Skip to main content

Please Pass the DNA

                    Image result for dna ancestry criminal evidence
by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
There you are, a professional criminal, and you go to all the trouble to keep yourself from the attention of the Law.  Then, your cousin gives you away.

Your cousin was interested in his ancestry.  He gave some cheek cells to an ancestry company so that they could do a DNA trace.  T
he ancestry company sends your cousin a report and stores his DNA profile in its database.  Your cousin is not a happy man.  He learns that he is a mutt, full of the bits and pieces of every race.  

Off you go and commit your crime.  You, the balding criminal, suffering from hair loss, leave a single strand of hair behind.  The police find the strand and run a DNA check.  Your DNA is not in the police database because you have made sure that the police never ever have a tissue sample from you.

Unknown to you, the police go to the ancestry company and run your hair strand through the company's database and they get a match with your cousin.  Next thing you know, the police are breaking down your door and arresting you.  The police traced you through your familial connection to your cousin.

Technology can be so annoying.

Comments

I always knew that ancestry nonsense would be trouble some day!
Anonymous said…
There is no escape. Evidence against an Ohio man charged with arson included data from his pacemaker.

Popular posts from this blog

A Subway Journey Home

by The Urban Blabbermouth. Comments are welcome! ~ There is a ritual to theNew York City subway system. Once there, you lose your humanity.  You are transformed into a savage, brutal and selfish automaton.  Savage in that you push and shove other riders out of your way to get into the subway car.  Brutal in that you never excuse yourself for any atrocities that you commit to get in the subway car.  Selfish in that you never give up your seat to anyone, no matter how crippled or old or pregnant they are.  Automaton in that you never look at any one else as a human being.

Now there are certain strategies that you can employ to be a successful subway rider.  You can stand by the door and obstruct the way just to be selfish and ornery.  That strategy is designed to increase your standing with your fellow passengers by impressing them with how vicious you can be pushing back at people trying to push into the car.  Whenever I see this strategy employed, I immediately piggy back on it.  I move …

Gone Shopping

by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
Dracula escorted his newly created undead aide into the store.

"...and you need to sleep in the daytime," he explained.

"But what are we doing here in Sleepy's Mattress store?" asked his aide. "I thought we slept in coffins."

"We are modern now," replied Dracula. "We use a mattress like anyone else. I tell you, after two hundred years of sleeping on rock and dirt, this is a joy. So much more comfortable and you don't have to haul it around from place to place."

"Amazing," said the aide.

"For a newbie like you, maybe you want to go traditional. Sleepy's has a Posturedic that will fit inside a coffin."

"What do you use?" asked the aide.

"I have a sleep-number bed. I love it. Mrs. Dracula can toss and turn and I don't feel it on my side."

"Now that you mention the ladies, I think I will skip the coffin. A moo…

I Swear!

by Vol-E

I've lived in the south for over 30 years. Having grown up as a New Yorker, there were some changes to get used to once I crossed the Mason-Dixon line.

Language was a big one. My parents were well-behaved in public, but behind the closed doors of our home, they taught me all kinds of interesting vocabulary words, as they took their everyday frustrations out on one another. "Jerk" and "bastard" were two of the earliest ones, but by the time I was about eight, I knew pretty much every one of George Carlin's pet no-nos.

It was only in college that I met people who were outspokenly offended by swear words. The ones that raised eyebrows initially were related to religion. I began to think twice about using "hell" and "damn," and was politely informed one day that "God's last name is not 'dammit.'" So I gradually began censoring myself a bit, which was probably a good thing, once I joined the work force. Macy…