Friday, January 30, 2009

What chair to choose

I am never surprised at work. This doesn't mean it's boring. It means that, overall, I make my living off of people who just don't get it. Here are a few common characteristics. I'd suggest you check to see if these apply to you, but if they do, you probably won't recognize yourself, because you're too fucking thick headed.

1. You're too fucking thick headed.
2. If you don't like a rule, you think it does not apply to you. Guess what? People in uniforms will have a problem with you. Get with the program. That's the point of rules -to get your dumb ass in line.
3. When other people tell you that you are being a dumb ass, you justify your behavior until they get tired of arguing with you, then convince yourself you convinced them and should move ahead with your retarded ass plan. For the record, you probably should not.
4. Nothing is more important than defending your pride, even your record, employability, or freedom from strip searches. Guess what? That idiot talking shit to you will not give you a job, sign your paycheck or bail you out. Let him talk.
5. You regularly break more than one law at a time, or break two in the same day. Today I read about a public employee caught with some weed at his house. Later the same day he gets a DWI in the company truck. He tells the cops he wasn't impaired because he only smoked a roach. Dude. First, you were at work. Second, you already got busted once today. Did you really have to ensure you spent the night in jail and lost your job? Third, you don't argue with the cops about how little pot you smoked. It's all illegal and you just blew your defense. Go home and flush the weed. You are not using drugs successfully.
6. Distorted self image with respect to the rest of the world. If you look in the mirror and see a cool outlaw, an entreprenuer who just thinks outside the box, a risk taker, a gangsta, if you often say 'people don't understand', 'I had to' or 'it will be ok, and if it's not, I'll deal with it then', chances are that you are, on some level, an idiot who is begging for an ass kicking. Haven't gotten one yet? Ask yourself if luck, like hope, springs eternal. No, wait - ask some homeless guy or somebody in an orange jumpsuit with 'inmate' stamped on the back. That won't happen to you? Refer back to #2. Back yet? You are a dumb ass. Now refer back to #3.

These are my people, and I love them, and appreciate that they pay my mortgage. Well, them and my girlfriend, who makes a lot more money than me. And because I know them, they do not surprise me. However, I am acutely aware of how little space there is between our chairs at the defense table. You have to be ballsy, innovative, flexible and headstrong to be a decent defense attorney. But being able to draw those fine lines put me in a suit on the left instead of handcuffs on the right.

The moral of the story is - It is, in fact, the the subtle differences that make a life.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

OMG, Prince Harry is single!

I'm not much for tabloid news. There, I said it. I don't feel smarter, or richer, or better informed when I know where Brittany is in rehab or who some some skinny chick in a designer dress is blowing this month. I don't care who Jennifer Aniston marries. If she shows up at my house with a fruit tray and propositions, that's another matter, but frankly, I'm not holding my breath. I am holding my breath for Sandra Bullock, however, just for the record.

Of course, I'm not a teenager. Not anymore, anyway. On most days. Teenagers love that shit because they have such inflated senses of self-importance. Debbie and Tyrone breaking up is the end of the world! OMG, oceans are going to rush over the beaches and take out entire communities in their grief. Teenagers like to gossip loudly in malls or other unfortunate public gathering places, hoping to be overheard, because surely the adults passing by will be impressed that the blonde one got invited to Tony's party, and secretly wish themselves they could go, but they are so old and boring, but everyone wants to go to Tony's - whoever the fuck Tony is and whyever they should care that he's convinced some morally challenged 30 year old to buy him shitty beer while his parents are in Idaho for the weekend. It's Tony! Teenagers, all listen closely: Tony is not a real celebrity. His breakup with Jami'ka is not nearly so interesting as Prince Harry's breakup with Chelsy Davy, the law student who he's been seeing for 5 years, probably because Harry is in the army and she's in law school and that has got to be hard, but dude, what guy is going to want to follow up that act? She's been doing the potential next king of England for the last 5 years. Talk about performance anxiety! He's so cute though and doesn't at all seem like a total dick like his father was, OMG poor Diana, right?

That was just an example. Ahem. And now, the NY Times, so I can get depressed over the state of the world and have my ego deflated over a crossword puzzle I can't finish until girlfriend bandit starts asking about breakfast - the Sunday of an adult who is very, very not famous. Well, at least Tony and Qu'a'liitay won't be gossiping about what I wear to the grocery store this afternoon, and I might just go looking like shit just because I can.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Sing, Sing a song about flying cars

I read today they finally came up with a flying car. Yay! Now we can have air traffic jams like in the Jetsons. Fortunately, it's about $200,000, so not too many speeding, tailgating idiots will be buying one, because the problem with a flying car is that when another flying car cuts you off, the wreck means you stop flying. Talk about whiplash from a fender bender! The bottom of the car will be jammed right up your ass and actually into your neck. Takes a hell of a chiropractor to fix that shit.

Of course, I want one. And of course, that isn't going to happen. I can't even afford to fix the cracked windshield on my 10 year old Nissan. Oh, wait, it isn't my Nissan, it's my girlfriend's old car. And that's with my student loans on deferment. My friend at the public defender's office makes more money than me. Now that shit is sad; NC has the lowest paid court officials in the country. And she gets benefits and all holidays off and can pay her student loans and bills at the same time. This gives rise to quite a few questions. Will this job translate into raises that allow me to pay the bills and eventually buy a used Honda, will I regret taking a job based on hope, will I snap one day when another atrocious and unnecessary hiring decision is dumped into the front office over ignored objections, will I make coffee, burn the toast, remember toast gives me gas, run out of gas, go running, run away, or sing, sing a song? Tune in next week: same broke-ass time, same broke-ass channel. Only time will tell.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

I'm not giving up my Yoyo, even for king messiah supercool.

Is it time to get real already? The reflecting pool was frozen, and Obama really could have walked on water. *Sniff.* He also let me down saying it was time to put away childish things. I got a new Batman yoyo for Christmas and I really like it. I'm not putting it away, either, so there!

I love this guy. I really do. I couldn't help but notice, though, that his speech gave a shout out to practically every conceivable group except gay people. OK, he didn't mention one-legged auctioneers, agoraphophic dentists, or blind cake decorators. But still, man! If the coolest guy to ever take office ignores us, who is going do speak for us? What, am I the fucking Lorax tree? I know I'm asking a lot; he's still a politician and has to work with a bunch of right wing not jobs. But come on, dude - you included atheists and ignored us? When we got our marriage rights stripped in California the day you got elected? Oh, shit, I forgot - it's all gay people wear their invisibility cloaks day.

And, the reality is, (mind you, I still have the yoyo) that he doesn't walk on water. And the truth is that it's a good thing that today, millions of us believed the message that 'we can'; can change, can grow, can save ourselves. But tomorrow someone will buy a Hummer, and someone will close an American plant to open one in China, and Karl Rove will accept his re-election in Hell, and some homeless family will freeze to death because there wasn't room in the shelter, and some one will learn to play the banjo, and someone smoke their first rock of crack because they can't get away from the guy with the banjo.

Maybe the lesson is patience. Black people had a long, hard road from slavery to this day, and the country still has a long way to go on that front. Homelessness, poverty, SUVs, bagpipes, and all of society's other ills are going to take some time to fix, and treating gays and lesbians like second class citizens isn't going to go away overnight either, even if Barak is president king messiah supercool. So, tomorrow, it's back to work. Today, it's snowing, and beautiful, and the messiah let me down, but maybe an imperfect world needs an imperfect leader, and I still believe in him.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Long live the king!

So I'm really looking forward to Obama's coronation. I mean inauguration. People say it's more like a coronation and it's true, but fuck it, maybe we need someone kingly right now. We've just suffered eight years of having a drunk frat boy drive the country into a ditch like his dad's mercedes. Things suck. We need someone to put on a pedestal to prove the pedestal hasn't been reposessed.

We also need someone with common sense enough to not be a bully. I've been thinking and have come to the conclusion that the same rules apply to dealing with friends, coworkers, customer service representatives and smelly international diplomats who eat weird stuff. I'm particularly sensitive to being bullied, probably for some deep seated psychological reason I won't be paying a shrink to unearth because after all that money I'll still want to throw things/rebel/quit/bite when I feel that way, but still, I suspect that in any arena, being a bully is at best a short term solution that causes long term problems. Look at Bush - he bullied the UN, Iraq and pretty much everyone else. And for a while, he got what he wanted. But long term, he got the lowest approval ratings in history, a shitcan economy, lots of dead people, roadside bombs, more terrorists than ever, and the whole world thinking we're a bunch of arrogant assholes. I met a girl at a party who trains horses and explained how she works with them, not on them, and how animals who run in herds or packs never follow the bully; they follow the one who has shown good decision making abilities. Of course, Americans aren't too bright and reelected our dumbass in cheif, but we caught on eventually.

So, I think the same thing applies in personal relationships.I don't know whether we as Americans are particularly susceptible to this, but I do see a lot of people who confuse wearing people down with getting them to agree. It's not the same thing. Anyway, maybe the other guy had to be worn down because your idea sucked - like going to war in Iraq with no plan or evidence we needed to be there, for instance. So, here's a thought - if someone gives in because they're sick of telling you you're an idiot and your idea is not good/stupid/dangerous/inappropriate/makes them want to stab you/is going to get you sued/ etc. it doesn't make the idea a good one. Getting one's way by bullying also comes at the expense of creating resentments, damaging relationships and making people just feel run over - which does not make the herd want to follow you.

But Obama makes people want to follow him. 2 million people are trekking to D.C. in the fuck-me-oh-hell-what-is-this cold to watch him get sworn in for a reason. He makes people believe we're not a bunch of bullies; that we can listen; that we have the common sense to respect and build good relationships with people we need; that we're not just arrogant pigs, but people who are capable of growth and change for a greater good.

So, I say give Obama a fucking crown and some purple robes, I don't care. I'm so glad to trade in this illiterate schoolyard bully for a grown up with some self discipline and tact I don't care if he gets carried in on the shoulders of 6 men in turbans and fed grapes by local virgins, only the virgins should, of course, not miss school, since they're probably only in 5th grade. Anoit his head with oil. Whatever. If he can save some kid from a roadside bomb and make us look a little less like international date rapists, I say long live the king.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Sometimes it is their fault

We've been repainting the interior of the house and rearranging. You may also call this an exorcism, since we're getting rid of all leftover furniture from my crazy ex and the ridiculous colors she picked out we've been living with for the past 4 years. It went like this: I woke up about 2 days after I took the bar, looked around and said "what the fuck is this and why do we have a bright green living room?" It took us a few months, but things look better and are beginning to feel a lot less haunted by something insane.

The last piece of furniture to go was a brown armchair that was worn out when crazy ex and I got it. We put it on craig's list for free, which excused not explaining it might be haunted. The city rescue mission called and talked to girlfriend bandit.

"Still have the chair?"
"We can come get it today or tomorrow."
"Great. Come today."
"We can come tomorrow."
"Uh, Ok. when?"
"About 1."

So at 1:30 she calls and they say:

"Oh, yeah, we'll be there tomorrow."
"You said today."
"Really? OK, we'll be there at 4:00."
"Um, OK."

4 p.m. comes and goes. Apparently, about 6:30 they roll around and leave a note saying they had come for the chair.

And this is why they are unemployed and homeless.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

New year, monkeys and here's to no bar

Well, I got a new calendar. Otherwise, what did I tell you? Things are pretty much the same. The hoopla over a 'new year' is really just an excuse to get drunk and a money maker for defense attorneys, who profit from all the stupid shit people do when they are drunk: drive, break windows with firecrackers, punch people, pee in the street, drive trucks into houses, fight their baby's daddy's new baby's mama, break windshields, buy crack from an undercover officer any sober idiot could tell was a cop, yell in the street with an open bottle of shitty whiskey, stuff like that.

If I buy into the idea of a new year, at least I don't have to take the bar this year, which is really a measuring stick. House burn down? Bird flu? Monkey infestation? Hey, it's not the bar. Further, I'm on my way to having associates of my own to abuse and, if I'm lucky, enough money to buy a new car someday. It will probably be after I pay off my student loans, which I'm on track to do when I'm 73, at which time they will take my driver's license, but I won't care, because I'll have that new fucking car and will drive it, fuck them. Oh, that new car smell! A windsheild with no crack in it! A stereo with speakers I haven't blown yet! Dreams I cherish like a child, except I don't beat them. Sigh.

Until next time, glad you got to read me. Happy new year and may you visit bars, not take them.