Travis County DA’s Office: Where Justice Goes to Die (But Only After 90 Days)

In a shocking turn of events that absolutely no one saw coming (except for me, because I’ve been screaming about it into my webcam for years), Travis County prosecutors have once again proven that the justice system is just a glorified game of "Whoops, My Bad." A 19-year-old aspiring dental hygienist—yes, you read that right, a guy who wanted to clean teeth for a living—spent 112 days in jail because the DA’s office apparently operates on "island time." His crime? A heated argument with his dad that escalated into a felony charge faster than you can say "deep state overreach."

But wait, it gets better. This poor kid wasn’t just rotting in a cell—oh no, he was proactive. He wrote a letter to the judge like some kind of 19th-century prisoner pleading for mercy. "Please, Your Honor, I just want to scrape plaque and serve my country," he might as well have written. And what did the justice system do? They let him sit there for another month, because nothing says "efficiency" like ignoring a handwritten plea from a guy who probably still gets carded at R-rated movies.

Meanwhile, District Attorney Jose Garza, a man so committed to "criminal justice reform" that he’s basically running a catch-and-release program for suspects, has been busy blaming everyone but himself. First, it was a rogue prosecutor’s fault. Then, it was the law’s fault for being "too confusing." Next week, he’ll probably blame the alignment of the planets or the fact that Austin’s breakfast tacos are too distracting. But here’s the kicker: Garza’s office reviewed these cases and decided that "the overwhelming majority were appropriate not to be indicted" within 90 days. Translation: "We had no idea what we were doing, so we just let the clock run out."

And let’s not forget the real victims here: the taxpayers, who are footing the bill for this circus. Every day these suspects sit in jail without indictment is another day your hard-earned dollars are paying for their room and board. That’s right, folks—your money is funding the world’s most expensive game of "Hot Potato," where the potato is a human being and the players are prosecutors who can’t be bothered to read a calendar.

But don’t worry, because Texas Republicans are on it. They’ve proposed legislation to force prosecutors to actually do their jobs, which Garza has responded to by suing the state. Because nothing says "I care about justice" like fighting tooth and nail to avoid accountability. Meanwhile, the 19-year-old dental hygienist is out there somewhere, probably flossing with the shredded remains of his faith in the legal system.

So here’s the takeaway: If you’re planning to commit a crime in Travis County, make sure you do it on a Friday afternoon. By the time the DA’s office gets around to your case, you’ll have already served your sentence—and then some. And if you’re innocent? Well, good luck. Maybe try writing a letter. Or better yet, start a livestream. It’s the only way anyone in power will pay attention these days. Wake up, sheeple! The system isn’t broken—it’s working exactly as the tofu-loving elites designed it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go stock up on tinfoil. The barbecue-smelling kind, of course.