Ranking the 50 States (the ‘meh’ states)

These states are only slightly better than the ones on the prior list. Which isn’t saying much.

39. Massachusetts

No one wants to say it, but Massachusetts is the Florida of New England. And it’s a toss up as to which state is more racist.

38. Connecticut

Speaking of New England, Connecticut seems like it’s the only state in that region that has a meth lab problem. Plus there’s no real reason to live there unless you can’t afford NYC or Massachusetts.

37. Alabama

Alabama is what Mississippi would look like if the Magnolia State had any self-respect. Still though, Alabama doesn’t have much going for it other than college football.

36. Ohio

Like I’ve said before, I’ve only spent maybe 20 minutes in this state. But for whatever reasons, I just love to shit all over Ohio. Probably because, like Mississippi, people get so butt fuckin hurt when I do so.

35. Virginia

Unlike Maryland and Delaware, I acknowledge that Virginia is an actual state. But the northern half can go fuck itself, while the southern half should become a part of North Carolina.

34. North Carolina

I’m sure people love living here. Unfortunately this state hosts four ACC schools and all four of them suck.

33. Alaska

Beautiful state. But I don’t think Alaska catches the shit I think it deserves. People are weird, and not in a good way (unlike the next state on the list). It’s also cold and has a shit ton of grizzly bears. Fuck that.

32. Louisiana

I hate putting Louisiana this low. People are weird, but in a good way. And New Orleans might be the best shitty city in the US, which counts for A LOT in my book (and I like the food too). Unfortunately it might be the ugliest state geographically.

31. Pennsylvania

Pittsburgh is probably a cool place. And again, I’m sure people love living there. But the only knock against PA is Philadelphia. That is the most unfortunate city in the US

30. New Jersey

Now I know what you’re thinking: “Why is New Jersey ranked this high?”. And that’s a valid question. There are more assholes living in NJ than there are people. But I can appreciate that. If I found out tomorrow that I had to spend the rest of my life there, I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d probably fit right in.

Jack hardcock: Christian detective (part iv)

I returned to DCI headquarters to check in the Chief. He was shoveling jelly donuts down his face hole and getting shit all over the paperwork.

“Can you believe this shit, Jack?” he said while shards of donut was flying out of his mouth.

“I’m a Christian, Chief,” I replied, “I believe everything that I’m told.”

“Take a look at this.”

Chief handed me a report from the Pittsburgh FBI office regarding a series of murders. I had to swipe away jelly just to read all of the paragraphs.

“So what?” I asked.

“The autopsies came back from the McGarth killings. It can’t be a coincidence Jack. The same guy killing all them hookers in Pittsburgh is the same guy who killed McGarth and our two prostitutes.”

“The FBI are a bunch of jokers, Chief. I wouldn’t trust them to find a missing cat. Especially after what they did to President Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago!”

“Now cool it, Jack!” Chief said. “I know that you hold a grudge against the Bureau after they shitcanned you and sent you to Ohio BCI, but I expect your full cooperation!”

“Cooperation?” I asked. “The fuck are you talking about, Chief?”

“The Feds are coming to help us with our investigation,” he replied, “and I don’t want ONE word out of you! You hear?! Or you’ll be sent to Toledo so fast that you’ll bust your pants!”

“I already busted in my pants once today, Chief,” I said, “then I prayed for the Lord’s forgiveness. So don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“That’s it!” the Chief yelled, “get out of my office!”

“With pleasure.”

The FBI would not be getting my cooperation. But I couldn’t solve this case on my own. So I went looking for my good friend: local gangster Gregg Poppovich.

I found him enjoying a plate of lasagna at his Italian restaurant that he owned just outside of town. I grabbed his head and shoved it into the plate.

“Jesus, Jack!” he said as he wiped away the tomato sauce from his face, “you could have just said hello!”

I laid the .38 down on the table. “I need some answers,” I said.

“About what?!”

“Art McGarth.”

“I told you! I know what you know!”

I grabbed the plate and smashed it against his face. “Not good enough!” I yelled.

Gregg grabbed another towel and began wiping the blood from his face. “Is there something wrong, Jack? You seem a bit agitated,” he asked.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Thanks for asking Gregg,” I said, “but it seems like the FBI is always up my ass!”

“I know how you feel,” Gregg replied, “it ain’t easy being a local gangster, ya know?”

“Unfortunately, they’re coming down here from Pittsburgh to investigate the McGarth killings,” I said. “I don’t need their help. What good has the Federal government ever done?!”

“Jack, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye,” Gregg said, “but if you ever needed any assistance, I’m always here to help.”

“Thanks Gregg,”I replied, “you’ve always been a good friend. So since you’re offering, I’m gonna need the entire Cleveland criminal underworld to help me catch a killer.”

TO BE CONTINUED….