I’m never the guy who calls him, though.
It's a mystery to me
The game commences
For the usual fee
Plus expenses
Confidential information
It's in a diary
This is my investigation
It's not a public inquiry
I go checking out the reports
Digging up the dirt
You get to meet all sorts
In this line of work
Treachery and treason
There's always an excuse for it
And when I find the reason
I still can't get used to it
And what have you got at the end of the day?
What have you got to take away?
A bottle of whiskey and a new set of lies
Blinds on the window and a pain behind the eyes
Scarred for life
No compensation
Private investigations
Assuming you're tracking class 8 tractors, how are they not running ELDs with GPS coordinates and corresponding gps and geo fencing?
On both ends.
stuff.
golf on a Tuesday morning in LA without their supposed neck brace.
I got a call from a farmer. He put me on the trail of some hot bovines. Now, I ain't the judgemental type, but these cattle was stolen, not sexy. I had work to do that would take coffee, cigarettes, and my Aerosmith tape. Following a truck through California customs without getting noticed ain't easy, but it ain't impossible. I done it before and got a big payday when the perp turned out to be Elsie Chapo. He'd been stealin RumChata's top teats for years. He's still bakin in a Wisconsin prison to this day.
Well the job paid right, so I took it. Bethel already had a full tank, some binoculars, and a fully inflated spare if I had any trouble, so I set out for Barstow, the US's greatest city right behind Newark, Gary, and Detroilet.
Four smokes into this convoy we hit trouble...
violations of Federal law, millions of dollars in fines. Real dairy espionage stuff. And a lot more than one milk truck per day.
I figure that you can’t give me too much info, loose ships sink ships.
But these idiots aren’t going to find this site out before it’s long gone....
Secret negotiations about a project involving mos-cows