In April 2011, he was accused of pistol-whipping a man during an altercation at a barbecue cookout in Arnold, Maryland. He was arrested and charged with first- and second-degree assault, reckless endangerment, possessing a handgun, using a handgun in a violent crime, possessing a handgun in a vehicle and disorderly conduct, among other charges.[4]

On November 1, 2011, Oliver Miller pled guilty in Anne Arundel County to first degree assault and possessing a handgun.[5] He was sentenced on February 3, 2012 to a year in the Anne Arundel County jail (a five-year sentence with four years suspended). After his release, Miller will be on probation for five years.[6]

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24654504)

Glad I posted in this thread.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24655849)

On the other end of the phone is one of his closest associates and business partners, whose name is also coincidentally Latrell but he goes by Tre. The cigarette hangs out of his mouth unlit as he inquires about the status of five pounds of weed that is supposed to be coming across the U.S./Canadian border later this afternoon. Spree, recently bankrupt and long out of the "rims" business, is now one of the biggest marijuana distributors in Wisconsin. One of his cousins steps outside to monitor the conversation, so that he can be ready in case anything is needed of him. The cousin thinks to himself "this nigga kinda looks like Samuel L. right now with that Newport. All he need is a jehri curl", but he knows Latrell is in much too serious of a mood to hear such a jesty comment.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24654215)

Thread is incredible

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24653946)

Horace was a little disappointed that Damon seemed to be going through the motions a bit during their conversation, and he concluded he must not have been all that interested in talking to a few random Chicago Bulls not named Michael or Scottie for more than a minute or two. In fact, Daman seemed to actively ignore his crew for the rest of the night.

Despite being somewhat rubbed the wrong way, Horace apologizes for Damon in his mind. He is self-aware enough to realize that, as a shy country boy, he has little to offer in the way of fancy nightclub conversations with Hollywood stars. Ultimately, he decides that Damon is, in fact, a nice guy, which is why he watches his movies whenever they're on "the satellite."

During the scenes that feature the chick who played Hillary on "Fresh Prince", he finds himself getting aroused. But as soon as this happens he begins hearing his jealous, controlling wife nagging him about it in the back of his mind, and the guilt kicks in.

Treesha is actually at a church family leadership meeting right now, and the girls are with their aunt. Monday evenings are really the only time of the week when he gets to be alone. It's been about two months since she gave him a blow job, and he's kind of feeling rebellious. He's thinking about sneaking up to the master bedroom and using some of his wife's floral-scented hand lotion to pleasure himself. But ultimately he's way too comfortable in his plush black leather couch to bother with stairs, although he knows at some point he needs to take the trash out before Treesha gets home and gives him a piece of her mind.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24654844)

It's about 30 minutes until kickoff. He invited several of his friends to come over to the crib to watch, but no one has arrived yet. Well, except for his white neighbor Adam. Adam is a software engineer, who has always aggressively chatted-up Muggsy in the driveway. Of course, it was such an ambush earlier this afternoon as he was unloading grocery bags of chips and beer, that led to Adam's pity-invite this evening.

When Adam walked through the door (an hour early, mind you) with a 6-pack of Dogfish IPA in hand, he said "This stuff has lots of hops. Just like you!" It was a line which you could tell he had been practicing in his mind for god knows how long. He also was carrying a tote bag of what looked to be some teal looking shit that he's probably going to want autographed later. Adam is fawning over Muggsy at practically every opportunity, commenting on every photo and piece of memorabilia in the house. Muggsy is starting to hope none of his friends will come, to save himself the embarrassment of being associated with this weird, cous-cous eating motherfucker.

Muggsy has started to wonder if Adam camps out in his car most days, waiting for him to make an appearance so he can contrive a "chance" encounter. In fact, he already sort of confronted him about it. After the fourth or fifth such bombardment, Muggsy said "Man, you must like chillin' in your car!", to which Adam confessed that he's a public radio junkie, and that he often has "driveway moments" while listening to NPR. (Muggsy was never quite sure what the fuck this white nigga meant by a "public radio.")

Muggsy was initially hoping that, by letting Adam into his home, that he will get the fanboy shit out of his system and finally chill the fuck out. But as each moment passes he's less and less sure this was a good idea.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24655329)

180 man

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24655804)

Uh, this is fucking movie line quality.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24655810)

He thinks it's weird to see footage of himself looking at footage--almost like looking into a mirror with another mirror behind it, or some shit.

A C.I.A. black ops agent known as "Colin" recruited Dennis when he was vacationing in Ireland in 2010. They were looking for a washed up celebrity who, first and foremost, was known for constantly wearing sunglasses. They were also looking for someone who had a long track record of unorthodox, risky behavior. Someone with little credibility and cultural cache, in case they needed plausible deniability. Dennis was more than a perfect fit, because on top of this, he was a hall of fame professional athlete, which meant he could be receptive to coaching, conditioning, and discipline.

Knowing he would appreciate a no bullshit approach, Colin immediately told Rodman what they wanted. $5 million cash to have a Stanford ophthalmology professor surgically remove his eye and replace it with an experimental camera for intelligence gathering purposes. He explained that while the camera does look and behave very much like an eye, it was still somewhat imperfect and that trained intelligence operatives might be able to spot it if it were exposed, hence the need for him to continue to constantly wear sunglasses. Dennis got them up to $8 million, and took the deal.

Despite having one successful trip under his belt, Dennis is still a little nervous, despite the bovine amounts of Xanax and Vicodin he's taken. His head emerges from under the blanket as the Air Koryo (national airline of North Korea) flight attendant comes over to inform him, in broken English, that they will "have ground touch" in "servile minutes." He thanks the young lady as he unapologetically and carelessly digs into his drawers to remove the cord from his ass. He then tries to put on his seatbelt for landing, but it is, apparently, broken.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2443884&forum_id=2#24659780)