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Horror Stories when Copping off the Street

It wasn't exactly street copping, but one time when picking up a large quantity of xanies and weed a guy jumped in the back of my dealers car. He proceeded to pull a knife out, put it to my neck, and take everything-money, drugs, and he even reached in my pocket to take my phone and some gas money i had. I was lucky he didn't get my wallet

Now when I cop off anyone I don't trust I leave my phone somewhere safe. Whenever I street cop, I park up, leave my phone and wallet in my car, and walk a block or two to the corner I wanna cop off, with enough money for what I plan on getting and nothing more. I also carry a knife too
 
manic_panic said:
there are quite a few but heres the one i thought of first::: when I was a young, naive teenager I walked with some black homeless dude for like, a mile downtown to supposedly cop some M, and he brought me to this old ghetto-ass apartment buildin, i was nt allowed to walk up there, all i had was $7, but he came back with this huge black guy who handed me 2 advil Pm's. and this whole situation being a most retarded idea in the first place, I was like Yo man this aint it at all. and he got pissed off, yelled somethin like "its the fuckin shit you want!!! it's the fuckin shit you NEED!!!" n i was like "ok dude whatever" then he didnt do anything else besides walk up to his apartment and i think the homeless dude disappeared. while waitin on a ride i actually pissed in my pants a little. believe me it was a lot scarier than it sounds
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He was all of those and yet you failed to pay attention to those warning signs.

Use your brain next time!
 
manic_panic;7284349[B said:
]its the fuckin shit you want!!! it's the fuckin shit you NEED!!!" [/B]
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LOL! I don't mean to make light of what must have been a really scary situation, especially being that you were so young and inexperienced. But, you tell this story very well, and I can just HEAR this guy saying this to you! Hahaha! That would make a great tagline or sig line.

I never personally copped off the streets, but I have accompanied crackheads to do so many a time, (not in recent years, however.) I was always terrified, nervous, and just glad to get the fuck up on outta the ghetto when the transaction was completed. When 10 people rush your car trying to push product at you, it can be unnerving. For awhile it was fine, as we were good friends with this guy who was like the "godfather" of the ghetto. He commanded respect, and let it be known that if either of our cars were seen on the street over there, that we were to be serviced and then left alone. When we were friends with him, we basically had safe passage and neither my ex nor my daughter were ever ripped off or threatened.

Then, my daughter and her boyfriend started getting out of control with their crack addiction and began doing shady, sketchy things that you just don't do if you want to maintain respect. They made a lot of enemies, and our guy could no longer run any kind of interference. It was a lot scarier after that, and I rarely went into that neighborhood any longer. Sometimes I would be in the car with my ex when he would decide he needed a rock and I'd thus be hijacked into going with, but I avoided that situation wherever possible. That said, we were always straight up and respectful, and even though the scenario was scary, nobody ever actually tried to do us harm. I think a big part of avoiding trouble when copping is in how one conducts oneself.
 
My girlfriend once busted a ketchup packet on her jeans and told my H dealer she's really in pain ( her PMS ), and got a nice 1/2 gram of H for free. lol. I don't think that works if your a guy, people would just start asking questions.
 
This isn't really a coppin story but it sorta is, because this all happened right after I copped some fentanyl and was faded at my dealers house, just hanging out waiting around for the shit to wear off enough for me to be able to head home or maybe spend the night on the floor to sleep it off.

I live in a different major city now but this was during the time I was living in that big city in Michigan everyone knows about. I went to my dealers house and copped this one time where I was so fucking faded I think i started to drool on myself at my dealers appartment off some fenanyl. This guy is supposed to come over and get us some bud. he comes over and doesn't have it, so we tell him to fuck off because he was just some punk kid that wanted to come over to try and get some free dope off my dealer and never intended on getting the dope. He asks real quick if he can use my cell phone. None of us really trust him because we can tell he's sketched out, probably from doin crack or being in heavy drawals from dope. We tell him to fuck off and he leaves.

A few min. later the buzzer rings which is FUCKING LOUD and it's late at night and my homeboy and I just want to get faded watching movies and chill. So we buzz up this kid again because he says he "has the money" and wants to grab some dope. He comes up but really just wanted to use the cell phone so we again tell him to fuck off since he's just to nieve and junkied out at a young age. So he finally takes off.

About 10 - 30 min go by and the buzzer goes off. My dealer is taking a "dope brick shit" in the bathroom and has been in there for about 20 min now trying to shove a cucumber through a garden hose, it sounded really painful. I get on the buzzer for him and tell the kid to leave us alone where closed for the night, come back tomorrow. Again he lays on the buzzer. I tell the kid to stop it with the fucking buzzer we aren't letting him in and to PLEASE just leave us alone because we are not having visitors. I listen and i hear some swearing and other shit and I'm thinking wtf this kid grew some balls quick... So then about 2 min go by and BUZZZZZZZZZ the buzzer just get's laid on. My buddy whos delivering a brown baby in the bathroom yells out to tell the kid to "FUCK OFF YOU PIECE OF SHIT WE ARE NOT LETTING PEOPLE IN take your junkied out pathetic ass to some other persons house to annoy.".

I say the exact same thing in the buzzer, then listen. I hear a lot of swearing and start to figure out that it's not the kid... My buddy starts walking funny out of the bathroom and I'm just chillin on the couch, in the nodd where my head kept going in a kind of swinging motion and my eyes are flickering, trying my best to stay awake to enjoy it as much as possible. He gets on the buzzer and is like "Listen you fucking punk get the fuck away or both of us will go down there and fuck you up." He then goes to listen and finds out it's Ben, his "long time friend" blah blah blah and my dealer was like "oh shit it's just Ben, nice" and rings him up. Ben I can hear stomping up the stairs and I start thinking to myself in my doped up brain that I might be in for something because i don't know this kid at all and probably pissed him off from all the swearing I heard.

He comes into the room and walks right past my buddy and asks "who's the fucker who's going to get his face mashed in" and i say "I was the one on the buzzer but I thought yo..." as he comes rushing me and I stand up and just barely miss a punch to the face. I'm as high as a kite and just give him a big shove and throw him back into the table and chairs. My dealer is yelling for us to not fight it was a big misunderstanding Ben you don't know the story don't start shit i'm holding like a half ounce etc. etc.. Ben doesn't give a fuck. He starts punching me in the face and I remember it was the weirdest feeling in the world, the punches were landing square on my face but it just felt like a numb kind of smack and the punches looked like they were coming at me in slow motion. I finally figure out that I'm in the process of getting my "face mashed in" so I kind of come to pretty quick and grab the guy by the throat and rush him back into the table and he get's thrown sort of on top of it, with both hands trying to get my hand off his neck.

I start smacking his face to get his hands away from mine and right when he tries to cover his face I get both around his neck and just squeeze as hard as I could. My boy is YELLING for me to stop and that Ben's all good and this is all not right but it all sounds like mumbling to me, my brain was working in slow motion and nothing was going to get my hands off this guys neck. It's like from "Of Mice and Men" or something. 2 people from appartments close by are at the door and my dealer is trying to tell them to hold off please don't call the cops he'll take care of all this and I remember seeing my Bens face going from deep red to blue and he was trying to grab my balls which pissed me off and just made me want to squeeze harder.

I then get football tackle slammed by my dealer into his television set and it fucking lands on my stomach, the whole huge television. My dealer is yelling for us to stop it's all a misunderstanding "you guys are my best friends this is all fucked up!" I grab the television and try and pull the thing off me but can't and my head is swimming around in dope and lil flicks of pain. The TV is making it so i can't breath. Then I got this peice of shit Ben back on my ass just slamming his foot into my face, fucking my face up hardstyle. Gladly I get to see right in full view my homeboy cleap shot-clock Ben as hard as he can across his temple and he does a tree fall drop onto the carpet. He then get's the television off of me. He makes sure I'm not going to go after Ben and tells me to get into the bedroom grab the stash and get in the bathroom for in case the cops show up.

He then goes to the front door and i can hear him talking to the neighebors trying to get them to not call the cops and this one lady was flipping out saying that Ben needs medical attention and so do I. I look in the mirror and Ben rearrainged my face, like my face was just this bloody mess and my nose was broken, my lip was torn upword I had a black eye and my cheek was puffed out. I was pouring blood from my nose. I was sooooo high off of fent though that i couldn't feel a thing. I decide that I deserve some of the dope as a whatever you want to call and lucky for me my rig was still sitting in the bathroom. I slam a nice heavy shot and get nodded out. I come to in just a bit and am hanging out in the bathroom just sitting on the toilet thinknig about how fucking retarded all that shit was and how much I want to fuck Ben up the first chance I get or at least make a real fight out of all this, because he did "mash my face" and I don't take shit like that especially when it's a stomping with a TV on my chest.

I can hear my dealer explaining everything to Ben and Ben is all "oh man I had no idea", "I'm so sorry I never would have had I known.." and all this pansy bullshit that I think he was just saying because he got to kick the shit out of me while I had a television in my lap. The cops didn't get called and after about 30 min my dealer is talking to me through the door telling me if I'm ok with what happened and to make a truce with Ben. I remember i was thinking fuck it and that i should just make a truce because i'm not into having beef with people especially someone as stupid as him, who knows how many people he could bring to jump me.

In my opinion nothing is worse than getting jumped, it's a horrble experience. So I try and say "yeah I'm cool with a truce" but it comes out all "blahh icococlkr futhrrrsss" because i got monkey lips and I hear Ben making a little girly giggling sound. I then decide fuck this motherfucker and play off like I'm good with a truce. My dealer makes this deal to "shake on it" when he opens the door. Right when the door opens I see Ben looking like a dipshit with his hand outstretched to shake, I had my fist pulled all the way back and square one up right on his nose and immediately my dealer slams the door, I lock it and I can hear Ben acting in agony and swearing up a storm.

I then say as best i could "now we got a truce". shorten up this long story we did truce it up and got high as hell together and actually laughed about the whole thing later on. Him and I are still friends and it was all good, my face was fucked up for sure, but Ben had blue finger marks on his neck and a broken nose too and also kept getting headaches for about a month from my dealer clocking him upside the head. So I guess we all won, or lost, however you want to put it. Sorry so long but it was a good reason for me to stop hanging out in the hood. So many stories kind of like that, you just have no idea when things can go from being totally cool from being totally fucked up, you always have to have your wits about you. I'm happy i don't hang out in shitty projects anymore. k end of story, sorry so long, if anyone read this far thanks haha.
 
I don't have any horror stories actually but ive had a few near ones. One time a very close friend decided to go coping for morphine, H, oxy or any strong opiate in a bad part of town in a city that i was completely unfamiliar with. She went asking random street people hanging round a homeless shelter if anyone had seen a certain somebody and if not did they know any holding. Pretty soon there was atleast a dozen people surrounding us and more importantly her and i stepped in between them and said she was with me. I did this for 2 reasons so theyd know i was with her and hands fuckin off guys and also anyone who decided to try anything with her would have to climb over my corpse to do it. It was a logistical nightmare though as it's pretty easy to protect yourself but alot harder to protect a person and also keep myself from getting smashed up to badly or stabbed :\

Thankfully i managed to pull her out of there without getting attacked or picked up by the cops. If we had to have gotten jumped on about the only way she coulda gotta away unharmed would be her to take off after i dived into the lot of them. She would hopefully get away unharmed while i would be lucky if i just went to the hospital instead of the morgue. But she was one of the few people id be litterally willing to die for in a case like that so id do what had to be done.

I did tell her off about it (politely since i wanted to get laid latter :\ ) and told her never to pull that shit again no matter how bad we where both jonesing. Here ya i would and have copped off the streets and i have in really big cities but unless i know the place im not going to risk getting beaten up, killed, or arrested like that.
 
On the street tryin to cop mad cops drivin buy so i hop in dudes car (in da hood of course) drivin around doin biz guy in back pulls out strap to my dome get robbed for 250 then thrown out on the side of street in da hood cop stops me searches me (had nuthin on me) drives me home tells ma i was wondering around the hood by myself at 1am not cool.
 
CaPoNe. said:
) drivin around doin biz guy in back pulls out strap to my dome get robbed for 250 then thrown out on the side of street in da hood
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That's a old classic. I've heard that same story from like 3 diff people, that's why you don't get in peoples cars and if you do you don't let nobody sit behind you. I'm sure you know that now though.
 
I once copped at 5 in the morning in a major city downtown. I had 15 bags about the size of 3/4 of a marble. I happened to have a bit of cash that morning. Anyhow, so I throw the bags in my mouth and take off. I made such a rookie mistake next, I fuckin' J-walked! Jesus right. So of course a Motorcycle pig roles on me. He throws his lights on, pulls up next to me on the sidewalk and starts to get off his bike and take his helmet off. While this is happening I have 15 of these not tiny bags in my mouth. I tried to swallow once, couldn't do it. Cop is now off his bike turning to address me, saying something like, "do you know why..blah blah". At the last second before his eyes fell upon me I just said fuck it and forced myself to swallow all the bags. It was no easy feat! Big fat rubbery nubs all stuck together, yuck!!
Then after the cop wrote me a BS ticked I had to run into a public restroom, get onto my knees in the bathroom stall and gag myself until I puked up 11 of the bags. I could not get the other 4 out. It sucked badly. Really it did.

And ya wanna know the kicker? The cop didn't even search me.
 
I'm bumping an old thread but I was bored and randomly came upon this.....but fuck I just hope none of this happens to me this week. I guess the hookup is going somewhere on the day we were going to meet them so we have to cop off the street again. Fuck, one dealer ends up in jail, another one is down but then the day you need them their not and the list goes on..... I'm not worried about the people in the "hood" but the cops. Last time we were lucky but I'm kind of worried this time. Especially since I'm not going with a guy this time but another female into north philly /: well hope I don't end up being able to contribute to this thread.
 
evilthree said:
It wasn't exactly street copping, but one time when picking up a large quantity of xanies and weed a guy jumped in the back of my dealers car. He proceeded to pull a knife out, put it to my neck, and take everything-money, drugs, and he even reached in my pocket to take my phone and some gas money i had. I was lucky he didn't get my wallet

Now when I cop off anyone I don't trust I leave my phone somewhere safe. Whenever I street cop, I park up, leave my phone and wallet in my car, and walk a block or two to the corner I wanna cop off, with enough money for what I plan on getting and nothing more. I also carry a knife too
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Dude a-men. I had somethin similiar happen.. was coppin waitin on my dude and just straight got robbed.. i was sittin in my car at Wendy's and it was apparently unlocked and 2 black dudes just like burst in the back door and started fuckin everythign up and stealin shit..got everything, dope, electronics :( They didnt have a gun or knife or atleat didnt pull it on me but it was 2 big black dudes manhandling from the backseat and I was fighting for the dope but they managed to fuckin get every single bag even one that like fell in the crack. I just remember these big ass black cold hands knockin me around getting my dope. Fuckin assholes. Then I got out the car and people that saw it didnt wanan help cause i was white..so they just were like yeah uhh he went that way, no that way, oh that way. And I was disoriented..walked around wendys and huffed and puffed then I was like fuck.. took my last 50 bucks out to get some more dope and calld it a day lol. They probably sold the phone for $5 bucks.. like I woulda happily bought it back from them lol..fucks.

Now I always have the shit locked in the glove.. phone is under my lap or in the glove. i dont bring extra shit with me coppin, just exact change and my ID..cause you very well can get robbed when your in that dark piss-ridden stairwell waitin on that fire.
 
When I was younger and didn't have any good coke connections, I used to go through the squatters at Tompkins Square Park on the lower east side of manhattan. I had just obtained fourth dollars through some less than legal hard work, and was copping with this kid who was a few years older than me. At one point he told me to wait on one side of the street because the dealer was on the other side, and would be suspicious if he saw me. I reluctantly complied. So this kid runs across the street, and at the same time a buss passes, blocking my view for just a second. After the bus passed the kid was no where to be seen. I felt incredibly humiliated, and wanted to get high so bad, I was just jonesing for coke.

So anyway, I go back to tompkins and start asking the squatters and junkies if they'd seen the kid who was copping for me, and they all told me to "give up", and to "quit complaining and accept the loss." of course this just made me feel more humiliated and I was determined to cop no matter what. So I start walking down avenue A thinking I'll run into the asshole who ripped me off, when I find a busted keyboard on the ground. I check to see if it works at all, and as it turns out, for the most part it still played, only a couple of the keys were screwed up. So then I try and hustle this piece of shit broken keyboard, and I'm walking down sevent avenue banging on the working keys and screaming "keyboard for sale, 20$!" (mind you I was pretty fucked up on Xanax at the time). Well after about an hour of hustling this piece of garbage, I actually manage to sell it to some fool for seventeen dollars. In the end, I decided to shoot some heroin instead, but the whole thing was quite an ordeal.

So if you're ever down by Tompkins be wary. Some of those kids are real sweet and will help you out as long as you throw them a bag. Others will act real sweet, and then rip you off.
 
Znegative said:
When I was younger and didn't have any good coke connections, I used to go through the squatters at Tompkins Square Park on the lower east side of manhattan. I had just obtained fourth dollars through some less than legal hard work, and was copping with this kid who was a few years older than me. At one point he told me to wait on one side of the street because the dealer was on the other side, and would be suspicious if he saw me. I reluctantly complied. So this kid runs across the street, and at the same time a buss passes, blocking my view for just a second. After the bus passed the kid was no where to be seen. I felt incredibly humiliated, and wanted to get high so bad, I was just jonesing for coke.

So anyway, I go back to tompkins and start asking the squatters and junkies if they'd seen the kid who was copping for me, and they all told me to "give up", and to "quit complaining and accept the loss." of course this just made me feel more humiliated and I was determined to cop no matter what. So I start walking down avenue A thinking I'll run into the asshole who ripped me off, when I find a busted keyboard on the ground. I check to see if it works at all, and as it turns out, for the most part it still played, only a couple of the keys were screwed up. So then I try and hustle this piece of shit broken keyboard, and I'm walking down sevent avenue banging on the working keys and screaming "keyboard for sale, 20$!" (mind you I was pretty fucked up on Xanax at the time). Well after about an hour of hustling this piece of garbage, I actually manage to sell it to some fool for seventeen dollars. In the end, I decided to shoot some heroin instead, but the whole thing was quite an ordeal.

So if you're ever down by Tompkins be wary. Some of those kids are real sweet and will help you out as long as you throw them a bag. Others will act real sweet, and then rip you off.
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Thats exactly what I have heard about Tompkins Sq.. a good place to get ripped. Good story though
 
I was in the bronx coppin deisel with my boy. I parked my car in my usual spot under an EL track and my buddy hops out of the car to go half a block down to this laundry matt where we would meet this 13 year old runner (kid was scary for 13 lol) I gotta go like 5 blocks in the opposite direction to cop some needles from this pharmacy, but this particular time there was a hooker standing on the curb right where I'm parking. She was a text book hooker, black woman missing some teeth (or they were just extremely black) platinum blonde wig, stripper heels, scantily clad, all that good stuff. She starts tryin to help me parallel park, she wavin her arms like those dudes on a runway. She fails to realize that there was no one behind my spot or in front of it so i really didn't need her help.
So, after i park my boy runs off to meet our kid and I'm stuck with this hideous hooker. She asks me the usual thing if i wanna buy and whatnot I tell her no and start walking to the pharmacy. The hooker ensues she is just strolling along in stride with me, asking if i had a dollar. I only had two dollars and I intended on buying two needles so i told her no, but she just kept with me. So here I am a thin blonde haired green eyed Irish kid (i was also on 18 at the time) walking 5 blocks through the Bronx in broad daylight in the summer with this SO OBVIOUS hooker, needless to say people were cocking their heads and raising eyebrows. I could almost hear their thoughts "what the fuck is this white boy doin?" She is going on and on for 5 blocks about how i should give her a ride back to where I'm from and introduce her to some "rich people". I jestingly say "haha yea sure" WRONG. So, I get to the pharm and attempt to cop 2 needles but the guy tells me he can only sell me one. He gave me some bs reason, but whatever.
So, as I'm walking out I see the hooker standing out there. This is where my stupidity kicks in, I had the extra dollar because i could only get one needle, so I approach the hooker and told her I didn't need it. She says, "you are so nice, i'm gonna walk you back to your car!" So once again i had to trek another 5 blocks with her right next to me. When we get back to my car my boy is waiting smoking a cig and when he sees the hooker still with me, the look on his face was gold. I tell her I gotta go but she is still asking me to take her with me. I say I can't and proceed to get in my car. She opens my back passenger door and gets IN my car. So, at this point i think i'm completely fucked, a cop is gonna see this any moment and come over here. Luckily my friend isnt as quiet and reserved as myself, and goes off on her, calls her a hood rat and whatnot and tells her to get the fuck outta here. Eventually she stomped away, but it took awhile.
So basically my worst story was a overly talkative hooker. Not the worst. Actually, re telling that little story really makes me miss NY (i moved to NC two months ago) No fun here at all.
 
OK, I got a fairly recent one.

I was trying to buy some diazepam at one of the subway stations known as alcoholic/druggie meeting spots. I had already tried another place and promptly been searched, had my personal info taken and received a 24h ban for loitering, even though I had managed to ditch the bupe I had scored there just before, and luckily had nothing on me. So I was suitably pissed off and paranoid, but still wanted to up my stash.

But anyway, I ask one of the usual suspects if he's got some subus, dias or rupies (local slang for subutex, diazepam and rohypnol), the answer is yes, dias, so I say I'm interested. Asks me how many I need and says he's got what I want, but let's move downstairs to the trains a little so we'd be less suspicious, he'd been shaken down today already.

So we go down a flight of stairs, talking prices, and without warning run into 4 fully uniformed police. I nearly lost it, as after the last incident I had retrieved my last bit of H from a friend, so I was about to be searched AGAIN, and would have to swallow the bubble of brown as well, leaving me with shit. So when one of the pigs asked for ID, I just kept on walking, hoping they hadn't noticed me. The other says, "Hell no, not again", and I just leave the scene unmolested via the opposite stairs, the cops luckily leaving me completely alone.

But fuck me, the horror I felt was real enough.
 
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How about this - and this is a true story, on everything for real- Sorry for the long read, but it all pertains to the story and wouldn't make sense if I didn't fully explain it. It's a funny story, but not really. Everyone usually laughs but it still makes me sick till this day.

Before my dad passed away he used to cop with a good friend of his in camden all the time (funny how fast forward a few years now I'm copping as well in camden which is where this story takes place) We'll call my dad's friend "John".

So my dad stopped using for a few years after I hit age 18 or 20. He knew I used painkillers but always told me to stay away from dope. I did for awhile, but nothing lasts forever right? So after he passes away I start copping in camden myself. I end up getting my dads white cutlass supreme passed down to me (you can't miss it, the grill and front end looked like no other car on the road) my dad used to use this car to go cop in camden all the time. turns out one of the last time he copped, he was with his friend "John". John tells my father "When we get up to the block, leave the car in drive and be ready to pull off" Turns out that john had a $20 in his hand rollled up with singles in the middle. He asked the dealer for 2 bundles. The guy leans in the car, puts the 2 bundles out and asks for money. John wedges his fingers in the guys hand, pulls out the 2 bundles and yells to my father to drive. They get away with the dope with 6 or 7 people chasing on foot.

Fast forward 5 years, I end up with the cutlass and see john walking down the street obviously on his way to camden. I tell him that I'm going to cop, he tells me he is as well. I've been dealing with an older guy, tell him that it's great stuff, the guy runs a block, and we can be in and out. We get there, I get out talk to my guy and john decides he's gonna hop out to supervise this situation (which I didn't need him to, he's a scrawny little guy and I was built like a mack truck at the time) he gets out and my dealer says to him "You know what, lemme deal wit your dude over here, I dnno who he is, I wanna see what he's about" which should have been a light bulb in my head. I said fine, I grabbed my bundle and john was going to get his own from the guy. Turns out this was the guy he beat 5 years prior and the guy never forgot his face. I guess my dealer assumed I wasn't my fathers son, or maybe I bought the car, I dunno I never saw him again after what happens next:

John tells me leave him there, he'll walk back after getting his stuff, he has to grab other shit down there as well. I say fine no problem. I am just pulling off I look in my rear view and I see what looks to be my dealer grabbing Johns junk (and by junk I mean his dick) - BANG! - turns out my dealer shot one of john's nuts off and blew the bottom half of his left ass cheek to bits with a revolver. I stop to turn the car around, but by the time I stop everyone on the street has already surrounded john on the ground- I decide best if I drive away since everyone is now pooling around the guy (and I knew someone would call the cops) I talk to my fathers friend and find out what happened a day later and said john said he wasn't going to call the cops. The camden police never followed up.

I wasn't there, I didn't see it up close, but I watched it happen. I actually threw up on the ride home thinking that he got shot and what my father would think of me leaving. Then I found out he lost his left ball and I still regret the situation every day since. He's fine though, saw him a few weeks ago and he said nothing about it. His street name is now "Blanks" - I shit you not. It's because everyone assumes he shoots "Blanks" and has nothin hangin now.

100% true story....
 
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