and now I have to do community service. I feel that um, my true intentions was wasn't to steal I'm not a thief, but I feel like I wasn't thinking. It was a stupid mistake. Let me just deal with it. It's the law and you know that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnathan&lt;br /&gt;December 29, 2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8038785305650373707?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8038785305650373707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8038785305650373707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-what-brings-me-here-is-petty-theft.html' title='&quot;He banged my head on the floor and I was scared for my life.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEkQsSrz8I/AAAAAAAABlg/8z6lvYa9Gug/s72-c/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8404146493504885998</id><published>2008-12-02T05:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:29:51.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I threw it at the twelve cops that I saw, it was a dozen donuts, a dozen cops."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElDw8gtFI/AAAAAAAABlw/I6pDWaY51YE/s1600-h/blog-3.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElDw8gtFI/AAAAAAAABlw/I6pDWaY51YE/s400/blog-3.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341591379646657618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I was arrested in September I believe basically for throwing donuts at cops. We were protesting the decibel, it was a federal case of decibel levels of amplified sound during political musical events. I could scream and play acoustic guitar louder than the amplified sound that they had. They wanted seventy decibels at one hundred feet, which is like into a vacuum cleaner at ten feet. The ambient noise of a crowd of several hundred people which there were at that particular event is louder than the actual amplified sound that they wanted to allow us, so we're in court over this. The event was called the donut social, in which case I was wasted drunk playing Leftover Crack, Star Fucking Hipsters and Choking Victims songs for a crowd of several hundred kids. They couldn't hear me and at some point a box of donuts was passed over to me from the crowd. I wasn't going to eat it, I wasn't going to throw it at the kids so I threw it at the twelve cops that I saw, it was a dozen donuts, a dozen cops. The last donut slid within a foot of the last officers foot. My aim got good by the end of the throwing. They charged me with harassment, resisting arrest and disorderly conduct. I didn't have any weapon, I had a guitar. Donut? I considering it littering. They considered it harassment. They kept berating me saying, "how dare you throw garbage at us." I was like you just throw bullets at innocent people every day. I don't think there was any harm done. Probably if the donut slid another foot and touched the officers shoe I probably would be accused of assault with a donut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the lyrics that was brought up was a chorus to a song called Crack Rock Steady. Crack Rock Steady is a choking victims song that I sang at the event and they quoted that at my trial. They quoted me saying, "kill the police, kill the police."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the line is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; Crack Rock Steady are you ready to stop the rotten blue menace, lets go kill us some cops, crack rock steady are you ready? Living above the law!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; We also played a song one dead cop,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Power abuse; authority misuse. They kill and rape and it won’t be on the news. But you’re the good one With the badge and a gun. Braggin’ how you blasted gunshot forty-one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; In relation to the Amadou Diallo shooting and killing, murdering by the police.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Scott&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;December 2, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8404146493504885998?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8404146493504885998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8404146493504885998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-was-arrested-in-september-i-believe.html' title='&quot;I threw it at the twelve cops that I saw, it was a dozen donuts, a dozen cops.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElDw8gtFI/AAAAAAAABlw/I6pDWaY51YE/s72-c/blog-3.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-790549591709787417</id><published>2008-11-24T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:32:08.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Herb enhances the soul, enhances the mind, enhances the body."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElvrHCm8I/AAAAAAAABmA/PV7MbCpUtTE/s1600-h/blog-4.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElvrHCm8I/AAAAAAAABmA/PV7MbCpUtTE/s400/blog-4.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341592133994453954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I'm here today you know giving an interview and everything about what happened to me. You know the day when I got arrested and had to go to court and everything. You know I was there outside of Union Square talking to a friend of mine and next thing I know we're sitting there talking and everything and he pulls out a bag, bag of bud, bag of herb on him. You know he's telling me, "you wanna smoke?" and like I tell him, "I'm good right now" because I had to go. Next thing I know some D's, they come over there, some detectives they run up on him. You know what I'm saying? Then I'm walking away at this point you know because I got my herb on me. Next thing I know they turn around and run up on me and then they search me and violate my fourth amendment you know which is which is my right not to have my persons searched and seized without a warrant so they went ahead and did that and violated that so then they found the herb on me and so they took that and tried to get me for sales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main thing too, which was one of the big points I'm trying to push is that the fact that my religious right was violated you know what I'm saying because I practice Rastafarian belief and there's supposed to be freedom of religion in this country and I smoked the herbs, you know it's not smoking the herb to be a cool thing or anything like this because it's what kids do or anything to do with that. I smoke the herb because the herb comes from the earth and I smoke this because this is part of the intelligent nature, the one state of mind, the one love, everything that is about that, has to do with peace, has to do with harmony, has to be at one with nature, you know what I'm saying? Thats the plain consciousness that just happens into when you inhale the earth into your body. You know what I'm saying? Nobody ever died off it. You know. It's one of the most unbelievable medicines we have on the planet. You know what I'm saying? And just the fact that so many people use it. You know what I'm saying? You have cigarettes out there. You have alcohol out there, which kills people, kills the soul, kills the mind, kills the body. Herb enhances the soul, enhances the mind, enhances the body, has so many benefits to human kind that it's unbelievable so you know that's what I'm trying to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Kenny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 24, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-790549591709787417?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/790549591709787417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/790549591709787417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-here-today-you-know-giving-interview.html' title='&quot;Herb enhances the soul, enhances the mind, enhances the body.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiElvrHCm8I/AAAAAAAABmA/PV7MbCpUtTE/s72-c/blog-4.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2061377290933500034</id><published>2008-11-21T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:33:32.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>" He was like a bully. He came over and grabbed her ass…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmWeYJuZI/AAAAAAAABmI/xM_kyFRY8XM/s1600-h/blog-6.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmWeYJuZI/AAAAAAAABmI/xM_kyFRY8XM/s400/blog-6.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341592800591460754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I had a little altercation last March in a bar in Midtown where I live. Big guy, bully, drunk, obnoxious. Some tourists, three girls from Hawaii were there and I was taking pictures of them and all this and I guess he had an eye out for one of the girls who I was talking to, I mean she could have been my wife for all he knew, but he didn't care. He was like a bully. He came over and grabbed her ass and she said, "would you please remove your hand from my ass." I didn't say nothing. I didn't know what was really happening and he looked at me and said, "you're fucking dead." Because I, you know, he was jealous or whatever the hell even though they all left alone. I ended up in jail because of this. So he walked by back and forth saying, "hurry up and finish your drink, uh you're dead, this guy is dead" and all this and he's a big guy and I'm not, I'm five eight, I weigh one hundred and forty two pounds and uh I was drinking vodka and cranberry that night and I had a half a drink left and he said, "I hope you enjoy the rest of that drink because when that drink's done you're dead" and he went outside and smoked a cigarette and I, I don't know if I was just irate by what he said or I was scared and I was scared and I wasn't taking shit because if you live in New York you learn you don't take shit and I walked right at him and I, there some were trash bags out there and I pushed him over the trash bags onto eighth avenue and I had a knife. I'm from Maine and you're just accustomed to carrying pocket knives so whatever and I pulled it on him and I said, "ok now we're the same size, what are you going to do now?" and his eyes bulged out of his head. Well of course I'm not going to kill the guy, I mean I'm just trying to scare him you know. I put the knife away and he flipped out. Anyway cops came and they put me in jail, you know and I was just minding my own business, just having a drink after work and in a matter of fifteen minutes this whole sort of thing happened. They put me in jail, they put me in a cell with thirty nine other guys. I'm originally from New England. I, unfortunately had a world champion Boston Red Sox shirt on that day. I was a minority in that cell and there were a lot of Yankee fans from the Bronx. It was just a rough twenty four hours in jail and so I get community no I got anger management classes, I have to go to anger management class, I've completed. I'm not angry, I just got angry that night and then I just had to pay this fine. It's costing me like around you know, you have to pay for anger management class, it's costing like you know, four hundred and fifty dollars around there all together with everything and it's just been a pain in the ass and I've never even had a speeding ticket in my life. I've never done anything wrong and this happens. I'm down, I'm in jail. It's just been a character builder, we'll put it that way. I guess I did learn a lesson though I will walk away because you don't want to get thrown down in the tombs in New York City. It's not a pleasant place to be and uh that's it, fine paid, now I'll carry on, this is over but that guy had everything coming to him that I did to him; period. "You're an asshole if he's watching this, end of story, goodbye."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 21, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2061377290933500034?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2061377290933500034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2061377290933500034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-had-little-altercation-last-march-in.html' title='&quot; He was like a bully. He came over and grabbed her ass…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmWeYJuZI/AAAAAAAABmI/xM_kyFRY8XM/s72-c/blog-6.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5152847808520216033</id><published>2008-11-17T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:38:35.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Him and I were involved in an altercation. He called the cops."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmw-tD-CI/AAAAAAAABmQ/601qdBk9TTE/s1600-h/blog2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmw-tD-CI/AAAAAAAABmQ/601qdBk9TTE/s400/blog2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341593255945697314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I'm fulfilling a court obligation to uh, I was convicted today of misdemeanor, assault yeah that's what it was on a cab driver. Circumstances are I was out with friends we were drinking and the cab driver gave us a ride. He was trying to rip us off. Well he uh, we only paid about, I only paid eighty percent of the bill because that's what I felt, what the price was because we had taken the cab a couple of times at that time of the night and he had taken us about three blocks south of where we needed to be and we never ended up getting there so I asked him to pull over. The bill was about thirteen dollars and I gave him nine I think and I said, "this is what I'm going to pay you because this is what it usually is." and he flipped out. There were two girls in the back seat. I got out of the car, opened the door for the girls to get out and he sped away with the girls in the car and I sprinted after him. He crashed, he actually crashed the cab too, this is the best part he crashed the cab into another car and it slammed shut and that's when I flipped out. I ran over to him got the girls out told him to walk away and then him and I were involved in an altercation. He called the cops. The cops came and got me and uh I spent forty hours in jail. It was a good time. It was horrible. It was absolutely horrible. The cheese sandwiches were horrible. They need to feed us better here. Other then that it was really embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just an altercation with the cab driver and supposedly theft of services. The meter doesn't lie I guess. I took an ACD and got three days of community service. Which I'm gonna do even though I really really don't want to do it. No and you know if I see him again I'll punch him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Glenn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 17, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5152847808520216033?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5152847808520216033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5152847808520216033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-fulfilling-court-obligation-to-uh-i.html' title='&quot;Him and I were involved in an altercation. He called the cops.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEmw-tD-CI/AAAAAAAABmQ/601qdBk9TTE/s72-c/blog2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1466102003048552538</id><published>2008-11-13T05:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:23:29.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"We're not read our rights, we're just animals."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEoj33AE5I/AAAAAAAABmg/K2-DQY3Tp6A/s1600-h/blog-7-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEoj33AE5I/AAAAAAAABmg/K2-DQY3Tp6A/s400/blog-7-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341595229793293202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;What brought me here today, well actually on Veterans Day, on the 11th. of this month which is November 11th. I was walking down the street on my lunch break and I went to actually I was working I was on my lunch break I went into the park, I smoked a joint one joint. The police five police officers came up to me and I put it out and I was good with them by saying this is a joint and everything and they threw me to the ground actually and they handcuffed, arrested me and put me into a car. I spent three, today is the thirteenth, I spent three days in the bullpen, I didn't even see the judge and then now they see me, I went to see the judge and they want to give me sixty days for actually smoking one joint. So actually the DA asked for sixty days and my lawyer said, "are you kidding me? It was only a joint." So he actually, the judge looked at the DA and the DA said, "Yes I want him to do sixty days."and the judge said, "no time served, let him go, go to a program or something." So they gave me a paperwork to go upstairs and fill in paperwork so I can start a program for a joint. You know I've been smoking a joint since I was fifteen. Ok. But I'm not a heavy user. I don't deserve to be put in jail at all for smoking a joint. You know. I'm a hard working man with a wife that has cancer. You know my wife has cancer at Mount Sinai hospital and it's incredible to me how the system is today. They walk around and jump out of cars, jump out of vans and then for no apparent reason just to trap people off especially in the minority communities and it's not right, it's not right. Something needs to be done. We need to follow this act that Bush set, the Patriot Act. We don't even have rights no more. America needs to know this. We don't have rights at all. All we have is ourselves and to survive, you know. We're not read our rights, we're just animals. So we need to come together one time and vote for the right people and try to end this madness because a lot of people are going to jail and spending time in jail for very very very little reason. We're getting locked up for little little little things and it's incredible. There's people outside robbing people, there's people outside robbing banks, robbing old woman and stuff and getting less time then people that's smoking a joint. That's incredible. We need to end this madness now. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Darin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 13, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1466102003048552538?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1466102003048552538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1466102003048552538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-brought-me-here-today-well_13.html' title='&quot;We&apos;re not read our rights, we&apos;re just animals.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEoj33AE5I/AAAAAAAABmg/K2-DQY3Tp6A/s72-c/blog-7-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7794971891320524487</id><published>2008-11-12T05:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:25:01.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm kind of hungry so I robbed a store."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEq4wlFwzI/AAAAAAAABnA/ChdlOnnP9wg/s1600-h/matthewwalsh.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEq4wlFwzI/AAAAAAAABnA/ChdlOnnP9wg/s400/matthewwalsh.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341597787639628594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;I gotta wait on probation. For a robbery. Hanging out with wrong people. Bad people. I got caught with something that I did. I got caught robbing a store and now I'm on probation. I got arrested. I got caught. I had a lot on my mind and I couldn't take it anymore. A lot of family issues. I had no money. I hadn't gotten my welfare check. I'm kind of hungry so I robbed a store. Bodega. 9mm. One of my friends. One of my people that I was hanging out with. Bad. I regretted it, after I did it. Now I couldn't do nothing I was locked up. Didn't have no freedom. It ain't fun being in jail. You can't do nothing. All you do is sleep all day. Nothing. Nah I did it with other people. Yeah I had the gun but I threw it after. I didn't want to get caught with it. $20. You hang out with the wrong crowd and you get caught with the wrong crowd. I gotta walk a straight line now. I'm on probation. Don't get in trouble. It ain't fun. When you get locked up it ain't fun. You can't do nothing. You have no freedom. You can't use your money when you want to. Definitely you can't call nobody. Only one time a day and that's it. You know it's not a place to be. I ain't ever gonna do it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Matthew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;November 12, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-footer" style="margin-top: 0.75em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(230, 230, 230); text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; font: normal normal normal 78%/normal 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1.4em; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7794971891320524487?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7794971891320524487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7794971891320524487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-gotta-wait-on-probation.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m kind of hungry so I robbed a store.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEq4wlFwzI/AAAAAAAABnA/ChdlOnnP9wg/s72-c/matthewwalsh.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2637605261340047184</id><published>2008-11-12T05:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:26:25.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Basically I have no knowledge of any money being stolen.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEpCOv2PFI/AAAAAAAABmo/itdtAUnOPIg/s1600-h/blog-9.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEpCOv2PFI/AAAAAAAABmo/itdtAUnOPIg/s400/blog-9.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341595751333379154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Yes. Excuse me. Charges of grand larceny. Well I'm currently caught up in a case where there was allegedly some cash was stolen from a bank. They're accusing me of pulling out money from my account um that was stolen that I have no knowledge of the money being stolen and basically they're saying that I'm part of some organization that um steals money. Supposedly, I'm not sure. Actually it's um wiring money and funds. So some money was wired to me from a business partner and they're saying that I'm linked to funds that was being stolen from accounts. Basically I have no knowledge of any money being stolen. I just received money and it was in my account. So if I'm wrong for having possession of money in my account then so be it but I feel that legally I'm able to deposit any money that's given to me especially if it's a certified check and I'm not aware that any money is stolen or the bank is not informing me that the money was stolen and they're cashing my checks and allowing me to do my business transactions um without any uh stipulations of the checks or the money that is deposited in my into account as being stolen. I feel that if I do have money in my account and they are allowing me to make business transactions and um and so forth uh my accounting that I'm not guilty of any wrong doing especially if I'm not aware that any money is being transferred from a legal account that, that account that is being transferred from has no red flags or any that the accounts I'm acquiring money from is um being investigated on, so I feel that these charges that are, that I have acquired um is not actually my charges because as I've said this is my business, this is my account and for the District Attorney to accuse me of illegally acquiring these funds I feel is wrong because basically like I said I'm just doing my business as I do every day with my account as any American has done and and is continually doing um with day to day accounting with banks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Daniel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 12, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2637605261340047184?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2637605261340047184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2637605261340047184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/yes.html' title='&quot;Basically I have no knowledge of any money being stolen.&apos;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEpCOv2PFI/AAAAAAAABmo/itdtAUnOPIg/s72-c/blog-9.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6431247795818894422</id><published>2008-11-10T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:22:00.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They probably thought I was gonna hijack a train or something."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiErzxvPDfI/AAAAAAAABnI/7ekPI3SxDz4/s1600-h/Joseph+Gibb.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiErzxvPDfI/AAAAAAAABnI/7ekPI3SxDz4/s400/Joseph+Gibb.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341598801562897906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 24px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I was walking to the train and the cops saw a clip in my pocket so they stopped me and they thought it was a knife and it was a knife. It took them a while, they took it and they were trying to figure out if it was a switchblade or a gravity knife so they were trying to figure it out for about twenty minutes, half an hour, after they finally got it open they saw that it lock clicked, they decided to arrest me and then they didn't even end up charging me for the knife because there was no reason for them to stop me to get the knife but then they saw weed in my bag and charged me for the marijuana and I had to pay seventy five dollars. Waste of Monday. I didn't not get my knife back. I asked but they said no. But I have a piece of paper that is a receipt that says switchblade on it so maybe some day when it's legal I can get it back. I didn't even know it was a switchblade. Just casue it locks. I just thought it was a knife. But who knew? Now I know. I bought it in a legal store so they shouldn't have been selling it. Well it was only a little bit of weed, so not a lot. But I paid to pay two hundred bucks cause its a hundred and thirty dollar court fee or something so that was like two fifty, probably about three hundred dollars. Then I live in Boston so I had to take a bus here. It's outrageous. Expensive knife, it was an expensive day and it was 911, so obviously they would stop me on 911. They probably thought I was gonna hijack a train or something. What are you going to do? New York.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joseph&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 10, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6431247795818894422?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6431247795818894422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6431247795818894422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-was-walking-to-train-and-cops-saw.html' title='&quot;They probably thought I was gonna hijack a train or something.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiErzxvPDfI/AAAAAAAABnI/7ekPI3SxDz4/s72-c/Joseph+Gibb.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4779450005483782046</id><published>2008-11-03T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T08:00:29.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"There is a stillness that lays deep inside the she in me."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEscA5injI/AAAAAAAABnQ/3ZIH46eN0Tk/s1600-h/blog.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEscA5injI/AAAAAAAABnQ/3ZIH46eN0Tk/s400/blog.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341599492827422258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 24px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;I'm a street artist. I sell my art on 14th Street and Broadway, right in front of Whole Foods. And I was arrested about two months ago for selling my art on the streets. So, I make one-of-a-kind bags that I make all of myself, I'm an advocate for sweatshop-free labor. Along with all of my bags I give a pamphlet on sweatshop labor, donating some of the proceeds to an organization. And they arrested me because they said I didn't fall under first amendment, which hundreds of New York City street artists are unjustly arrested every year because of the same situation. So, I was in court today, the case...they re-issued another court date for November 25th, and apparently it's a long process, it keeps going and going and going until finally they grant you first amendment, or they don't, depending on how they feel you fall into place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Here's some examples of some of my bags. I do poetry on all of my bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"There is a stillness that lays deep inside the she in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There is a stillness that whispers thoughts of nothing and everything at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There is a stillness that knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Once in a while when my mind stops spinning and my body stops moving, I can hear that clear...clear voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And then...this...all of this, seems to make sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And...then...I remember that this, all of this, is just one moment in time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There is a stillness that lays deep inside the she in me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;This is, yeah, I do this full-time. This is my primary source of income. I've been doing it full-time for about a year. I get a lot of...people really, in New York City, really respect the street artists, I think it's definitely a part of the whole atmosphere that attracts people, so I have a lot of repeat customers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sheila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;November 3, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4779450005483782046?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4779450005483782046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4779450005483782046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-street-artist.html' title='&quot;There is a stillness that lays deep inside the she in me.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEscA5injI/AAAAAAAABnQ/3ZIH46eN0Tk/s72-c/blog.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6927070962988598105</id><published>2008-10-30T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:35:37.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Who benefited from this? I don't understand at all.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEvbVASWzI/AAAAAAAABng/8Lph1sEdIhg/s1600-h/blog-3.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEvbVASWzI/AAAAAAAABng/8Lph1sEdIhg/s400/blog-3.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341602779579439922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This is a good story. I was in my apartment, it was like 7:15 PM and uh I was in the bedroom and all of a sudden we heard the door. They were knocking really really really hard. Ringing the door, banging the door, obnoxious. So Brad went to the door. I looked at the peep hole and I saw two people standing at the door. I thought well sometimes they misdirect them, them send them to the wrong floors here. So a lot of times they go to the wrong floor. So I figured they're probably lost. I opened the door for them. At that point they take police ID out of their pockets, tell me that their police, to step back, they push me out of the way, one of them is holding a battering ram and right behind those two this man and woman, come about eight or nine other police officers, men and woman both. And uh go ahead Octavio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So um I came out of the bedroom, "come here sir, come here sir", they're like screaming at me. First of all I'm blind, I'm totally blind. You know what I mean. I said, "who are you?" and they wouldn't tell me. They wouldn't tell me at all. I didn't even know they were police. I said "who are you?" And they wouldn't tell me. They said "you're under arrest." They sat me in a chair and then they moved me into the bed. Then they moved me into the bedroom. They switched places with us. Handcuffed. They never read us our Miranda rights either. One of the policemen said to me "did you guys just do something recently to piss somebody off?" At that time I had really really bad vertigo. I couldn't even walk. I had to hold on to the wall and everything. He had just come out the hospital for seven weeks from cryptococcus. He couldn't even walk across the floor by himself. It's a fungal infection of the brain. It's deadly. I can't walk because of the vertigo. I kept telling them that I was blind. They didn't believe me. Honestly, because I said, "I need to take my cane downtown." We realized three of the police stayed behind in the premises when we left. So god knows what they did here what they searched what they left here they could have bugged the place they could have anything they wanted to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the police station. We had to wait and wait and wait. They fingerprinted my hand. We waited 3 1/2 hours just to take our fingerprints. They took Octavio first. They took an hour for him. 8 hours later they finally take me to do my prints. An hour later they come back. "Here are your charges" and on a piece of paper, 23000 Octavio Perez, Prostitution Solicitation. The penal code, 23000 solicitation for sex. Prostitution with a woman. It was a police woman. Right here in the apartment. They were all here. The police were all here. An undercover female police officer. She's the one that entered the door, with the first person that came in with the whole squad. So how could he have ever solicited for sex with her not knowing she was a policeman when she was here with ten other people, cops! [They said] "That if she would have sex with me I was going to pay her 200 and something dollars. Oh if she masturbated me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So then our first date in court comes around two weeks later and when we actually get to court there's no corroborating evidence from the police officer on the scene who's filing the solicitation charges against Mr. Perez, filed with the District Attorney. Nothing there at all. So they tell us we have to come back in a month and the same thing happens. So we can back in a month and the same thing happens. There's still no corroborating evidence put forth by the Police Officer who's making the claim that Octavio solicited her for sex. So then say come back in two months. And then when we came back then they dismissed the whole thing. They threw it out. The District Attorney had no documentation proving that the police officer who made this report is the one that made the report and it's actually factual. I had to get a lawyer. I spent more then four thousand dollars on this. For what? For what? Who benefited from this? I don't understand at all. Nobody. Nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Octavio and Brad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;October 30, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6927070962988598105?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6927070962988598105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6927070962988598105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-good-story.html' title='&quot;Who benefited from this? I don&apos;t understand at all.'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEvbVASWzI/AAAAAAAABng/8Lph1sEdIhg/s72-c/blog-3.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8097554295317901800</id><published>2008-10-30T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:37:26.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"These Mexicans were hitting on me and we got into a verbal fight..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEuUpZvNyI/AAAAAAAABnY/3um2ddyYZDA/s1600-h/blog-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEuUpZvNyI/AAAAAAAABnY/3um2ddyYZDA/s400/blog-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341601565284185890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Um I found a wallet and I called 411 and got the address, I mean I got the phone number of the person who I thought the wallet belonged to. I called them, left a message. There was also two checks with phone numbers on them, I called those. One was in California. One didn't go through and the other one didn't know who I was talking about. The girl that called back it wasn't her wallet. So I tried unsuccessfully to locate the person whose wallet it belonged to. That's pretty much all that happened. We got into a fight. These Mexicans were hitting on me and we got into a verbal fight and we walked outside and cops walked up on us. Four undercover cops walked up on us and searched all of us and found the wallet in my purse and arrested me for possessing credit cards and checks in over two thousand dollars, amount of two thousand dollars. I ended up getting booked for two felonies and I didn't do anything. On the the lower east side in a phone booth. I couldn't get the right phone number for the person who lived in Brooklyn. Probably toss it out. I couldn't find the person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Courtney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;October 30, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8097554295317901800?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8097554295317901800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8097554295317901800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/um-i-found-wallet-and-i-called-411-and.html' title='&quot;These Mexicans were hitting on me and we got into a verbal fight...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEuUpZvNyI/AAAAAAAABnY/3um2ddyYZDA/s72-c/blog-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6273864013430385987</id><published>2008-10-27T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:38:31.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>""We were smoking some kind of medicinal herb. I'm not sure exactly what it was."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEwRYll4CI/AAAAAAAABnw/vduV_vFsDio/s1600-h/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEwRYll4CI/AAAAAAAABnw/vduV_vFsDio/s400/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341603708254150690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(204, 204, 204);  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You want the story? Okay, here's what happened. We were on a BMX road trip and we happened to be staying in Manhattan. I live in Queens, everybody else lives all over. And, we were staying in this girl's apartment...it's just a road trip where we bring a photographer and a video camera guy, and we all ride our bikes and do tricks in skate parks and on street spots and then we eventually make a video out of it and sell the DVD, you know? And basically we were at a party at this girl's house and we're all just hanging out, drinking and smoking and everything...we were smoking some kind of medicinal herb. I'm not sure exactly what it was. Purchased it from an African-American. And so then one of the girls is wasted and starts throwing beer bottles out the window, and all of a sudden we see flashlights flashing up into the window, and we're on the 15th floor, and the cops run up in there, and they search the place and they find marijuana and they ended up...they arrested all of us, we all went to jail, and this is our little thing. Basically, nothing's gonna happen 'cause none of us did anything. Is what it is. She's in there, looking like shit, so, it is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(L to R: Jeff, Keith [front center], Adam [rear center], Jake, Rory)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;October 27, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6273864013430385987?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6273864013430385987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6273864013430385987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-want-story-okay-heres-what-happened.html' title='&quot;&quot;We were smoking some kind of medicinal herb. I&apos;m not sure exactly what it was.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEwRYll4CI/AAAAAAAABnw/vduV_vFsDio/s72-c/blog-1-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7600076088943006185</id><published>2008-10-22T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:40:24.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm a madam, I'm a princess, everything I get is given to me."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiExcDsH8SI/AAAAAAAABoA/o5kzkujctvQ/s1600-h/blog-4.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiExcDsH8SI/AAAAAAAABoA/o5kzkujctvQ/s400/blog-4.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341604991134593314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a transsexual. I got arrested in Harlem uptown on East 132nd. Street and Madison Avenue yesterday because I was getting high with a couple of girlfriends and I wasn't on my p's and q's and the undercover ended up on me and locked me up. I'm free, they can't hold me or nothing. Because I'm that bitch. They can't hold me or nothing. I'm a fab bitch and all that. I can come see me. Anybody who interested in some good booty holler at me, you understand what I'm saying. I'm a madam, I'm a princess, everything I get is given to me. I don't gottta steal anything or nothing. I get it from the kindness of my heart. Me being me. You understand what I'm saying. You wanna have anymore information you give me a call at (212) 947 - ....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tatyana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 22, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7600076088943006185?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7600076088943006185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7600076088943006185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-transsexual.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m a madam, I&apos;m a princess, everything I get is given to me.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiExcDsH8SI/AAAAAAAABoA/o5kzkujctvQ/s72-c/blog-4.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4300565482697148157</id><published>2008-10-20T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:41:54.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Keep our public parks public. Amen."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEx9A-7SaI/AAAAAAAABoI/JWypQ-okB_w/s1600-h/blog-5.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEx9A-7SaI/AAAAAAAABoI/JWypQ-okB_w/s400/blog-5.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341605557343832482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was accused of a violation, disorderly conduct. We were trying to interrupt rich people from having a dinner in Union Square. Yes the same rich people that are trying to turn Union Square into their own restaurant. Amen. The local business improvement district. They're called the Union Square Partnership, they're dominated by Mike Bloomberg appointees and buddies. Much as Bloomberg now is trying to steal his third term with his money. He's shopping for his third term as we say in the Church Of Stop Shopping. These wealthy folks Danny Meyer, the celebrity chef and others are trying to purchase, a great old park where the eight hour work day came from. Much of our progressive, our progressive history, labor history, peace history, civil liberties history comes from rallies and marches that took place on the north side of Union Square at the pavilion. The pavilion that old building on the north side of Union Square. Can you picture that, up near seventeenth street. The pavilion that they want to change into an upscale restaurant with fifteen dollar chardonnays, in a place that has the highest concentration of restaurants in New York City. But the pavilion was the reviewing stand for the first labor day parade in 1882 and it's a national historic landmark, because of its protest and so we protest and when we protest sometimes we are accused of disorderly conduct. Amen. You know I didn't get into the tent. It was this ritzy tent and you had to pay a couple of hundred bucks to get in. Right now they should be eating crow. They should back off from a public space that needs to remain public, keep the public parks public children. Keep our public parks public. Amen. Praise be. Save Union Square.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reverend Billy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 20, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4300565482697148157?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4300565482697148157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4300565482697148157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-was-accused-of-violation-disorderly.html' title='&quot;Keep our public parks public. Amen.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEx9A-7SaI/AAAAAAAABoI/JWypQ-okB_w/s72-c/blog-5.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4868155348862691455</id><published>2008-10-16T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T12:55:17.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They do bend the laws for certain people. And sometime a person like me get a little bent."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sjf4lZ2AbkI/AAAAAAAAB0o/jbjtjK_HfBc/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sjf4lZ2AbkI/AAAAAAAAB0o/jbjtjK_HfBc/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348016404002008642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hold it, let me stop smoking. You got a match? All right. You want me to hold your coffee, and drink it for you, too?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Due to the judicious system, I believe that...you gotta forgive my speech, my vocabulary. As I was saying, my vocabulary is very limited. And, I'm somewhat illiterate. But, I'm a very intelligent illiterate young man. Older man, I should say. Anyway, I do believe the judicial system abuse a lot of they privilege, what they issue out the people, and I'm one of them. They wanted to offer me 30 days for hopping a subway, which I didn't have a fare, and the location I hopped it at, I do live there on the sidewalk. It's a very unfortunate situation for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the petit larceny crimes and whatnot I do commit, just to survive, and I choose them very well where I won't get much time, and it's like a choice. You need this, and this the only way you can get it at the time, and it really don't hurts nobody. But it's laws that need to be enforced, but sometime you can bend the laws, which they do in certain occasions, on high levels, they do bend the laws for certain people. And sometime a person like me get a little bent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1500...maybe over a period of 30 years, yes. Maybe. I'm not positive. It could be a little less. That's more like summonses, not arrests. How many arrests? Numerous. Maybe a hundred times in 30 years. This is my third home. What's it like? Well, sometime...they beat me up last night. Some of the officers, the officers are very...it's a lot of...how should I say? A lot of...what's the word I'm searching for? Like I said earlier in the interview, my vocabulary is very limited due to my education. Lacking of education. Fifth grade. I didn't graduate, I dropped out in the fifth. I should say...I didn't get beat up, I say they were trying to. The Correction Officers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My finger? This happened in prison, on Clinton Farm. See? This one. It still go to good use at certain times. I'm not gonna tell you what the uses are. Hello, lady.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Terry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 16, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4868155348862691455?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4868155348862691455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4868155348862691455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/they-do-bend-laws-for-certain-people.html' title='&quot;They do bend the laws for certain people. And sometime a person like me get a little bent.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/Sjf4lZ2AbkI/AAAAAAAAB0o/jbjtjK_HfBc/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5687295047094362459</id><published>2008-10-16T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:44:43.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm too fabulous to go to jail."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEye2aQ3QI/AAAAAAAABoQ/ykLiubRHLhk/s1600-h/blog-6.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEye2aQ3QI/AAAAAAAABoQ/ykLiubRHLhk/s400/blog-6.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341606138621254914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I work as a stylist, and I got arrested, like, maybe a month or two ago...because I went out to eat at a very expensive restaurant in the Village, and I didn't pay, and so my friends ran away, and basically the Chinese people, like, grabbed me and, like, they tackled me down and they called the police, and the police came in and arrested me. Then they took my Louis Vuitton bag, and I was so upset. And, basically I am at court today, and I hope that I don't go to jail, because I'm too fabulous to go to jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought a brand new one, actually. I bought it just to come to court. Louis Vuitton bag, just in case anything happens. I can go down fabulously. The moral of this story is always bring cash when you're going out to eat, no matter who you're going out with. It was delicious, I just wish I had enough money to pay so I wouldn't have been here. Oh, we don't talk anymore. Friends don't do that to each other, they pay for you, and they pay for a new Louis Vuitton bag, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Devohn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 16, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5687295047094362459?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5687295047094362459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5687295047094362459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-work-as-stylist-and-i-got-arrested.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m too fabulous to go to jail.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEye2aQ3QI/AAAAAAAABoQ/ykLiubRHLhk/s72-c/blog-6.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3520509919217764084</id><published>2008-10-09T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:45:42.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I don't like to change my image for conformists."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEy4_32dhI/AAAAAAAABoY/ejD0Mpbt_eo/s1600-h/blog-9.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEy4_32dhI/AAAAAAAABoY/ejD0Mpbt_eo/s400/blog-9.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341606587837871634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I shoplifted. I needed some clothes so I went into a very nice store and took some things. An American Apparel. A shirt, well two shirts barely worth the sentencing. Barely worth anything. It was the fact that I basically needed the clothes so I felt that you know receiving any kind of sentencing was kind of unfair because it was a first time offense so I felt like it should have been dismissed. Well when you're in a situation where you know life kind of like beats down on you, you really have nothing else to do, you need clothes for the winter, summer, spring so that's basically why I did it. I need to support myself in some way that's why I did it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I don't like to change my image for conformists. In order to appreciate all halves you have to appreciate both halves. You have to recognize you live in society so part of living in society is being conformist without completely realizing it, but then again, what is a conformist but someone who follows, but then what is there really to follow, you know it's very in depth profound simple vague things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kinda just walked in and did it. It was very impulsive. I just said this is going to be very easy I know exactly how to do this, it's the most intelligent thing to do. I just went into a changing room you know put it in my bag and walked out. But they basically knew so they caught me. They basically had seen me take the clothes and put them in my bag, except I hadn't gone into a changing room I don't think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gizelle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 9, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3520509919217764084?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3520509919217764084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3520509919217764084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-shoplifted.html' title='&quot;I don&apos;t like to change my image for conformists.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEy4_32dhI/AAAAAAAABoY/ejD0Mpbt_eo/s72-c/blog-9.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3121382892239455610</id><published>2008-10-08T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:46:26.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I had a picture of me posing in my bra and panties, and they took that."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEzuJrOD0I/AAAAAAAABog/AXpWXlC8Otc/s1600-h/blog-10.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEzuJrOD0I/AAAAAAAABog/AXpWXlC8Otc/s400/blog-10.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341607501002313538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're a couple. On August 13th, 2008 at approximately 5 o'clock in the morning, we heard something at the door, like, maybe somebody tampering, and my honey went to the door. It just burst open and knocked him down, and come through the door were some men in brass and metal chestses and helmets and machine guns and they just screamed at us and said "get down, get down, get down!" And handcuffed us, and said that they had a no-knock warrant. To this day, I'm not aware of what that means other than no knocking, and they just knock your door down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They accused us of having drug trafficking in our house, which wasn't true. So, they hauled me off to the precinct, they took him to the hospital because he fell out of the chair, the...you know, excitement, and they actually knocked him down. Yeah, he has a trache in his throat, he's a cancer survivor. So, while he was at the hospital I was at the precinct, waiting. They took me to the precinct, like, 6 o'clock in the morning, and they let me sit there until 6 o'clock in the evening without feeding me, or anything, waiting for him to come back from the hospital before we could come downtown and be booked. The charge was possession of a controlled substance in the third degree, but they searched our house for the four hours without us being there. So, they told us that they found an ounce of coke, which wound up being baking soda. So, in order for me to get out...I was put in jail, I stayed in jail for almost a month and a half, a month and a week, they just released me Thursday that just passed. He had to come back, in order for them to dismiss the charges because it was nothing. There was nothing. And I'm not understanding what the circumstances is of a no-knock warrant. He thinks that they were being spiteful because of the fact that we live in the midst of a lot of trafficking, and things, and maybe they couldn't catch who they wanted, and maybe a jealous girlfriend, I don't know. But the no-knock warrant is something that I think should truly be investigated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ransacked it. We put it back together, but a lot of things were taken. Like, they took my...I had a picture of me posing in my bra and panties, and they took that. Stanley doesn't want to make no fuss about it, but I told him we're truly considering...they took our keys, you know, saying there was evidence of us, evidence that we lived in the apartment. The picture was supposed to be evidence, and...for what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Florence and Stanley&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 8, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3121382892239455610?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3121382892239455610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3121382892239455610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/were-couple.html' title='&quot;I had a picture of me posing in my bra and panties, and they took that.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiEzuJrOD0I/AAAAAAAABog/AXpWXlC8Otc/s72-c/blog-10.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2173798403922127960</id><published>2008-10-07T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:47:25.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Because he was drunk he went through a big plate glass window..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0Tx94-KI/AAAAAAAABoo/a0KbRGen3yw/s1600-h/blog-12.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0Tx94-KI/AAAAAAAABoo/a0KbRGen3yw/s400/blog-12.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341608147473201314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well it's a criminal mischief charge. Well this drunk alcoholic bum attacked me while I was begging and in the process of defending myself because he was drunk he went through a big plate glass window and even though I was defending myself and I was in the right, the police even told me they didn't want to arrest me but because something was damaged that I had to go to jail. So I actually did go to court and then when I went to court they hand me a paper saying that the prosecutor hadn't investigated it or something and I don't know exactly what happened but then I talked to the owner and made a private deal to pay for half the window out of my begging proceeds. So I figured that was the end of it because he said he wasn't going to press charges, so I went up to Canada and then when I came across the border I was arrested and they told me I had a warrant out for me. But then New York said they weren't going to how do they say extradite so they let me go. But then the next day I got arrested by the state police and the same thing happened. So they suggested to me I take a Greyhound bus instead of hitching the rest of the way. So now I'm here and I have to go up to room five forty six and take care of this warrant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I'm hoping that like, they'll see that I'm trying to take care of it and nothing will happen. What am I going to do tomorrow? Go back and try to make money... by begging yes. God lately I've been making about maybe fourteen or fifteen dollars a day. As opposed to what maybe twenty, twenty five last year and even during the economic like you know when everything was like really great and fantastic I was never making more than thirty dollars a day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know what people were never really that generous in this city to begin with. I'm not making much less. That's the reason why you know I've been like you can ask some of the people I've been predicting this economic meltdown for the last three to four years. I've been saying because of the greed or selfishness it's going to cause everything to collapse. I don't know if they were blind or had their head in the sand but it should have been obvious that it was coming anyway. Basically stop being so dam greedy. What's the purpose of having like twenty, thirty, forty, fifty million dollar a year salaries and like hundred million dollars a year bonuses. You know you don't need that much money to survive while you got people out there struggling to make it and they've got two minimum wage jobs you know they're living pretty much almost in the ghetto and they can still almost barely make it. I don't see how I can do much worse considering the situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like you know like you know I remember like um when I met the one that I showed you the picture of she came up to me when I was sitting on the street one day and she uh, she goes are you hungry and she gave me half of her oatmeal. I was just so stunned by how beautiful she was I was like thinking, I was thinking what could I say to her. I was like you know, I did like the same stupid thing that all the college boys do, "like what are you majoring in?" and when she told me she was majoring in experimental psychology I said, "ok now you gotta sit and we gotta talk". So she sat and we talk for about three hours and I said, "hey would you like to go on a date and go dancing or something?" You know she said yes and we went out dancing and from that time on whenever she had time we hung out and spent so time together. We talked about like psychology and stuff like that and then I have other friends you know they're majoring in other things like you know like astronomy or physics. So I just sit around with them and read their books and we discuss things. Probably the brain. Yep. Though I did have that one girl the other night say that she thought I was cute. Oh yeah they're definitely beautiful and attractive. It's pretty much all platonic. Well the one's here at NYU are all platonic. Not really. I mean if the opportunity arises and I'm for it then we'll see what happens. But for the most part like I don't really care, I'm pretty much like more into the books. The books are fun. Right now I'm reading a book on physics astronomy. This one's about astronomy about how like galaxy formation, uh it evens goes in talks about dark matter and things like that, dark energy and the fact that actual matter only makes up four percent of the observable universe. Well I find it interesting. Yeah if it wasn't for matter you wouldn't be filming me right now. Matter matters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merritt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 7, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2173798403922127960?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2173798403922127960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2173798403922127960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/well-its-criminal-mischief-charge.html' title='&quot;Because he was drunk he went through a big plate glass window...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0Tx94-KI/AAAAAAAABoo/a0KbRGen3yw/s72-c/blog-12.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-450272397742168175</id><published>2008-10-03T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:49:05.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Because I'm crazy! Because I have a compulsion."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0zYOc8EI/AAAAAAAABow/rz5em9zDTOk/s1600-h/blog-13.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0zYOc8EI/AAAAAAAABow/rz5em9zDTOk/s400/blog-13.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341608690319159362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know, it's a confusing matter 'cause I got arrested like six or seven times for, basically I was running around the streets of New York writing "You=Love" on everything, and putting "You=Love" stickers everywhere, and harassing people and I was...went crazy and got caught a bunch of times and I kept having to go to court for, like, two years I went to court, like, every month, and finally it's over. Because I'm crazy! Because I have a compulsion. The compulsion is to...I like to write on things, and I like to write...I like to say...I like to remind people that they equal love. Every human equals love equally. Yeah. That's my point. Equal love, equal love. Equality. Yeah. Equal, it means that...that any...the sum total, if you add all the actions and generations of humans together, that the total equals love. I'll call you "equal love!" All humans are equal, and equal love equally. And the proof of that is in the fact that there is a growing population of humans. So, obviously, love works because that's how come there's so many of us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the towers went down, I was working on a project called "Boiled Down Sentences to Say More," I was trying to think of a way to communicate to a large group of people, like the human race, in the smallest amount of spaces. And in my quest to say the least amount of things, to say the most important message with the least amount words, I came up with the equation "You=Love." And ever since I came up with that, I've been transmitting it and propagating it and carrying it and writing it and spreading it around everywhere I possibly could. Whether...if someone's nice to me or mean to me, I still give them "You=Love" t-shirts, or stickers, or, it doesn't...like...'cause it's equal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mostly in the East Village. I was really...I did, one time, I spray painted "You=Love" with a stencil on hundreds of blocks of sidewalk corners. In the year 2003. In 2003 and 2004 and 2005, the East Village was covered in "You=Love." I mean, you might be slow...I'm slow, too. I'm slow, obviously. I don't even know what happened in there, I'm just so happy to be free. I'm free.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tricia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 3, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-450272397742168175?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/450272397742168175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/450272397742168175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-dont-know-its-confusing-matter-cause.html' title='&quot;Because I&apos;m crazy! Because I have a compulsion.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE0zYOc8EI/AAAAAAAABow/rz5em9zDTOk/s72-c/blog-13.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3235672589889777722</id><published>2008-10-02T14:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:49:56.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm tired of the general apathy of this country and the lack of voter turnout."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SObcHl4KBFI/AAAAAAAAA6o/n6eXOEIf6Ps/s1600-h/blog-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SObcHl4KBFI/AAAAAAAAA6o/n6eXOEIf6Ps/s400/blog-9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253128038359106642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SOVAZmV5WCI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/WRkREgJQ19Y/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My name is Clark Clark. I go by Clark Clark. Sometimes I go by Clark Clarken but that's just because my girlfriends last name is Larken. You can call me Clark Clark or Clark Clarken or just Clark for short. Clark Clark is fine. I was trying to pick up some stuff that was confiscated by the police as evidence. Fourteen t-shirts that said vote and a backpack. They said they had to use it for an investigation. I was arrested for criminal vandalism. They said that I was spray painting the word vote on a trash can. That was on the lower eastside, 9th. precinct. I have no idea why they would think that. Well I have some suspicions. Probably because I had some spray paint and stencils. I was carrying some spray paint and stencils. Well I make signs with them. Signs that say "Vote". Well because I would like to see people vote. I'm tired of the general apathy of this country and the lack of voter turnout. Not just in presidential elections but in all elections. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Clark&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 2, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3235672589889777722?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3235672589889777722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3235672589889777722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/10/clark-clark.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m tired of the general apathy of this country and the lack of voter turnout.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SObcHl4KBFI/AAAAAAAAA6o/n6eXOEIf6Ps/s72-c/blog-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8842977942052945016</id><published>2008-10-01T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T04:50:38.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"It didn't kinda register until he pulled out the BlackBerry that he was not a bum."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1cdlkiSI/AAAAAAAABo4/3lE01YoCkiw/s1600-h/blog-14.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1cdlkiSI/AAAAAAAABo4/3lE01YoCkiw/s400/blog-14.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341609396132940066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, me and my friends, B and J—he's a Marine, so we call him by his last name—yeah, he's a Marine with 20 counts of, like, assaulting a police officer. Every time they put cuffs on him, he has to hit them. Anyway, we're sitting around, we're smoking pot, it was a bowl. Nice big glass bowl, and six undercovers come up and they slap the cuffs on B. But they know B personally by face because they've seen him so many damn times. So, they get a girl to come and handcuff him because by the time he turns around, he had his fist already cocked. He was about to punch the cop out. And, like, he realized it was a girl and he's like, he just drew back. Like, and, they come up to us, and they were like, they're searching me, they're telling me, like, "where is it? Where is it? Where is it?" And J is sitting with the pipe, right next to him and smoking, like, big thick cloud of smoke just came out of this pipe, and they can't find...six cops on three people can't find one bowl. So, we got arrested for less than a gram when they actually finally did. The way that we got busted, though, was there was this other black gentleman sitting on the bench over there, and we just thought he was a normal citizen, and everything, 'cause he didn't have his shield showing. And, so, he's over there on his BlackBerry just...you know, like, here's B, and here's the other two guys with him, and that's basically how we got arrested right there, the guy's sitting there reporting everything that we're doing on his BlackBerry. Yeah, and he's a cop, and we didn't know it. He didn't look anything like a cop, he looked just like a, he just basically looked like a bum, honestly. Yeah, it didn't kinda register until he pulled out the BlackBerry that he was not a bum. Like, 'cause he sat there for, like, 20 or 30 minutes and, like, just sat there and watched us smoke and drink and have fun. By that time, we'd already threw away all the cans, so he couldn't get us for open containers, or anything, so, that's pretty much my lovely story. I spent 22 hours in this jail right above you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I travel everywhere. I went to Amsterdam last year. I'm always on the road, I hitchhike most of the time. I'm probably going to end up going back to L.A., right after this, to go and see my mother for a little while, probably stay with her for a couple months, and then start back out. Possibly go to, I was planning on going to Oregon very soon, because I like to sit out in the country in the fields, and everything, it's nice...and smoke.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anthony&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 1, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8842977942052945016?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8842977942052945016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8842977942052945016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-me-and-my-friends-b-and-jhes-marine.html' title='&quot;It didn&apos;t kinda register until he pulled out the BlackBerry that he was not a bum.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1cdlkiSI/AAAAAAAABo4/3lE01YoCkiw/s72-c/blog-14.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5472534444563208974</id><published>2008-09-29T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:31:58.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"One of the guys was already busted up cause he was in there for fighting the cops…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SOJAvEXZ9nI/AAAAAAAAA5w/I2Xhbg7vqis/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SOJAvEXZ9nI/AAAAAAAAA5w/I2Xhbg7vqis/s400/blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251831292837361266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My tag is Slim. Friday night I was in Harlem, at 103rd street station, um on the 6 line. I swiped somebody on, they gave me the two dollars. The cops ran up on me, they were gonna let me go, but it ended up I had seven warrants out for my arrest going back two years so they had to bring me in. Brought me in to Union Square, transit police, I sat there for about an hour and a half. They brought me to central bookings, I got to central bookings maybe about twelve thirty Friday night. Um, there was about fourteen people already in there when I got there. Later on that night two people from Ukraine that came through, one of the guys was already busted up cause he was in there for fighting the cops, so the cops beat him up beat him down already. Ended up, he had ended up calling me the N word, I don't want to say it out loud. So the CO give me the green light cause he disrespected me, CO was like, "I don't care what you do", so I was went in there, beat him down. I went to upper cut him and I ain't come all the way up so I hit him in the mouth, messed up my nose and I cracked out his teeth. He ended up going to the hospital. Next day saw the judge, the judge wasn't sure, the judge wasn't sure he wanted to let me go because he wasn't sure I would come back to court because of the seven warrants I had. Lucky I had a good lawyer. He talked to the DA, DA guy dig. DA decided to drop it down to a violation. That's pretty much it. Um the judge, the judge done told me, he says do the community service and I better have my boy in court in December, so I did it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tyshien&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 29, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5472534444563208974?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5472534444563208974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5472534444563208974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/tyshien-douglas.html' title='&quot;One of the guys was already busted up cause he was in there for fighting the cops…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SOJAvEXZ9nI/AAAAAAAAA5w/I2Xhbg7vqis/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6398379510374773993</id><published>2008-09-29T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:33:17.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I had an empty bag that was in my pants for months..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE3tRCcl-I/AAAAAAAABpY/uaOsZBd3B9w/s1600-h/blog-16.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE3tRCcl-I/AAAAAAAABpY/uaOsZBd3B9w/s400/blog-16.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341611883845425122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:100%;color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically what happened was I was hanging out with my friend. He decided to drink a beer on the street. So two uncover cops pulled up in a taxi cab. They searched all of us. I had an empty little baggie that had some Xanax powder on it. I got arrested for that. I was in jail for thirty six hours. I was charged with possession of crack cocaine and possession of an open container. Both of which were totally false. I had no open container and I wasn't in possession of crack. I never got read my rights or anything like that you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Xanax is like Valium. It's an anti-aniexty medication. It can be used as a recreational drug and all that. You can mellow out on it. If you take the amount you're supposed to take then you can be a functioning you know normal person but if you uh, you know you can take enough to kill yourself, you can take enough to just nod out. I mean personally I don't do it, I'm not a pill addict or anything. I had an empty bag that was in my pants for months, I mean it went through the laundry and all that. I have no reason to lie to you. That's what happened to me. I got a false drug charge more or less. In my opinion I got screwed, I got railroaded by the NYPD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matteo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 29, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6398379510374773993?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6398379510374773993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6398379510374773993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/basically-what-happened-was-i-was.html' title='&quot;I had an empty bag that was in my pants for months...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE3tRCcl-I/AAAAAAAABpY/uaOsZBd3B9w/s72-c/blog-16.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3258969582258579701</id><published>2008-09-29T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:34:47.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They still have my girlfriend in custody. I'm very tired."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1-E96L8I/AAAAAAAABpA/L4mq1l9oHl0/s1600-h/blog-15.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1-E96L8I/AAAAAAAABpA/L4mq1l9oHl0/s400/blog-15.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341609973639688130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me and three friends of mine were driving from Long Island, Smithtown and um going to Washington Heights picking up some weed, marijuana, two and a half pounds. On the way back across the Triborough Bridge I was pulled over for not having my headlights on. They looked at us, one black dude, two white kids, started messing around with us asking us questions and stuff like that. One of my friends kinda like folded in, they asked us, "if we had anything illegal in the car". We were like, we were like sure. He said sure, ahh we have a bowel. Bowel is what you use to smoke marijuana out of and shit. So he handed him the bowel. The officer just wanted you know to just see if we did have something in fact. So he ended up taking us all out of the car, searching the vehicle, found two and a half pounds of marijuana. Arrested us. In the long run I copped out to a one to three.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then last night I was coming back form Buffalo State, me and my girlfriend. She was driving because I was tired and all that. We got pulled over at the Triborough Bridge. What happened was we didn't have cash, I had my credit card, she had her credit card, stuff like that and that was the first time I was crossing over the Triborough and stuff like that. We went through, we told we told the police officer you know we didn't have the cash, we had debit cards and credit cards and stuff. He was like "all right we'll bill you". They asked her for her license and registration. She gave them the license and stuff like that. The license, her license is apparently suspended. Me and her both didn't know that. So they arrested her. They wouldn't let me drive the car back. I have a valid New York state license. They wouldn't let me drive it back. They made me walk across the bridge in the pouring rain last night, the Triborough Bridge. The Manhattan section takes you to one twenty fifth street. I had to walk all the way across the goddam bridge to one twenty fifth street and Lexington avenue. This was like eleven thirty at night. I live in Smithtown on Long Island. I had to take the train to Penn Station, wait till five forty seven in the morning to catch the next train going out to Smithtown and did that and the now I came back cause they still have my girlfriend in custody. I'm very tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Michael&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 29, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3258969582258579701?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3258969582258579701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3258969582258579701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/me-and-three-friends-of-mine-were.html' title='&quot;They still have my girlfriend in custody. I&apos;m very tired.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE1-E96L8I/AAAAAAAABpA/L4mq1l9oHl0/s72-c/blog-15.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2941248734518656921</id><published>2008-09-23T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:35:57.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"In my life I've been locked up about thirty eight times."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE5yqqieBI/AAAAAAAABpo/m3LG3WIB5Qk/s1600-h/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE5yqqieBI/AAAAAAAABpo/m3LG3WIB5Qk/s400/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341614175647070226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was standing with a buddy of mine on Second. Avenue and Fifty First Street and uh two undercover cops in a car came up behind us, said they seen a bag hanging out of my pocket, ok and in that bag was maybe a joint and a half of marijuana. That was what I was arrested for, me and my friend. For a joint and a half of marijuana. Now this has been going on, this case has been going on since May because I wouldn't cop out, I haven't copped out for nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't see being locked up for such a BS of a charge. Now I'm fucking here for this. For this five already. In my life I've been locked up about thirty eight times. For bullshit, petty larceny was my thing. Because I was a junkie. Dope. I needed to support my dope habit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 23, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2941248734518656921?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2941248734518656921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2941248734518656921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-was-standing-with-buddy-of-mine-on.html' title='&quot;In my life I&apos;ve been locked up about thirty eight times.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE5yqqieBI/AAAAAAAABpo/m3LG3WIB5Qk/s72-c/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4320191606694740896</id><published>2008-09-23T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:37:51.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I think they stopped me because I'm in a black neighborhood…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE446zSFJI/AAAAAAAABpg/nX1L8OxsCgg/s1600-h/blog-17.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE446zSFJI/AAAAAAAABpg/nX1L8OxsCgg/s400/blog-17.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341613183546299538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I was coming out of my building on One Forty Third and Seventh to go to the store. I had a little stomach pain. So I was going to go to get a Schwepps Ginger Ale and the police office stopped me and asked me for ID, I didn't have ID so he told me to turn around and put my hands behind my back. So when he told me that I ran from him and then they caught me in my building and they took me through to the precinct. Today my court date and they giving me community service. No ID. On the police report they said, "unreasonable noise" but when my lawyer told me my charge they said, "assault" because he had smashed his finger in the door. In the project door while he was chasing me he tried to catch the door and his finger got caught.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was asking what they stopped me for and he told me to "shut up", so we start arguing a little bit and after a couple of words I just ran off and took off. Honestly I think they stopped me because I'm in a black neighborhood and its nothing else for them to do, it's their job. So I feel like that's why they stopped me for. They said I fit the description. I ain't really do nothing I was just coming to the store. I think this is happening because there's a lot of violence going on around my neighborhood, so they run up on people, they search people randomly like the detectives stop and they give people random searches that's walking on the street, randomly. I say it's more like trying to get some of the bad guys off the street. I don't really know what they be doing, I don't know. They pick on the lower class, that's how I really see it like the people that's lower class, they try to squeeze them, get information out of them. If they can't do it they try to penalize them because they know most people don't know their rights so they don't have enough money to get out of these situations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joseph&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 23, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4320191606694740896?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4320191606694740896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4320191606694740896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/well-i-was-coming-out-of-my-building-on.html' title='&quot;I think they stopped me because I&apos;m in a black neighborhood…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE446zSFJI/AAAAAAAABpg/nX1L8OxsCgg/s72-c/blog-17.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4249973010784999113</id><published>2008-09-19T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:38:56.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They just body snatched me. They're body snatchers."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE7irH_oVI/AAAAAAAABpw/4PUYbxbCo0A/s1600-h/blog-8-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE7irH_oVI/AAAAAAAABpw/4PUYbxbCo0A/s400/blog-8-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341616099915964754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Verbally assaulted, harassment, retaliation all that stuff. They just body snatched me. They're body snatchers. Know what I mean. The cops. They just pulled me out of the cab and fucked me up and put me in jail. Freedom of speech. That's it. They were just there cuffed. I don't know. Just some perps, regular perps. I just got in the mix of a whole drug bust and now I'm out here. They pulled me out and fucked me up. Look at my knee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why me? Why they pulled me out of the fucking cab? No idea. Obstruction of justice, that's what it is. 168th. Street and Saint Nicholas. Fuck em all, fuck em all. All the cops, all the cops. A misdemeanor. I gotta come back. They gave me another court date. It's nothing. I'll be all right. The same old shit, different totally different, smell. You know. This is a day in the life man, of me and all the drama and all the bullshit. Me being harassed. Everyone copying me. Wanting to take my style. Taking it all and not give me the benefits of nothing. You know. That's not cool, not cool. If you respect somebody, you're supposed to give them respect. Why you respect people and they don't respect you. Know what I mean. It's just crazy man. This society is crazy man. They lock up all the wrong people and while all the other people are already... crooked cops are doing the worst, the worst worst worst things out here. Know what I mean. Its gotta stop. Its gotta stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anthony&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 19, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4249973010784999113?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4249973010784999113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4249973010784999113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/verbally-assaulted-harassment.html' title='&quot;They just body snatched me. They&apos;re body snatchers.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE7irH_oVI/AAAAAAAABpw/4PUYbxbCo0A/s72-c/blog-8-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3362695425331258518</id><published>2008-09-16T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:40:01.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I came home one night and I seen a poster of myself, posted on the wall…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE8URwSFOI/AAAAAAAABp4/vo4U_TkXyZY/s1600-h/blog-18.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE8URwSFOI/AAAAAAAABp4/vo4U_TkXyZY/s400/blog-18.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341616952099083490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a court case today and it was fraud. I was lied, I was lied upon. I was, what is it called when they categorize you. I was falsely categorized into being some type of robber whatever and that's not my type of thing, I'm very well taken care of, my family takes care of me, I'm working.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came home one night and I seen a poster of myself, posted on the wall and on the floor I live. A wanted poster. It said wanted for robbery. Yes with my picture on it. Shocked. I was more then shocked. I was angry, I was confused. I just didn't understand why that was happening. I snatched the poster off the wall and went to my closest precinct in my neighborhood. They locked me up. They didn't say anything. No I definitely didn't do it. I had no parts in it. I don't even, robbery is not something I would think of. I have no idea. From what I understand, they didn't even give me the full case. From what I understand, a lady got robbed for her phone. Now I have a phone. My phone is high grade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stefan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 16, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3362695425331258518?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3362695425331258518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3362695425331258518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-had-court-case-today-and-it-was-fraud.html' title='&quot;I came home one night and I seen a poster of myself, posted on the wall…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE8URwSFOI/AAAAAAAABp4/vo4U_TkXyZY/s72-c/blog-18.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-9081935943479322707</id><published>2008-09-09T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:41:35.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I did feel kinda bad I had to take his stuff..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE9TFYSoRI/AAAAAAAABqA/_aaAdsxjzkY/s1600-h/blog-9-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE9TFYSoRI/AAAAAAAABqA/_aaAdsxjzkY/s400/blog-9-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341618031108989202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was arrested for a robbery in the second degree. I was broke, I was hungry and me and my friend robbed somebody. Walked up on somebody in the back of a street, robbed him. He was an average dude. Probably 30 years old, had a backpack on, polo shirt. Nobody else around. Just me and my man and he was walking down the street, just him. Late night like one o'clock at night. Hells Kitchen. Um, cell phone, like a buck fifty on him. He wasn't hurt, he wasn't injured in the situation, but I did feel kinda bad I had to take his stuff yeah. Pretty much. I mean I had no money on me, I was living on the streets so, you know what I mean, I had to eat. The jobs were off and on. It was hard for me to keep a job because I didn't have nowhere to stay. I was sleeping on the street. It's just hard. You gotta figure out when you're gonna eat next, not too many people just going to help you out. I not the kind of person just gonna walk up to someone and asked them for change. There wasn't too many options open to me at that immediate point.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jeremy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 9, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-9081935943479322707?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/9081935943479322707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/9081935943479322707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-was-arrested-for-robbery-in-second.html' title='&quot;I did feel kinda bad I had to take his stuff...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE9TFYSoRI/AAAAAAAABqA/_aaAdsxjzkY/s72-c/blog-9-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3475831059398037935</id><published>2008-09-08T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:42:40.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I was just unhappy my hair wasn't done and I didn't look pretty.."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE94rssgYI/AAAAAAAABqI/NoLrAJ6_qUE/s1600-h/blog-19.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE94rssgYI/AAAAAAAABqI/NoLrAJ6_qUE/s400/blog-19.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341618677050278274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They caught me with weed, some marijuana. They told me to go to the precinct, they won't take me to the bookings if I just gave it to them. Gave it to them, sat for three hours. Took my mugshot. I was just unhappy my hair wasn't done and I didn't look pretty for it. It was pretty fun. Then we left and I actually walked away, easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a hot chick there and I got her number. For a photo shoot. I was like, "hey you want to be a model?" She was like, "yeah." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a photographer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Erica&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 8, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3475831059398037935?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3475831059398037935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3475831059398037935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/09/they-caught-me-with-weed-some-marijuana.html' title='&quot;I was just unhappy my hair wasn&apos;t done and I didn&apos;t look pretty..&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE94rssgYI/AAAAAAAABqI/NoLrAJ6_qUE/s72-c/blog-19.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8124713871570458114</id><published>2008-08-28T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:44:03.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm stressed out and I'm mad..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE_m2a3wAI/AAAAAAAABqY/_klwM0QnWpY/s1600-h/_DSC0820.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE_m2a3wAI/AAAAAAAABqY/_klwM0QnWpY/s400/_DSC0820.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341620569713917954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was walking downtown, midtown with a friend of mine. I wasn't walking with him but I seen him and I had shook his hand and he had made a sale to an undercover cop of some fake marijuana and the police ran up on me and him and took both of us and uhh they said, "I was the lookout and he was the dealer." We gets down there and it comes to find out the marijuana was fake. I didn't sell nothing, I didn't have nothing on me but they still arrest me. I just got out on five hundred dollars bail and I'm stressed out and I'm mad but um this is life, so this is what it is. Come to find out the marijuana that was supposed to be sold was Lipton tea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tyrone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 28, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8124713871570458114?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8124713871570458114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8124713871570458114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-was-walking-downtown-midtown-with.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m stressed out and I&apos;m mad...&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE_m2a3wAI/AAAAAAAABqY/_klwM0QnWpY/s72-c/_DSC0820.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5830789780514679446</id><published>2008-08-28T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:45:16.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They're running amok like the Joker in "The Dark Knight."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE-1oEPdgI/AAAAAAAABqQ/KiMdHGiV6n8/s1600-h/blog-1-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE-1oEPdgI/AAAAAAAABqQ/KiMdHGiV6n8/s400/blog-1-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341619724047316482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm twenty three years old. I was arrested for coming out of a building where there were allegedly cops that actually sell drugs to suspecting buyers in hopes of as soon as they get downstairs or come out the building they're arrested. Coming out of the building I was asked to, "get on the floor" with I believe five or six other African American and Spanish decent males. When we didn't comply right away the officer actually pulled his gun out on me. We were all handcuffed and brought to Central Booking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The things these cops in New York do is ridiculous, they're running amok like the Joker in the Dark Knight. I felt assaulted and disrespected. I knew none of these guys. Like I said I was coming visiting a friend. Unfortunately you know we can't live, all my friends don't live on the upper eastside or in the Trump Towers. I can't control where my friends live. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I couldn't even get in touch with her to go knock on her door to let her know what was happening so that she could explain to them, "you know he just left my apartment." Everybody there had something on them but me and I was still arrested. They all had weed on them and they got it from the officers that were selling it upstairs. It was a sting operation that they do in that area. They get people all day long, all day long. I had nothing on me. Thats why the case was dismissed. I was terrified, I was terrified.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gregory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 28, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5830789780514679446?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5830789780514679446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5830789780514679446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-twenty-three-years-old.html' title='&quot;They&apos;re running amok like the Joker in &quot;The Dark Knight.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiE-1oEPdgI/AAAAAAAABqQ/KiMdHGiV6n8/s72-c/blog-1-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-51128730236118208</id><published>2008-08-27T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:46:28.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Girls are strange. Crazy."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFAczkDdRI/AAAAAAAABqg/aktgAhvwf-s/s1600-h/blog-8-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFAczkDdRI/AAAAAAAABqg/aktgAhvwf-s/s400/blog-8-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341621496660063506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a court case where um I went to jail for um a domestic violence case. Me and my girl we was was living you know together and um we was getting into a lot of you know bad things you know. The first two, it was a three year relationship, the first two years you know were going good and then the last year which was 2007 was you know was going down. We was into you know, I not ashamed to say it you know, "we was into cocaine, you know sniffing." That right there didn't end out good you know, um I regret it because you know, she would do a lot of things for money and that would take away her you know, I know it would take away her, I know it would take away her pride and you know we wouldn't keep up with our hygiene and whatever and so at the end of everything you know I had a fight with her brother which resulted me getting locked up for thirty days, that was in 2007. About um August then um when I came home, cause we used to rent a room, when I came home everything in the room you know was gone, so I found out she took everything you know she just you know left and my stuff was at my godmother house so you know I was a little depressed I didn't have nothing cause she did my clothes wrong, she did my clothes dirty and it really like you know messed me up so um.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She used to play with my feelings, she used to come back and forth saying, "everything would be all right" and I would believe that, so I thought um awhile of her playing with me saying, "everything would be all right" and then her you know like growing more farther away. I decided to like get myself together work, you know, try to go to school and get myself together. Dated new people and she didn't like that, cause when she back and we chilled, you know I broke the whole story down to her and we was like in a remote area you know my friend house but she left me for the day and you know... I had told her the situation so immediately you know she slapped me and I told her, "like you know I'm out, like I don't gotta put up with this, I'm good, I'm good, I don't ever want to see you again." So then, it was four o'clock in the morning at that time and I had to be at work at five. So um there was ten dollars of hers on the dresser, you know her keys, everything she took out of her pockets she put on the dresser and I say,"yo, I gotta go, so um I'm leaving." So I took the ten dollars off the dresser and said, "yo I'm gonna use this for the cab, because if I take the train I'm not gonna have time, I only have two dollars to my name." She didn't say no, she didn't say yes. So she said," you leave right now, I'm gonna cut my hair whatever" and she literally like cuts her hair, little by little and I'm just looking at her and I'm like you know that doesn't do me, that doesn't keep me, you know that doesn't keep me here, that doesn't you know make me, that doesn't make me see anything. You know what I'm saying, so you're not say nothing. I left and when I came back I found out that she said that, "oh I had taken her money, she's stuck down here, no place to go and that I put my hands on her."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have no problem with doing this. My life will be, you know way better. I remember cause it was a long time ago, but like right after that, I started like getting myself together, she was still calling me after you know like she still wanted to see me or whatever and the legal aids, they didn't... they... I had an order of protection, I had an order of protection and um, um right after that, right after she did that, um in February, in February right, she had came back to New York again and then meanwhile I'm in the order of protection and I still let her know that I'm dating somebody, you know she still comes back, you know, shes like, "listen, I've changed you know, like... I don't do what I used to do." She used to prostitute, you know like cause when was doing that stuff you know on drugs. She said, "like I don't do that no more, I'm good, you know things could work out." So I tried it for two weeks. At the end of the two weeks, got into an argument again. Little small argument, say "I'm out again." She does something again. She goes to the precinct and says, that I put up a fight with her, that this guy's no good whatever." So they call me in again. Meanwhile I got proof again, she came around my area, she's right in front of my building when the incident happened, you know telling me to come downstairs, whatever. This time when I went to jail, I went to jail for a week, she was supposed to come the next week to like the um grand jury whatever, she didn't come because she knew that we know what she was doing and then, then they dismissed that one. I stopped picking up her calls. I even stopped picking up like incoming calls, calls that came in private. I stopped picking up those. My trial was Monday and the judge looked at me and it was like, "how old is he? He's twenty one." We don't want to see this guy lose trial cause my lawyer was, "like she can come cry in front of the stand and say you did anything" and I can be doing three to fifteen. So the judge is like, "the best thing I can give you is because I know you don't want a felony on your record is that we'll put a temporary felony on your record, you stay out of trouble for a year and eight months, then we'll take that felony off and that will be that and you don't have to worry about nothing no more" That's it. Girls are strange. Crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jerome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 27, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-51128730236118208?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/51128730236118208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/51128730236118208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-is-court-case-where-um-i-went-to.html' title='&quot;Girls are strange. Crazy.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFAczkDdRI/AAAAAAAABqg/aktgAhvwf-s/s72-c/blog-8-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4773295797505173805</id><published>2008-08-26T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:48:43.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I realized I was being arrested just for sleeping on the couch"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFBYU66PJI/AAAAAAAABqo/xFvgFm8fKkQ/s1600-h/blog-20.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFBYU66PJI/AAAAAAAABqo/xFvgFm8fKkQ/s400/blog-20.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341622519226580114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I live in Brooklyn, New York. I came to court this afternoon because I had to come here to sign up for community service, a non-violent crime for trespassing that I had done, so, I'm just trying to get it over with. That's about it. Yeah. I was in Midtown on 32nd St. in between 5th and Broadway, and it was like around 7 o'clock in the morning, I was waiting for the internet café to open up, they open up at 8 o'clock. So, I went inside a hotel to sit on a couch 'cause I didn't want to stand outside, 'cause I was getting a little tired, so sitting on the couch made me a little extra little tired 'cause I was...I kinda tired from the sun outside, so I sat down on the couch and fell asleep. I woke up, like, 20 minutes later and I realized the police was in front of me with handcuffs, know what I'm sayin'? Telling me I was trespassing and I was getting arrested for this. The La Quinta Hotel. I stayed there the night before, recently before I got locked up, yeah, yeah. It's a spot that everybody goes to, $3.00-an-hour for the internet, know what I'm sayin'? Playing video games and all on the computer. I told the police I was kinda tired, they said they couldn't do anything about it, they just came there to do their job. And that's about it. Nobody in the hotel called them, honestly, I think, like, it was a guest...or probably a guest downstairs, you know what I'm saying? Got a little, like, strung out that somebody was sleeping in the hotel, 'cause the manager knows me, whatever, but, like, he had no control over them locking me up 'cause they still took me, anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They said I can't sleep in the hotel, I said "I just passed out for a little bit, I'm sorry officer, I'll leave right now," he said "only way you're leaving now is in cuffs." Know what I'm sayin'? He told me, give me my name, my I.D., I gave them my I.D., I realized — then I realized...he said "turn around," know what I'm sayin'? I realized I was being arrested just for sleeping on the couch for 20...like, not even 20 minutes. No. Three days' community service, know what I mean? I was in jail for, like, 24 hours, like, almost a little over 24 hours, a little bit, I think. I kinda felt better on the sofa than I did feel in jail. 'Cause I don't have like a violent history, I don't have no crime, I don't have no record, period. Honestly, I should've stayed at home, it would've been more comfortable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jamali&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 26, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4773295797505173805?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4773295797505173805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4773295797505173805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-live-in-brooklyn-new-york.html' title='&quot;I realized I was being arrested just for sleeping on the couch&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFBYU66PJI/AAAAAAAABqo/xFvgFm8fKkQ/s72-c/blog-20.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8187650755602381395</id><published>2008-08-25T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:53:45.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Um I dunno it was very spur of the moment."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF0cE7CXzI/AAAAAAAABrA/Jv18pdDcQRU/s1600-h/blog-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF0cE7CXzI/AAAAAAAABrA/Jv18pdDcQRU/s400/blog-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341678658744639282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I got caught for shoplifting at Bloomingdale's so I got three days of community service. And that's it pretty much. No it was like a one time thing. They called the police and I spent like five hours in jail and then they let me go. Ahh just a shirt. A pretty expensive shirt. I dunno I think like two hundred something dollars. Um I dunno it was very spur of the moment. Pretty much these two like ladies dressed in regular clothes kinda just came up to me and they were oh you know open your bag even though it didn't ring. I still think that's weird cause like, only way they could know is if they have like cameras or looking into dressing rooms. But pretty much yeah, that's it. I dunno I can't tell any other way cause they don't count the amount of items you have when you go into dressing rooms and it didn't ring. It was a Marc Jacobs shirt. It was pretty. Um most likely but probably wouldn't spend that much money on a shirt. No, too much trouble. Too much trouble. I mean it's a stupid thing to do cause you're just end up paying more with all these court dates and like Bloomingdale's is crazy, they make you like pay all this money for like damage even if there's no damage. In the end it doesn't work out.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Darya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 25, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8187650755602381395?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8187650755602381395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8187650755602381395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-got-caught-for-shoplifting-at.html' title='&quot;Um I dunno it was very spur of the moment.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF0cE7CXzI/AAAAAAAABrA/Jv18pdDcQRU/s72-c/blog-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5459299595137196563</id><published>2008-08-25T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:56:27.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"At the time, at the time I was drinking a lot."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFzE2OCoJI/AAAAAAAABqw/Zu5XEHzR79s/s1600-h/blog-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFzE2OCoJI/AAAAAAAABqw/Zu5XEHzR79s/s400/blog-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341677160149196946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:100%;color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I allegedly stole a bottle of liquor from a Mexican restaurant, on, I dunno, somewhere in the fifties, I'm not sure exactly where. I was arrested and put in the Tombs then I was bailed out. Then, from here I went to San Diego. I was living in San Diego for several months. I got picked up on the warrant there and I was held for almost sixty days. They brought me to court and told me they were holding me for another week because they didn't know what New York was doing and then they released me that day, completely inconsistently, with what they had said. Um when I got released I came back here and went to court to clear it up so it wasn't hanging over my head anymore. It got dropped down to a misdemeanor and now its just been going on and on. That was, that was in uh last winter. Last time I came here and now they've given me a court date now on August 18th. that I've just missed. And now I have another court date on December 15th. to come back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It was allegedly gin, Bombay Sapphire. At the time, at the time I was drinking a lot. I was kind of like homeless, alcoholic, doing a lot of drugs and had actually had gotten sent to the hospital the night before. I had woken up from the hospital and pretty much like walked outside, like gone across the street, and uh this is when the incident supposedly occurred. That's, that's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Daland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;August 25, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5459299595137196563?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5459299595137196563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5459299595137196563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-allegedly-stole-bottle-of-liquor-from.html' title='&quot;At the time, at the time I was drinking a lot.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiFzE2OCoJI/AAAAAAAABqw/Zu5XEHzR79s/s72-c/blog-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5184737304021149311</id><published>2008-08-22T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:57:41.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"She said I slapped her. Which I didn't."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF1QDW6puI/AAAAAAAABrI/lTL1VoMjYSA/s1600-h/blog-3.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF1QDW6puI/AAAAAAAABrI/lTL1VoMjYSA/s400/blog-3.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341679551677900514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um, my girl, my girlfriend, my previous girlfriend already suspected me having relationship with someone else, never coulda came, never coulda came at me with evidence and proof. Um threatened me to go to court to have visitation rights, that was the only way I could see my son. She made so difficult for me and she put me through court, made false allegations upon domestic violence abuse on her. When the judge and the DA um took upon to be on my side and dismiss the case cause they saw it was false allegation, false allegation cause of jealousy. So I feel like there's a lot people, there's a lot of people in my situation that's even in prison, that's even in prison now because of domestic violence that's domestic violence is not all the time from a male. It also come, domestic violence come from a female as well. The law don't want to see that, they don't want to face the fact, they just want to see that the male figure is dominated and stronger so therefore he's the abuse one in the relationship, you understand?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She said that I verbally assaulted her, which I did. I spit at her, which I did. She said I slapped her. Which I didn't. It was and it was it was simply because she had a feeling that I was, that I had a woman and females are like that, they can't be with you. Nobody can be with you. You understand what I'm saying? They know that domestic violence right now in this state is priority number one and they, any female in this world knows that just by saying domestic violence they have the guy in the palm of their hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 22, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5184737304021149311?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5184737304021149311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5184737304021149311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/um-my-girl-my-girlfriend-my-previous.html' title='&quot;She said I slapped her. Which I didn&apos;t.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF1QDW6puI/AAAAAAAABrI/lTL1VoMjYSA/s72-c/blog-3.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3113559961548217706</id><published>2008-08-21T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:59:16.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I stole from every store you can name…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF8jUePjzI/AAAAAAAABr4/AQdVMuHkUFs/s1600-h/blog-4.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF8jUePjzI/AAAAAAAABr4/AQdVMuHkUFs/s400/blog-4.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341687579270942514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My story is, it's kinda hard to get a job now days, so I went searching for a job down in SoHo and then the jobs wasn't necessary here so I had to steal, so I went to every store stole. I stole from every store you can name, Urban Outfitters, Levi store, every store. I got caught, eventually. But the whole situation is I that got caught, but the people in the store didn't want to let me go for the other clothes that I stole from the other stores. But the cops said, "it's all right, it's all right, I can have my clothes, just not from the store." The cops left me there and came back, but when he thought I came they hit me and my jaw was wired. Now it's a lawsuit. See you later.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Donta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3113559961548217706?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3113559961548217706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3113559961548217706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-story-is-its-kinda-hard-to-get-job.html' title='&quot;I stole from every store you can name…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF8jUePjzI/AAAAAAAABr4/AQdVMuHkUFs/s72-c/blog-4.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8925185959479252721</id><published>2008-08-21T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:01:09.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"It seems unlikely I'll ever get my phone back."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF7cfDLbMI/AAAAAAAABrw/cRl5oENLXxU/s1600-h/_DSC0118a-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF7cfDLbMI/AAAAAAAABrw/cRl5oENLXxU/s400/_DSC0118a-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341686362339503298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm still trying to get my phone. I'm back here for like the fifth time trying to get my phone. It's really ridiculous. They're giving me the run around. All the numbers that I have gotten so far have been dead ends or no one's answering. Or just defecating on me actually. It seems unlikely I'll ever get my phone back. Like they want to keep it, they're using my daytime minutes, I don't know what's happening right now, I really don't. They've had it now for like a month, a whole month. I estimate my phone bill will probably be in the thousands, or late hundreds, something like that, not a hundred dollars, something like that. Maybe I'll have some new contacts if I ever get it back.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Timothy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8925185959479252721?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8925185959479252721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8925185959479252721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-still-trying-to-get-my-phone.html' title='&quot;It seems unlikely I&apos;ll ever get my phone back.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF7cfDLbMI/AAAAAAAABrw/cRl5oENLXxU/s72-c/_DSC0118a-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1267158498116016291</id><published>2008-08-21T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:02:57.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"fuck you, fuck your life, fuck your dreams, fuck your wife."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF6skuZYOI/AAAAAAAABro/MMqGQJHvqII/s1600-h/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF6skuZYOI/AAAAAAAABro/MMqGQJHvqII/s400/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341685539229229282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I got arrested for peeing and they took my phone, now I'm trying to get my phone back. I went to the precinct, they sent me to property, property sent me to back to the precinct, the precinct sent me back to property, property sent me to the courthouse, courthouse gave me a number to call, I told them I don't have a fucking phone, I can't call a number if I don't have a phone, you guys have my phone, they let me use their phone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me say on the record, I'd like to apologize to the City Of New York for taking a pee. I'd like to apologize to the garbage man that took my pee away in a garbage truck. There's a reason that garbage man gets paid more then the police. I'd like to say fuck the police. Take off your fucking monkey suit. Lets drink a forty and swim naked in the East River. Maybe then we can be friends, until then fuck you, fuck your life, fuck your dreams, fuck your wife. Get out of my face and give me my phone back. That's all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark Mark Mark&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1267158498116016291?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1267158498116016291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1267158498116016291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-i-got-arrested-for-peeing-and-they.html' title='&quot;fuck you, fuck your life, fuck your dreams, fuck your wife.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF6skuZYOI/AAAAAAAABro/MMqGQJHvqII/s72-c/blog-9-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-947139093832871257</id><published>2008-08-18T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:04:17.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Security asked me, why I stole the bag I had on my back?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLc-FWADsI/AAAAAAAABso/pB2YTyghSag/s1600-h/blog-11.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLc-FWADsI/AAAAAAAABso/pB2YTyghSag/s400/blog-11.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342075067159285442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The other day I guess it was Friday, no Saturday afternoon. I was out in Manhattan. I was carrying my backpack which I usually carry all the time. I keep my normal things in there, I usually keep a pad, my phone. You know your normal things you would keep in a bag. I walked into K-Mart to go do some shopping and uh Long Island Railroad. And I think that's under, by Penn Station, underneath Penn Station there. As I walked in everything was, everything was fine, I was looking, everything. I actually actually bought an item. I bought a, I bought a, I think I bought a pair of sunglasses if I'm not, not mistaken. As I was walking out the door I was stopped by security. Security asked me, why I stole the bag I had on my back? The bag is mine, I told them over and over. They didn't hear me. They brought me inside and I was then arrested for shoplifting. They called in the NYPD, who came in and they arrested me. They brought me down into uh the 35th. precinct. Booked me. Put me in a cell there. They then um transported me down here to county court or central booking whatever you would like to call it. And I'm in here ever since, I guess that would have been Sunday morning and I've been here ever since. I've just been released. It's Monday morning and all my charges were dismissed, every one of them, everyone of them. Nobody was able to pinpoint these charges on me. So now I'm going to go see a lawyer and I'm going to see if I can sue K-Mart for having this happen to me. I've lost work. I should be at work today. I lost my whole weekend. I lost my dignity, okay. I'm not a criminal.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robert &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 18, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-947139093832871257?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/947139093832871257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/947139093832871257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/other-day-i-guess-it-was-friday-no.html' title='&quot;Security asked me, why I stole the bag I had on my back?&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLc-FWADsI/AAAAAAAABso/pB2YTyghSag/s72-c/blog-11.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6476001521625629558</id><published>2008-08-18T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T07:50:36.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"It's like a dog make a pee on the wall. I'm animal."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF9p8fCQSI/AAAAAAAABsI/3Y38R01Drfw/s1600-h/_DSC9818.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF9p8fCQSI/AAAAAAAABsI/3Y38R01Drfw/s400/_DSC9818.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341688792602525986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm from Paris , France. i'm here because I write graffiti on the wall. I was with a few friends in the streets, walked down to Astor Place. Like in France I make graffiti, when the Police come and push me in the wall. I wrote just two name. They took me to the 8th. street precinct. I was three or four hours in jail with twenty man. I got a nickname, "Fresh Fish", from this jail. Now I want to come back to France.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My graffiti, just a tag, hispanic writing. Graffiti is a part of my life. I start when i was a kid. Its like a spirit, it's my life. I'm a student in graffiti design. Writing on the wall is like I was here, I was in New York, I was in Paris, I was in Amsterdam. It's like a dog make a pee on the wall. I'm animal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esteban&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 18, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6476001521625629558?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6476001521625629558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6476001521625629558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-from-paris-france.html' title='&quot;It&apos;s like a dog make a pee on the wall. I&apos;m animal.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiF9p8fCQSI/AAAAAAAABsI/3Y38R01Drfw/s72-c/_DSC9818.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-3641468963633452763</id><published>2008-08-15T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:07:33.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Everyone is basically just sitting on the floor packed in there you're like sardines, it's a nightmare."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLdvyF2dmI/AAAAAAAABsw/pTVfK3AN48k/s1600-h/_DSC9672.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLdvyF2dmI/AAAAAAAABsw/pTVfK3AN48k/s400/_DSC9672.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342075920984733282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lovely NYPD brought me here today. Just came to finish up, my community service. Six days. I paid $95.00 after originally arrested for the charge of graffiti. I was basically at a bar down there at Bowery I uh was hanging outside and uh I just met this guy outside and we were talking about, just talking, shooting shit. I said, "like lets go outside for a smoke." I go out there and he like goes too, goes to catch, like climbs up on this thing, next thing I know I see this large like Puerto Rican guy dressed in all fatigues, army fatigues running full speed up the street at us. And I'm like what's going on, I think I'm about to be robbed or killed or something. You know? Next thing I know he pushes me out of the way goes to grab the guy and I'm like, "whoa whoa" trying to break it up like thinking this guys gonna beat his ass or something maybe it's some gang thing, I dunno what's going on. Next thing you know, swarm from all directions, they're throwing me in the car, never once identifying themselves as Police, never showed a badge. I was almost halfway relieved when it was the Police and not just a gang of guys gonna beat me down in the street. But uh, yeah took me down no questions asked right away and I got charged with a charge even though I technically wasn't doing anything as far as I'm concerned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was not. I was just there and basically I just got charged with obstruction of justice and they charged me with graffiti, cause they say I interfered and got in the way and hurt the officers little finger, his pinky was hurt and sprained and the poor guy had to uh, exactly this poor guy is like three times my size, like I supposedly hurt his delicate pinky. Next thing you know I'm whisked away for four days in the courthouse and they hold me down there and you know it was not a pleasant experience, I'll tell you that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the Tombs for four days. It was a nightmare. It's all cheese sandwiches and if you tell them you know you tell them you're a vegetarian, vegan, you don't eat cheese you know they're like well take it off. You know that's their solution. You get that two times a day and then you get a thing of frosted flakes in the morning which you know of course you gotta eat dry if you don't drink milk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was going crazy. You try to drift in and out of sleep. You lose track of time. You hear the same conversations over and over and that's the worst part of like the jailhouse lawyers, everyone's giving you this real great advice in quotations, you know everyone thinks they got the answer but they're in the same place as you. So you know you can't use any advice you hear in there. There's nothing to read. You read the same sign about your like, rights and to be quiet basically a hundred times, it's the only reading material. There's no reading. It's all cold floors and sleep deprivation basically. It's my gist of the whole matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh it's huge. It's really packed there for some reason. It was the weekend and they were just piling us in there. There was like no floor room even for everyone to lay down. Everyone is basically just sitting on the floor packed in there you're like sardines, it's a nightmare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have people you talk to but you, the conversations tend to be, go run in circles. Every time the new people come in they ask the same questions and then you get so tired of hearing the same conversations over and over basically. It's a cycle of the same questions, "when are we gonna go up front? You know let me see the judge, I've been here longer then you, so and so." Pretty much it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To say the least no. But I've paid my dues to society and I'm rehabilitated. They really, they really turned me around. I have a new lease on life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stefan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 15, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-3641468963633452763?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3641468963633452763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/3641468963633452763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/lovely-nypd-brought-me-here-today.html' title='&quot;Everyone is basically just sitting on the floor packed in there you&apos;re like sardines, it&apos;s a nightmare.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLdvyF2dmI/AAAAAAAABsw/pTVfK3AN48k/s72-c/_DSC9672.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8984402863998381062</id><published>2008-08-14T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:11:01.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Don't you think you're spending a little too much."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLe0NfWQII/AAAAAAAABs4/RIi73sQTvjg/s1600-h/blog2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLe0NfWQII/AAAAAAAABs4/RIi73sQTvjg/s400/blog2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342077096570536066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was recently released. I was sentenced to six months, five years probation for possession of cocaine. I was arrested on 119th Street in Harlem. I was dealing cocaine around the area I live. I was arrested January 5th. I walked into a building that was being raided. When I walked in I was tempted top buy marijuana, I had a large amount of drugs on me. So when I walked in they searched me and found everything on me. After that I was taken down to Central Booking, the Tombs, I spent two days there and then I was transfered to Rikers Island. Spent the next 4 1/2 months on Rikers. I saw the Judge, accepted a plea of 6/5 split and was just released.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was into cocaine at the time because of the fact that it was a hard time, I couldn't find a job. i really don't have too much family, more or less on my own. I had to pay my rent. I was living somewhere I had just lost my job. So I had about maybe a few days to pay my rent. I knew you know people that sold drugs, told them could you help me out so I could pay my rent pay for my food. I started that. Thats how it started. I sold to people in the neighborhood um mainly just people in the neighborhood. I never really went outside. I wasn't on the block or nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm selling drugs, it makes me very anti drugs actually the things I've seen from selling drugs the things people do for it. The way they degrade themselves sometimes and things it's just no. Not at all. Ive actually gave a few clients, try to tell them I think you stop you stop. I had um one client that used to spend $550 dollars a week on weed. And I would tell "Don't you think you're spending a little too much."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my opinion drugs, selling drugs in my opinion is not a crime, in my opinion. Drugs are sold everyday pharmaceutical wise throughout the United States its just that you can't tax cocaine you can't tax heroin, you can't tax weed. And statistically speaking more people die from legal drugs cigarettes then they do from cocaine, crack and heroin. About 2,500 people a year die from heroin and about what a few thousand die from cigarettes every year. More people probably O.D. on Percasets and ADD medicine then hard core illegal drugs. I'm not doing a public service but in my opinion at the time I was doing more like an entrepreneurship, an opportunist, I saw a large market, decided to go for it, supplied their demand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jonathan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 14, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8984402863998381062?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8984402863998381062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8984402863998381062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-was-recently-released.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t you think you&apos;re spending a little too much.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLe0NfWQII/AAAAAAAABs4/RIi73sQTvjg/s72-c/blog2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6842520707300620541</id><published>2008-08-13T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:13:37.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"This is the modern day slavery."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLfUkUGrsI/AAAAAAAABtA/oEgQKCGgz0U/s1600-h/_DSC9399+copy.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLfUkUGrsI/AAAAAAAABtA/oEgQKCGgz0U/s400/_DSC9399+copy.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342077652453207746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm at 100 Centre Street, courts. Today my case was dismissed, and I was trying to get my property back and returned, I was arrested for a charge that I didn't commit. I was pepper sprayed, dragged for half a block, and basically robbed by police. Now, I can't get my property back, they're telling me I have to go through all these nonsense channels to go get my property back and in reality my case was dismissed. So the charges that was brought against me, I should just be entitled to get back what is mines. But, they making me go through a whole bunch of stuff that I feel I shouldn't have to, if my case is dismissed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They arrested me for robbery. No. Cause somebody just randomly ran in the street and said "he did it." Cause &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I fit the description, but nobody never came to court and pressed charges against me. And I was telling them that I didn't do it, but they didn't believe me. Why? Because as a child, I made a few mistakes, and my bail, they held me for ransom. My wife came to court, told the judge and my lawyer that she had $1,000 to bail me out. The judge looked at me, looked at my wife, told her "ten-thousand." So I had to scrape up and get out on that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know, man, this is the modern day slavery. And they playing with people's futures. They just lockin' up anybody, and I feel anything that's black is not a criminal, and they really treat everything that's black as a criminal, which, in reality, they shouldn't. It shouldn't be just anybody could just walk up and get somebody locked up without the proper channels of evidence. No evidence. I was accused of having a weapon, when they found me I had no weapon. They said I had...I beat him with a bat. And it was none of that. He had no bruises, none of that, it was a whole bunch of stuff that was false accusations. And then I was suffered....I had to suffer, go through three days in the bullpens, and then get held on a ransom bail, and then released, and then I came to get my hat back, and $19 that was mines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm suing, too. Suing. Mental anguish, loss of wages, pain and suffering, it's a whole bunch of stuff, man. They don't care about us, man. They say "in God they trust," they trust in the green dollar bill. If it ain't green, it ain't right for them. Straight up. I'm being robbed by the system right now, just to get my money back. They robbing me for $19, and a hat. And they robbed me for my time, and days that I spent in jail, that I didn't do nothing, but they ain't give me no "sorry," what they gonna say, "sorry?" They accused me of something that basically I'm being basically gonna be punished for for the rest of my life. It's gonna come up on my record. It say "sealed," but it don't be sealed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 13, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6842520707300620541?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6842520707300620541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6842520707300620541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-at-100-centre-street-courts.html' title='&quot;This is the modern day slavery.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLfUkUGrsI/AAAAAAAABtA/oEgQKCGgz0U/s72-c/_DSC9399+copy.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6086313360525441944</id><published>2008-08-12T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:14:36.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"My dog was shot during the raid…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLgJqTUDqI/AAAAAAAABtI/swdthq0wQvE/s1600-h/blog-10.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLgJqTUDqI/AAAAAAAABtI/swdthq0wQvE/s400/blog-10.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342078564593569442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I pled guilty, I was sentenced to a conditional discharge for possession of drugs, a half a gram of cocaine, that's what I pled to. My house was raided, and I was never shown the search warrant. To this day I was never shown the search warrant. My dog was shot during the raid, and this was all because of somebody who was arrested who was trying to reduce their sentence and they implicated me. I'm not sure who. I'm not positive. I don't want to bring anybody's name up unless I had evidence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, well, I'm in a drug program. I don't use drugs anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They didn't say much, they just offered me a conditional discharge. My wife, my daughter were arrested with me, their cases were dropped. My daughter was, my, also my sixteen-year-old daughter at the time was arrested, and she ended up in the hospital 'cause she was diabetic, no one took care of her while she was arrested, and she had nothing, they had...this was all bogus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I manage real estate, I work for my father, we own real estate on 7th Street where I live, I've been living there all my life. What else you wanna know? Born in New York City, born and raised.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I joined the program voluntarily, but, there was...they just let me off. I just pled guilty and they let me off. I guess they had a lack of evidence, weak case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anything else you wanna know, Steve?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;George&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 12, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6086313360525441944?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6086313360525441944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6086313360525441944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-i-pled-guilty-i-was-sentenced-to.html' title='&quot;My dog was shot during the raid…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLgJqTUDqI/AAAAAAAABtI/swdthq0wQvE/s72-c/blog-10.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2184808677962931046</id><published>2008-08-11T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:16:53.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The thing about the sweeps, mostly mostly blacks get arrested."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLg-o6uzQI/AAAAAAAABtQ/JenkvG96YCA/s1600-h/blog.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLg-o6uzQI/AAAAAAAABtQ/JenkvG96YCA/s400/blog.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342079474755095810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to come to court mainly because I sold weed to an undercover cop and they gave me court dates to see the judge. I'm fulfilling the court dates so I won't get locked up. Nah... I'm innocent, I'm guilty, I'm guilty. I did sell the weed to undercover cops so I'm guilty, I pleaded guilty. I'm ok with that. It's a misdemeanor. I'm not worried about it. Once I keep going to court they're going to dismiss it. If they see I'm coming to court so they're going to dismiss it. As long as I don't sell no more weed to uncover cop, I'm good money. While I got this open case cause right now my case is still open. If I do something wrong I have a chance of going to jail for sixty, ninety days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They were doing a sweep. They call that um a spotlight sweep. Where as it's almost Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, all four five boroughs they had a spotlight sweep. Where all the criminals, actually where all the criminals go it was mass arrests, it was about maybe a thousand arrests, in Manhattan only, in Manhattan only. Its about six hundred, seven hundred arrests in a spotlight sweep. And then the thing about the sweeps, mostly mostly blacks get arrested. You know, for no crimes. Like putting their foot on the chair in the subway, maybe open container, you know a lot of them were in jail for a lot of bullshit. Where as you got people out selling hand grenades, guns and missiles, drugs, so far it's um heavy drugs like crack and cocaine. That's um, that's um, those controlled substance. Luckily I have marijuana. I sold marijuana. I don't mess with I don't mess with hard drugs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kevin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 11, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2184808677962931046?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2184808677962931046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2184808677962931046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-to-come-to-court-mainly-because.html' title='&quot;The thing about the sweeps, mostly mostly blacks get arrested.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLg-o6uzQI/AAAAAAAABtQ/JenkvG96YCA/s72-c/blog.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7321459869463874880</id><published>2008-08-07T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:18:52.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"She doesn't even remember any of this because she was so high."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLhm9r5e_I/AAAAAAAABtY/rA9Py2A6seg/s1600-h/_DSC9045.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLhm9r5e_I/AAAAAAAABtY/rA9Py2A6seg/s400/_DSC9045.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342080167524793330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;What brought me to court was last time I got arrested last week, I went to court and they told me, I got arrested for drinking a beer in Tompkins Square park in the lower east side, but when they brought me to court they said I skipped three days of community service which I did and I previously agreed to spend fifteen days in jail if I missed the community service. I pleaded with the judge, and said, "my father died so I went to Maryland for a month and thats the only reason I skipped my community service." So she actually gave me a second chance at getting community service. So when I signed up for community service and they gave me the dates to appear I got drunk again and lost the paper work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also missed two day community service, from a previous crime which, let me think what it was stealing books from Barnes and Noble. What books? Umm I don't even remember. Actually, weird thing it wasn't me that stole the books, I was there with my wife. She had taken a few Xanax you know Xanax bars, like two milligrams Xanax they look like bars. I was up cruising the sci-fi section on the fourth floor and came down to the third floor and saw my wife laying on the ground passed out with a grocery bag full of books and I woke her up and said "Stephanie what are doing? Come on let's get out of here." and she's like, "No come on I gotta take these books." Before I woke her up I poured all of the books out of the bag and put them back on the shelf even though it was the wrong shelf I just stuffed them there. As she was walking with me and I was trying to get her out of the store she kept grabbing books off the shelf and was throwing in the bag over and over again. And I kept saying, "Stephanie stop this is ridiculous, everyone can see you, this is so stupid." But she was so high on Xanax she kept doing it, oh this is ridiculous and you know I couldn't grab the books out of the bag fast enough. And then by the time we got to the escalator two undercover cops or security guards there had grabbed both of us and said, "Come with me." So we both got charged with stealing the books. She doesn't even remember any of this because she was so high. I mean its not the kind of thing she would do sober. But pills kind of whack you out, obviously. So we both got charged with that. Instead of spending any jail time we just spent a couple of days in there and then they just gave us each two days of community service. That was actually when my dad died and we both went to Maryland for a month and that's why we didn't do those days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 7, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7321459869463874880?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7321459869463874880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7321459869463874880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-brought-me-to-court-was-last-time.html' title='&quot;She doesn&apos;t even remember any of this because she was so high.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLhm9r5e_I/AAAAAAAABtY/rA9Py2A6seg/s72-c/_DSC9045.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5374260069961488282</id><published>2008-08-06T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:20:24.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I just gotta clear my name.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLjC62qYzI/AAAAAAAABtg/UZKLUEkqwX0/s1600-h/blog-5.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLjC62qYzI/AAAAAAAABtg/UZKLUEkqwX0/s400/blog-5.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342081747312599858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went for a job interview and I got the job and then a week later they fired me talking about that I was arrested for Grand Larceny on January 3rd., 2002 and January 17th. 2002 in Manhattan. I've never been arrested in Manhattan. When I came down here I came down to figure out what's going, they're telling me this person has a couple of aliases. Now I have to go to One Police Plaza to get fingerprinted to prove this is not me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They did a criminal background check and this popped up. When I went to the Bronx Community Criminal Court to ask why this is coming up they were telling me the person used a couple of aliases like Ramon Gonzalez, Roberto Diaz. He has no address but has my birthdate. He just used that. I don't know why, I don't know how either. I'm thinking it might be a guy who knows me and used my name and birthdate. But I can't figure out that until the file comes back six to eight weeks from today showing me a picture, showing me the fingerprint, right now I'm going to get fingerprinted just to prove it's not me. Because I have been arrested before and took fingerprints and this never came up. But I'd like to press charges, even if I know him. Its false identity. Cause he used the name Ramon Gonzalez which means he's just going using different. He just destroyed my life right now. I just lost a twenty two dollar an hour job. Whatever happens to him happens to him. I just gotta clear my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roberto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;August 6, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5374260069961488282?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5374260069961488282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5374260069961488282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-went-for-job-interview-and-i-got-job.html' title='&quot;I just gotta clear my name.&apos;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLjC62qYzI/AAAAAAAABtg/UZKLUEkqwX0/s72-c/blog-5.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6128943943994961919</id><published>2008-07-31T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:21:43.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I had to spend eighteen hours in jail with a pink bustier and stiletto heels on."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLnDrIr8yI/AAAAAAAABtw/JpbkUR4nu9U/s1600-h/blog-8.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLnDrIr8yI/AAAAAAAABtw/JpbkUR4nu9U/s400/blog-8.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342086158319612706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was in Kane nightclub it's on west 28th. street. I was with three of my girlfriends. We were all very intoxicated. Two of them started getting into an argument and one of them was getting thrown out and as she was getting thrown out she screamed out, "grab my bag" because the bouncer was grabbing her out, there was about eight clutches on the thing. I'm drunk. I pick one up. I go outside some girl starts screaming out, "where's my bag, where's my bag." I pull out the bag I was like this isn't yours some guy grabs my arm looks like he just came out of the club. I told him, "get the fuck off of me" and turns out to be a cop that arrested me for grand larceny. And I had to spend eighteen hours in jail with a pink bustier and stiletto heels on. The girl must of realized it was a misunderstanding. She pressed charges while I was in the precinct and then she didn't cooperate with the DA, so I just had to show up three times before she, before that happens. So like before it got dismissed which is the last time I ever had to see this building ever again, because I do not belong in places like this, at all. I'm not a criminal. It was a misunderstanding. A drunken misunderstanding.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vlada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 31, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6128943943994961919?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6128943943994961919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6128943943994961919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-in-kane-nightclub-its-on-west.html' title='&quot;I had to spend eighteen hours in jail with a pink bustier and stiletto heels on.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLnDrIr8yI/AAAAAAAABtw/JpbkUR4nu9U/s72-c/blog-8.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7203675720057988380</id><published>2008-07-31T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:23:24.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You know. I'm homeless. I go to the bath houses and take a shower."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLlLPjdqXI/AAAAAAAABto/hy-4LVZqsgE/s1600-h/blog-7.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLlLPjdqXI/AAAAAAAABto/hy-4LVZqsgE/s400/blog-7.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342084089331427698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zullo Paul, Pul heh I'm not all there. My last name is Paul, my first name. My last name... is Zullo. I was drinking all night. Just a crime that's all. Fighting. Some guy over there in the park. Some guy I don't know. I've never seen him before. I stay there sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One in the building there I broke his telephone, his walkie talkie. I smashed it on the floor because I was picking up cans. I didn't even know it, I seen it by the telephone so I picked it up and I threw it on the floor, he says, "Oh my phone, my phone". And it was right across by the curb. So he's taking me to court. The other guys taking me to court too. Both people are taking me to court. For fighting. I've haven't gotten in trouble since they let me go. I didn't even touch the guy, I didn't even hit him or nothing. He's bleeding from his finger. And they took me and put me, fucking stun gun me, all over my body. The five precinct. They let me go. He was looking for trouble from me and I was looking for trouble from him. They was cursing me out over there. They don't like white guys. He was a black guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I go to parks and different areas to pick up cans just to eat something. I don't got no were to go, You know. I'm homeless. I go to the bath houses and take a shower. In the park. Any park, any park to sleep, lay your head down. Nobody bother you. No I don't ask for no money. Thats why I pick up cans not to bother people. Yeah I go to the machine every day to cash in cans. Yeah I wait over here seven thirty everyday. Sometimes they come by sometimes they hold food for me. Outside. It's all right. You get used to it. I'm used to the cold. But sometimes it gets so cold I go in the shelters sometimes. Just for a night You can't help where you gotta go. Some place to go. Not living in the street to die, freeze to death. It don't bother me. It bothers other people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July, 31, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7203675720057988380?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7203675720057988380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7203675720057988380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/zullo-paul-pul-heh-im-not-all-there.html' title='&quot;You know. I&apos;m homeless. I go to the bath houses and take a shower.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLlLPjdqXI/AAAAAAAABto/hy-4LVZqsgE/s72-c/blog-7.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8507476392092555091</id><published>2008-07-30T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:25:33.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"A dog can take a pee and I can't."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLn9dcAX1I/AAAAAAAABt4/0BsOvS9mPgQ/s1600-h/blog-9.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLn9dcAX1I/AAAAAAAABt4/0BsOvS9mPgQ/s400/blog-9.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342087151074959186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was walking down Ludlow Street and uh I guess a Police Officer who I've had interactions actions with in the past spotted me and followed me about four or five blocks, uh watched me take a pee in an alley in some garbage, in the rain and then followed me another two blocks and then put handcuffs on me and then took me to jail for which I spent twenty hours in a holding cell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And was uh was released with credit for time served. Feel like it was kind of a rip off. Twenty hours in a thirty man cell, it's freezing cold for taking a pee when there's no public restrooms available is pretty bogus. I think if you're going to arrest someone for having to go to the bathroom you should maybe provide public toilets. I'm from San Francisco, they have pay toilets there at least on the street. There's no business that will open their restrooms to non paying customers. So if I don't have five dollars to buy a sandwich and I have to go to the bathroom I guess that means I'm going to go jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was going to say I watched my urine get washed away in the rain as my handcuffs were being put on me, it's pretty ironic, you know. my crime was erased and I was going to jail for a few hours, twenty hours. A dog can take a pee and I can't. I guess they have more rights then I do. Right. I'm watching a cop ride a horse taking a dump that I got to ride over on my bicycle and I can't take a piss on a pile of trash. You know. Fuck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark Mark Mark&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 30, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8507476392092555091?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8507476392092555091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8507476392092555091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-walking-down-ludlow-street-and-uh.html' title='&quot;A dog can take a pee and I can&apos;t.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLn9dcAX1I/AAAAAAAABt4/0BsOvS9mPgQ/s72-c/blog-9.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7298250375142397919</id><published>2008-07-29T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:27:28.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"These people are completely disgusting. "</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLo-TfnAFI/AAAAAAAABuA/SUrTPOgyDs4/s1600-h/blo.jpgg.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLo-TfnAFI/AAAAAAAABuA/SUrTPOgyDs4/s400/blo.jpgg.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342088265097216082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was arrested for a demonstration on the fifth anniversary of the war in Iraq at the headquarters of L3 Communications which is a huge, the third largest war profiteer in the nation. They bought off all the employees from Abu Grab after the Abu Grab scandal broke. They produce guidance systems for missiles. They have one of the largest private militaries in the world. Its a huge corporation they own the majority of the fiber optic cables on the Atlantic Ocean. They're pretty big. What we did is we rushed it and chained ourselves in the revolving doors of the headquarters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah the cops dislocated his shoulder because he went limp when he was pulled out of the doorway umm and so once we were thrown in the paddy wagon he had to actually heave himself up against the wall to relocate his shoulder, but he did not file a complaint because his priority was to get out of jail as quickly as possible which is certainly understandable. From there we were taken to the mass arrest unit and then transferred to the tombs here we sat for about twenty four hours. My friends actually were in a different cell and watched someone die here and their body be taken away which was fairly disturbing for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L3 has the last time I checked one of their branches called the NPRI has one of the largest private militaries in the world,  I think 12,000 special ops. They do all of the interrogation i.e. torture in Iraq, Afghanistan and Guantanamo Bay. These are the people that provide the tortures for Guantanamo Bay. If the military doesn't want to do it themselves because of legal issues so its a lot easier, to just, hey you go ruin someone's life and then we're not held accountable. A huge corporation which not a lot of people know about, they haven't gotten a lot of negative press. They're pretty unknown compared to like Blackwater.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Corporations like this they exist on making profits on people being hurt and being killed in places that most Americans will never see and really don't think about. These people are completely disgusting. They come in to work everyday you know dressed in their suits living a nice highlife and don't even think about the fact that the paperwork their filling out is leading to ruining peoples lives, to killing people every single day and know one knows about this, but even if they did, even when you tell people about this they're fairly apathetic because they think it's business as usual just another evil corporation which in a way makes sense, but this particular corporation is even larger, even more violent and worse for the average person then most of the ones which you'll see out there. Which is why we did what we did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gerald&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 29, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7298250375142397919?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7298250375142397919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7298250375142397919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-arrested-for-demonstration-on.html' title='&quot;These people are completely disgusting. &quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLo-TfnAFI/AAAAAAAABuA/SUrTPOgyDs4/s72-c/blo.jpgg.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2469818937116456014</id><published>2008-07-28T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:28:25.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I kicked one of the cops in the nuts three times…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqO0Ya9xI/AAAAAAAABuI/S7pLQPoSpJU/s1600-h/blog2+copy.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqO0Ya9xI/AAAAAAAABuI/S7pLQPoSpJU/s400/blog2+copy.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342089648314971922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was in Stuyvesant apartment complex when these cops where harassing my girlfriend. They threw her against the wall and put her in cuffs and bruised her so I kicked one of the cops in the nuts three times and then spat in another another cops face and then they beat the shit out of me. Bloody and took me off to jail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh she's just yelling at them, it's a long story. They were trying to take me somewhere, like someplace. But we weren't trespassing. I don't know it's a long story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was (she) just yelling at them. They took too much force. They shouldn't have because she's a small little girl. They used excessive force. Her parents came down... and said that she lives here. But I got in trouble because I hit the cops. Actually I'm proud and happy that I hit the cops. They deserve it. I feel better. Now I feel better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 28, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2469818937116456014?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2469818937116456014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2469818937116456014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-in-stuyvesant-apartment-complex.html' title='&quot;I kicked one of the cops in the nuts three times…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqO0Ya9xI/AAAAAAAABuI/S7pLQPoSpJU/s72-c/blog2+copy.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6215017437831079385</id><published>2008-07-25T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:30:10.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Somebody did obviously steal the phone."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqzvowcWI/AAAAAAAABuQ/y2wK0PwwxDg/s1600-h/blog-12.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqzvowcWI/AAAAAAAABuQ/y2wK0PwwxDg/s400/blog-12.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342090282696470882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;They said that I was in possession of stolen property, of a cell phone. So, you know. I bought it off a guy in the street for $10, and I went to return the phone, and got arrested for it. I called the person up, she said she wanted to meet me, I went to meet her, and she was a undercover officer, and they locked me up for it. Yeah, she called me first. She said "do you have my phone?" I said "yes, I have your phone." She said "how much did you pay for the phone?" I told her "ten dollars." She said "well, I'll give you double the amount for the phone back," and I agreed, and she wanted a place to meet, and we met, and it was undercover officers there, and they arrested me, locked me up for possession of stolen property.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I made, like, two phone calls on the phone. I woulda continued to pay for it, no problem, I bought the phone, so...I woulda continued to pay for the service. I mean, eventually somebody would start billing you, if you got a phone, of course. Or, it's gonna turn off. One or the other. I don't know, all they gotta do is call. Yeah, call me and say "who this?" I would say "this is Cori, and I got your phone," or whatever, you know, "I would like to continue services on the phone," or whatever the case may be. I mean, but you can buy phones and then get the service changed on them, you know, so it's nothing. It wasn't like I stole the phone, I didn't steal the phone. Somebody did obviously steal the phone. Possession of stolen property, yeah, right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She asked me who I was...I met her on 113th St. and 1st Ave., and she explained who she was, and she asked me if I had a phone, I said "yeah," I went to get her phone, whole bunch of police jumped out. Big thing for a little phone. What could I say? They asked me where I get the phone from, I said "I bought it." Never buy phones off the streets. You know, I gotta go to a store and do like everybody else does. I'm not really interested in phones, long as I can make a call, you know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cori&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 25, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6215017437831079385?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6215017437831079385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6215017437831079385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/they-said-that-i-was-in-possession-of.html' title='&quot;Somebody did obviously steal the phone.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLqzvowcWI/AAAAAAAABuQ/y2wK0PwwxDg/s72-c/blog-12.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-7844312585799418897</id><published>2008-07-24T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:31:56.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I never sold the dude a bag."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLrXOxYNTI/AAAAAAAABuY/9zXT7aQWEjw/s1600-h/blog-13.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLrXOxYNTI/AAAAAAAABuY/9zXT7aQWEjw/s400/blog-13.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342090892349551922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somebody had gave me a dollar that they owed me for two weeks on 125th. Street and Lexington Avenue and the police they seen it and talk about observed me doing sale. I never sold the dude a bag. The dude told them I never sold a bag of weed. They let him go and kept me. They give me time served for no apparent reason. For a dollar, for a dollar bill. The 25th. Precent is corrupt. man. The Manhattan North Squad this is corrupt, this is corrupt. For no reason they just locking everybody up. They got a thousand people downstairs that's in there for no reason. Cause they think they saw something or they just standing around for no reason. And there charging them for bullshit charges. You know and it's wrong. It's really wrong. And I don't know what else to say. I'm just pissed off. I got another charge for no reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He had a bag of weed in his pocket, they didn't catch me with no drugs in my pocket, they caught me with one dollar, one dollar, it's the same dollar that they seen him give him. Was the only dollar I had in my pocket. It's right here, it's right here, thats it. And I'm going through the system for no apparent reason. And this is wrong, you know this dude got let out with no charges against him. I'm the one that's holding the charges and I never sold no marijuana in my life. That hurts my feeling and I don't know what else to say. This wrong, you know. This is wrong, injustice. Somebody needs to do something about that. If you can help make a change. I'll start a rally with you. I'll start a march with you. I'll do something with you. This is serious. They're going all over Harlem picking up people for no apparent reason. Randomly, stopping you. Ay up you looking like you're doing something wrong, well we are going to take you downtown. No reason. Undercovers. These are all undercover cops. They'll sit there and see you from a mile away, talking about they see you doing sale. But how could you seeing me doing sale when I only have a dollar in my pocket. How is that? No drugs no nothing was found on me. He gave me the dollar. No drugs no nothing was found. No nothing. They stripped searched me. No nothing was found. And nobody is helping me. You know. This is wrong. This is wrong. I just wanna go home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Craig&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 24, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-7844312585799418897?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7844312585799418897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/7844312585799418897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/somebody-had-gave-me-dollar-that-they.html' title='&quot;I never sold the dude a bag.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLrXOxYNTI/AAAAAAAABuY/9zXT7aQWEjw/s72-c/blog-13.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-4618251416185069575</id><published>2008-07-23T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:34:09.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The ambulance broke the mans jaw…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLsmxyu3VI/AAAAAAAABuo/UAsRAJdkLTk/s1600-h/blog2-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLsmxyu3VI/AAAAAAAABuo/UAsRAJdkLTk/s400/blog2-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342092258960137554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was proceeding, I was traveling ah eastbound on ah westbound on east 96th. Street off the FDR drive. I was exiting my intersection of a five lane intersection of the uptown traffic of first avenue, a a ambulance was, I was going through my fifth lane of an intersection, all of a sudden an ambulance comes flying through the red light... with his ambulance but without proceeding with caution and clips me in the back rear quarter panel the axel of my Hummer H2 and flipped it up over on its side. I popped the seatbelt and climbed out the sunroof. I said you know I seem to be ok. They said no you go lay down. I said I gotta get my cell phone, I gotta contact people and everything you know. They said, "No lay down, you got hit too hard you have go to the hospital." I said, "Is this by any chance the same ambulance company that hit me?" They said "no". But ahh their all in cahoots. Cause they took me away and the accident report turned around the accident report wound up being false, saying that I entered the intersection late and that I struck the ambulance and decided to flip on my side. You know. Then while I'm in the hospital they put handcuffs on me because I didn't know my license was uh too many points, I paid on line but I didn't realize I didn't pay all the fees and my license is suspended. So I had to come over here to the tombs. And uh by time I got bailed out I was almost in the tombs. I only do weekends, I was never locked up for good, I only do weekends in this city.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're trying to charge me for injuring three three three three other human beings and two passengers and a pedestrian which I was struck by my side, only reason why I survived was because I was in a big hummer. The ambulance broke the mans jaw or the person that was in the back and the woman that was driving broke her elbow. Maybe because she was on the phone. I dunno. They hit a pedestrian cause my vehicle didn't hit nobody. They said I hit the pedestrian, they said I broke this guys jaw, they said I injured everybody, they won't give me a court appointed lawyer. I have to go against myself. They say ah you not have a good chance. But I'm going to do it anyway. This is the second time representing myself in a case. I'm charged with reckless endangerment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My hummer it was still ok. But the insurance company considered it totaled because they want to resell it. It has a couple of boo–boos on one side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thomas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 23, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-4618251416185069575?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4618251416185069575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/4618251416185069575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-proceeding-i-was-traveling-ah.html' title='&quot;The ambulance broke the mans jaw…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLsmxyu3VI/AAAAAAAABuo/UAsRAJdkLTk/s72-c/blog2-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-6477850108019114637</id><published>2008-07-21T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:35:45.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm a big dude. Why would I hit a 150 pound female."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL44OmTwFI/AAAAAAAABvo/oHjVj_0dHD4/s1600-h/_DSC7280.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL44OmTwFI/AAAAAAAABvo/oHjVj_0dHD4/s400/_DSC7280.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342105752889966674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um, my girl got me arrested for accusing me I was hitting her, which I wasn't. And um and all of a sudden she called the cops and I got arrested and thank God she didn't put no charges on me so I got to come back in court September 5th. and hopefully I hope everything be all right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well cause she dumb like that. She tried to cheat and all that, you know what I'm saying. I was living with her and all that you know. She's um that type of female. I don't what's wrong with her man, for real, seriously. She's um. Yeah man she's a little bit psycho. Yeah. I could say that. But you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No I did not. I'm a big dude. Why would I hit a 150 pound female. And she claimed I was carrying a weapon. Where's the weapon? I could say that. They never say about the weapon or what kind of weapon, I didn't have no kind of weapon in my hand. You know what I'm saying. All I'm saying you know and they take me down just like that. And a matter of fact they owe me sixty dollars. I don't know where the hell to go get my sixty dollars.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They took my money because I got a hundred and sixty dollars in my pocket, they say it's so much money for me to carry, to go to jail whatever. Now I've been polling and they say they don't know where the sixty dollars at. I don't what is the point they give me the, this paper for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I've moved on and I've found myself a new apartment so I'm not with her anymore. I found myself a new girl so now I'm good, I'm happy now man. You know. Jail is not a good thing to be man. It is totally uncomfortable. This is my first time and I hope that it will be my last time also. That's about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-6477850108019114637?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6477850108019114637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/6477850108019114637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/um-my-girl-got-me-arrested-for-accusing.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m a big dude. Why would I hit a 150 pound female.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL44OmTwFI/AAAAAAAABvo/oHjVj_0dHD4/s72-c/_DSC7280.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1454703381004589666</id><published>2008-07-21T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:37:11.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm being recorded right now of course I ain't do anything…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL4K7YioxI/AAAAAAAABvg/NLu4gkPf2rs/s1600-h/blog2-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL4K7YioxI/AAAAAAAABvg/NLu4gkPf2rs/s400/blog2-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342104974637835026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm being accused of a conspiracy with a big high profile case uptown Manhattan. They got to do with um rapper ....... and um that tied into 132nd., 132nd. and Lenox Avenue and all that got caught up in some big um what they call the New York City rap police and um they raided a car... then they got everybody's ID's and stuff and I guess later on that week they got um fake warrants and tried to hit up the addresses of everybody that was in that car with the rapper. You know. So they bum rushed all of our houses and um didn't catch nothing but um they tried to formulate the case, fabricate the case with him with some gun charges and another rapper that got murder and they got me involved in all types of things right now and all reality the statement to the police the rap police, the narcotics and everything don't say nothing about me but since it's a high profile case right now they trying to get me involved. So now they're changing it 111, August 4th. so we going to be a lot of Paparazzi and everybody out here because you know the rappers are coming too. That's my case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They saying, they, they, whatever they charging 'em with, all the counts they charging them with and the conspiracies which are manslaughter, murder, putting hits out, drug trafficking, drug distributing, things like that. That's my case also. Conspiracy hold everything together. Conspiracy to murder, conspiracy to drug trafficking articles, 78's, they doing all type of things now. They trying to come with some crossing and within the constitutions over there in Columbia State you know where the border line of, what's that, Maryland and D.C., and all of that? They charging us out there right now with Article IV, which is trafficking from different states into the Columbia District. It's just a whole fucking bullshit. Lawyers just wanna get money from people and judge, district attorney, they wanna work deals and just put a dirty jacket on people you know. Yeah I was in the car we was in a Maybach you know it was a Maybach we was all in there we came from a party. We was out in Jersey and we headed this way but they was trailing us all the way through. And there was um some weed smoking in the car and all that so that gives them other grounds so why stop the car whatever. It was all bullshit though. You know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey. I'm being recorded right now of course I ain't do anything, what am I supposed to say. Supposed to say I did. Ha ha ha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Juan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21. 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1454703381004589666?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1454703381004589666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1454703381004589666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-being-accused-of-conspiracy-with-big.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m being recorded right now of course I ain&apos;t do anything…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL4K7YioxI/AAAAAAAABvg/NLu4gkPf2rs/s72-c/blog2-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8212316034934563891</id><published>2008-07-21T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:38:13.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You like the high. I like the high."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLwMXG7PdI/AAAAAAAABvY/YWrNH5cCyWc/s1600-h/_DSC7220-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLwMXG7PdI/AAAAAAAABvY/YWrNH5cCyWc/s400/_DSC7220-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342096203166989778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was in court. I got caught for trespassing with a crack pipe and a couple of vials of crack coming out of an abandoned building smoking crack. Crack house. That's it. I got busted Friday, Friday morning, now I'm just getting out. I was arraigned this morning, so they gave me time served.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically I'm 45 so basically out of my life I say like 100 times [been arrested]. How long I been, most I ever did time was seven years. All together. My last felony was in 2002. Basically I'm still getting high. I'm trying to get it together right now. I panhandle some time but i ain't like out here like trying to steal or go back to jail so I ask people for money or I help people do things as far as supermarkets... help them pack bags or stuff like that. Sometimes i go to Port Authorities help people with their luggage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest with you I like the drug I ain't gonna lie to you. I feel I feel like...mmm... I can't be...you know, you be in your own space. Know what I mean? Ain't really, can't really say, it's just the high...you like the high. I like the high. I don't know anybody else like the high, but I like the high. It make you feel numb. 'Cause you can...be invisible, ain't nobody can feel you but your higher power. You know? That's it. So, that's why I like getting high.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jerome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8212316034934563891?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8212316034934563891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8212316034934563891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-was-in-court.html' title='&quot;You like the high. I like the high.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLwMXG7PdI/AAAAAAAABvY/YWrNH5cCyWc/s72-c/_DSC7220-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1265208351669300827</id><published>2008-07-21T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:40:49.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I really don't regret it with the exception of catching AIDS…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvr-TekQI/AAAAAAAABvQ/8FRnxaS_dd4/s1600-h/_DSC7224-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvr-TekQI/AAAAAAAABvQ/8FRnxaS_dd4/s400/_DSC7224-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342095646752936194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Attempted burglary in the third degree. My my crime is actually getting arrested three weeks after September 11th.. I walked into a building and I'll tell the truth I got high. And I walked back out. The doors are open, they charged me since I was a convicted burglar and a career criminal they said I was gonna break it. I got arrested October 4, 2001. And I had a very incompetent attorney and a judge does not like career criminals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sixty in New York State [arrested]. You know but I'm disabled. so I can't work. I've had AIDS for 22 years so what choice do I have. If I get a minimum wage job I'm gonna lose all my benefits, my medication cost over $2500 a month. So if I get a minimum job they'll pay for your medication but they won't pay for your doctors. I can't live on minimum wage job. I couldn't afford a place on minimum wage job. Now the city pays $2000 a month for my rent... they pay $2700 for my medication. Now how am I supposed to be able to get a job when only... I have a union card, I'm a union bug, I'm a carpenter but thats still, I'm not going to have enough money to pay for these things. You're talking about $40,000 a year just for rent and medication.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I live on the Grand Concourse, Grand Concourse and Fordam Road in the Bronx. I live in a hotel, SRO hotel. You know it's like the city decided that, Rudolph Giuliani decided that in his infinite wisdom to make these hotel that only AIDS, only people with AIDS live in so they can provide you with social services, but all they did was put you in a hotel with, the majority of people, I'm not from New York originally so you know, my family is not here to help me. Most of these people have done so much dirt so their family won't help them. They're filled, you know they're drug infested, you're trying to do the right thing it's very hard to do that. You know I'm too old to go back to jail. I'm 53. So I do not want to go back to jail anymore. I know if I get high, I'm gonna go do the crack because I don't have money to get high and then it's going to be off to the races and sooner or later I'm going to be back in here in the basement again, my life's going to be over essentially cause next time it's going to be life you know. It's a little late in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean I was pretty successful. I've haven't done a lot of time in prison. I've went all over the world with the money I've made you know. I'll tell you something. I would not make these choices again but I really don't regret it with the exception of catching AIDS which has really nothing to do with my criminal lifestyle. I enjoyed myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thomas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1265208351669300827?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1265208351669300827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1265208351669300827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/attempted-burglary-in-third-degree.html' title='&quot;I really don&apos;t regret it with the exception of catching AIDS…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvr-TekQI/AAAAAAAABvQ/8FRnxaS_dd4/s72-c/_DSC7224-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-8157968924154491154</id><published>2008-07-21T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:41:48.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm a grown woman. I don't like disrespect."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvIwF3Q-I/AAAAAAAABvI/WJK2-heJNjY/s1600-h/_DSC7343-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvIwF3Q-I/AAAAAAAABvI/WJK2-heJNjY/s400/_DSC7343-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342095041642316770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;My court case. Nothing just assaults. Some man, I don't know his name to tell you the truth. No. It was self defense, he hit me first and I hit him. I was walking down the street and you know he made a comment about my body and then i said your mother, tried to be slick. And he hit me and I hit him. My butt whatever. Yeah. He called the police. He hit me. I cracked his head. He just gave me a black eye and I cracked his head up with my phone. Then he called the police and I waited for the police and I figured they was going to arrest both of us since I waited and they wound up arresting me. And he never showed up to court today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I was drunk. I'm a woman. If you want to approach me you talk to me a different way. You know what I mean? You don't talk to someone, you don't try to get somebody's number by saying you got a big butt or nice breasts. You know what I mean. I'm a grown woman. I don't like disrespect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nina&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-8157968924154491154?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8157968924154491154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/8157968924154491154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-court-case.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m a grown woman. I don&apos;t like disrespect.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLvIwF3Q-I/AAAAAAAABvI/WJK2-heJNjY/s72-c/_DSC7343-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5641454672208664110</id><published>2008-07-21T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:43:06.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I think this is fucking bullshit actually."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLuYybWffI/AAAAAAAABvA/MiGvLNZrG_s/s1600-h/_DSC7370.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLuYybWffI/AAAAAAAABvA/MiGvLNZrG_s/s400/_DSC7370.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342094217635593714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Republican National Convention, about four years ago I guess now. For disorderly conduct. We were rounded up in ah protests uh and they put us all in holding cells and then I don't know, they put us on our way and now four years later it's coming up in my work background check that um... there's a discrepancy that I had a warrant still out for my arrest but I didn't, they can't even find me in the system, so now I have to go for a criminal background check at One Police Plaza to see if they can find me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was brought to um some kind, they took a old bus depot and made it a holding cell for everyone and they just separated the boys and the girls and they took all our information and then they brought to the tombs and we sat there for twenty something hours and then they told us all to like just beat it. And then they gave us court dates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were part of a group protesting the way republicans feel about gay marriage and we were having mock marriages all going on over the city. And we were cornered. They took like these gates and cornered us in and they just told everyone they were under arrest and we were in on the sidewalk were they told us to be and we weren't doing anything illegal and they just randomly rounded us all up about 30 or 40 of us, oh no even more 60 of us, yeah and just took us all in. Just bused us all over there. I was fingerprinted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this is fucking bullshit actually. This is ridiculous and me going back and forth like this is so like convoluted and dumb. Its annoying, really annoying. Plus its messing up my work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5641454672208664110?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5641454672208664110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5641454672208664110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/republican-national-convention-about.html' title='&quot;I think this is fucking bullshit actually.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLuYybWffI/AAAAAAAABvA/MiGvLNZrG_s/s72-c/_DSC7370.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-5777055851240655637</id><published>2008-07-21T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:45:12.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"They were just spraying pepper spray on the whole crowd…"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLtw1lybBI/AAAAAAAABu4/08FS3kvq0yc/s1600-h/_DSC7182-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLtw1lybBI/AAAAAAAABu4/08FS3kvq0yc/s400/_DSC7182-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342093531289906194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm coming out of the court down here downtown, 100 Centre Street. The reason why I actually came from, came to court today is because on Friday the thirteenth of last month, I believe there was a party, an altercation outside of a venue that we was coming out of a party from that we had nothing to do with. Over 70 police officers came... they actually have a couple of civil suits going against the police officers because they beat up some of the people in the crowd with like billy clubs and stuff like that. Left them bloody and stuff. They was falsely arresting a lot of people I guess because the crowd wasn't dispersing as fast as they wanted it to, one of which was my wife. I actually went back to ask the police officer why was my wife arrested because she wasn't in the melee. The reason why they actually came over there and they arrested me for that. So thats why I'm here today. On the 21st. of July. Basically.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The charge is disorderly conduct. Disorderly conduct and resisting arrest [wife]. I'm thirty. I work for the post office. I can't even get in trouble because I work for the city. You understand. My wife is a teacher. She can't get into trouble. I really have no respect for police officers after this particular situation. Really because it was unnecessary. It wasn't called for, none of the people who was in the actual fight got arrested at all. We all came outside and saw a whole fight going on and by time police officers came, that was already over and they were just spraying pepper spray on the whole crowd like. It was just unnecessary, the whole thing was unnecessary. They didn't even need to call to have 70 police out there. Ruining it all the time. Always want to enforce their power when they can when there's no need to. All you got to do is ask questions if you ask questions politely and respectfully people will move but when you try to deal with things forcefully, do things people just feel they don't have to do it because they wasn't doing nothing wrong in the first place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eugene &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 21, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-5777055851240655637?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5777055851240655637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/5777055851240655637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-coming-out-of-court-down-here.html' title='&quot;They were just spraying pepper spray on the whole crowd…&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiLtw1lybBI/AAAAAAAABu4/08FS3kvq0yc/s72-c/_DSC7182-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-2126131071970223307</id><published>2008-07-18T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T14:48:04.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I scam people out of money, that's my occupation."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL7B1E2kHI/AAAAAAAABv4/-9xvZTPJWZs/s1600-h/_DSC7160-2.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL7B1E2kHI/AAAAAAAABv4/-9xvZTPJWZs/s400/_DSC7160-2.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342108116860702834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I previously been convicted of a crime, and the crime was fraudulent accosting. Fraudulent accosting is when you con someone out of some money, when you pull a person in a public street, and con them, convince them something is real that's not real. You understand? Basically, it's called scamming, I scam people out of money, that's my occupation. And that's what I'm here for now. They got a new program called Cases, and I was eligible for that program, and I been convicted and sentenced to three days of Cases, and I'm coming here today to do my last day and to complete the program.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I scam people by approaching them and offering them things that they might want. Drugs, women, et cetera. And if they want it, I'll tell them a story, and make them think that it's real, and get the money from them. Say, for instance, you want girls, I'll tell you I got girls, I got 18 girls, you give 'em two free drinks upstairs, and it'll be any local hotel in the area. And I'll tell you the girls cost $200, and you have to pay $100 for the room deposit, and then you have to pay a extra $50 for the key deposit, so that'll be $350, and I take you to the hotel and get the money from you, and send you on your way. Very simple, it's not hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another scam? A guy may want to buy some drugs, some weed or some coke, or something, and I tell him I got it, I have it hooked up looking like it's real, but it's not real, sometime I keep some real stuff on me they'll check out, and sample it and see that it's good, and you want to spend a lot of money. And I scam 'em that way, also.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I approach another guy on a public street, he may want identification, got a young guy's 15 and under, they want to get in the clubs and stuff like that, and they want identification. And I'll tell them "yeah, I got ID's." Know, a driver's license, all state, and you tell me "OK, I want Jersey," or "I want New York," or "I want Connecticut," and I'll tell them to write they name, they number, they name, they height, they date of birth, everything that you need to put on an ID, and I'll tell them that the ID costs $62, and $18 for the picture, and all together, it's $80. And that's another scam, I get $80 for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't feel bad about any of it, because most of the people who I do scam, they want to buy illegal things, anyway. Women and drugs, most of them. Fake ID's. All that's illegal. So, as I'm scamming people, scamming them for things that is illegal, anyway. They can go to jail for what they trying to purchase. It pays the bills. It pays the bills, so I'm gonna do it until I find something better. A good job. I'm Afro-American, it's hard to find a good job, I didn't finish high school, I don't have a trade, so I'm doing this right now 'til something better comes along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glenn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 18, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-2126131071970223307?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2126131071970223307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/2126131071970223307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-scam-people-out-of-money-thats-my.html' title='&quot;I scam people out of money, that&apos;s my occupation.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL7B1E2kHI/AAAAAAAABv4/-9xvZTPJWZs/s72-c/_DSC7160-2.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4374012223383878468.post-1999730318826575517</id><published>2008-07-18T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T14:42:39.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Jump the turnstile. Police come."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL5WzNV7lI/AAAAAAAABvw/lKgydu5_sfA/s1600-h/_DSC7177-1.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL5WzNV7lI/AAAAAAAABvw/lKgydu5_sfA/s400/_DSC7177-1.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342106278113439314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They say I, I guess they say I turnstile jumped or something like that. I'm not even sure what they say anymore. I paid the fare and I tried to swipe the card and it said insufficient fare. And umm like ah crap you know I just paid I was on 34th. Street and you know it like you know no person in the thing so I walked to the other side where a person is so I told him so I guess he didn't believe me so I paid right in front of him again and swiped again and the same thing happens. So now oh my God I just did it twice. You saw it happen and he's like well like swipe the card let me see what it says. It says like I just swiped like in right in the turnstile in front of him and he tells me that it says that, "I'm like right, you just saw me swipe it". He's like talking crap. So I'm you know I don't want to deal with this I just wanna go home. Jump the turnstile. Police come. They were watching the whole thing. And like I guess they like gotta make quotas. So they like you know what we're gonna take you in. Thats the right thing to do when you pay.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 18, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4374012223383878468-1999730318826575517?l=courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1999730318826575517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4374012223383878468/posts/default/1999730318826575517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://courthouseconfessions.blogspot.com/2008/07/jump-turnstile-police-come.html' title='&quot;Jump the turnstile. Police come.&quot;'/><author><name>Steven Hirsch</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vm2w7NCiu9I/SiL5WzNV7lI/AAAAAAAABvw/lKgydu5_sfA/s72-c/_DSC7177-1.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
