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.

Resolutions for the faint of obedience

I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions, since I figure if I'm too lazy, selfish or insolent to do something different on any other day, why should getting a new calendar make a difference? However, I recognize the value of marking one's choices - such as getting married, buying a midlife crisis camaro or setting the now ex's clothes on fire, thereby making the breakup official. However, as I am a counselor at law, I've decided to hand out some potential resolutions for the faint of obedience: i.e., my clients, the theives and crackheads of the world. My suggestion to you is to resolve to:

1. To break only one law at a time. If you are drunk, don't run red lights or have your buddy stick their ass out the window. If you have no license, don't drive drunk. If you have 3 pounds of coke in the trunk, don't speed, or rob a liquor store.

2. To pay your fucking lawyer. Guess what? Until you've paid, you have no lawyer and are on your own when the D.A. gets sick of giving you continuances. Know how you thought you shouldn't go in on that robbery without a lawyer? You're going to, and I'm going to be in the back drinking coffee and probably not even wishing you luck. What, am I your guardian angel?

3. To not smack your girlfriend. If your girlfriend is a bitch, leave her. Smacking her up will not make her less of a bitch. In fact, she will, surprise surprise, probably just be pissed at you and get your stupid ass arrested. In a nutshell, "she deserved it" is not a defense.

4. To not come to court drunk. Seriously, it doesn't help.

5. To not come to court high, particularly on a drug charge. People can tell you are high. You are fooling no one. Your red, slanty little eyes and inability to dig your keys out at the security station will not be chalked up to allergies.

6. To pull your damn pants up. The judge will not be impressed by your fine choice in underwear.

7. To realize I am your advocate, not a miracle worker. See those other 276 people in the courtroom? They want to get out of here too. Sit down and shut up. If you didn't want to spend the day in court, you shouldn't have been buying meth in a stolen car.

8. To not smash windshields. Smashing someone's windshield only makes one point: you are an asshole with anger issues who needs to grow the fuck up. Find another solution.

9. To run your story by a couple people before you bring it to court. If they laugh, it is not a good defense.

10. To keep your car on the road: not to veer off into a ditch, a japanese maple, a convenience store, or someone's living room. Ass on the asphalt, it will save you a lot of money in the long run.

Good luck to you and happy new year. May your crimes be smart, your cops be lazy and your alibis strong.

Cheer me up, dammit.

The end of the year, in reality, means nothing. People made up calendars to keep up with themselves and each other and to explain why grandma is so much more wrinkly than the baby. On January first we'll all be the same people dealing with the same shit washing the same dishes and changing the same baby and grandma diapers. Calendars mean nothing.

Yet, at the end of every year it seems like everybody's shit gets stirred up and we feel weird. I've been pretty depressed lately. Of course, the dead fish didn't help, or crap at work, or realizing suddenly that Christmas is next week and I just don't wanna. People around me are cranky. On the bright side, there's this D.A. with awesome legs who wears a skirt almost every day. Yeah.

This morning I started a list of cheer me up things. This is as far as I got.

1. D.A.'s legs. Both of them. In high heels. Mmmm.

2. Christmas will be over soon. No more stupid music in every store I go into because I need grapes and deodorant. People will stop wearing Christmas sweaters, which are an abomination and should all be burned. I will not be tempted to strangle some guy in a stupid Santa tie for 12 more months. Overall, good.

3. If I break down and stab somebody, I know several really good defense attorneys and all the local judges. I just need to stab someone in this county.

4. There's always chocolate.

5. Butt stick is only in the office for another week. (If you're confused, see post "butt stick.")I am looking forward to no longer having to deal with butt stick, who could probably benefit from a good ass kicking. Again, I do know some defense attorneys.

6. L word starts back up next month, even though retarded ass Showtime is taking it off the air and ripping everyone off with a 6 week season. Still, though. It's the L word.

7. I never have to take the bar again. Thank God, because I'd stab myself.

8. I'm running out of ideas. That's sad, isn't it?

Help me out here. Mail your happy thoughts on a postcard taped to the hood of a new BMW to: Bah humbug, 110 S. Dammit Street, Gimme-leggs NC. Don't use cheap tape and fuck up my paint, either. thanks.

Ours is not to reason why

I have been sworn in as an attorney for 10 weeks. I have decided my job is to be helpless for the hopeless. However, I have not yet turned off the impulse to wonder why people do the things they do, though I manage not to ask. Why, when you need your license to keep your job, were you drag racing? And why were you racing in a shitty pickup truck that can't outrun the cops? Why did you try to beat up the guard when you were in jail? Why did you throw beer on the cop? Why did you steal all that shit with cameras on you? Why have you been skipping court for the past 7 years and what, exactly, am I supposed to do about it? How did it seem to be a good idea to show up to court shitfaced drunk? The list goes on. In fact, it goes on and on, every day. This is how I make my living.

It would help if just the clients were confusing. The guy I work with collects stray dogs of the person type and dragged in this nutjob with no office social skills for 6 weeks to help her feed her kids because she can't find a job. I pointed out that this just means she'll be out of a job in 6 weeks but the logic seems to have escaped him. Yesterday she insisted on telling us all about how her husband told her she was fat then left her for a 500 lb. woman. I am still wondering how I managed to not say "maybe he meant fat in the head." We'll put that down as divine intervention. This saga was detailed in the car on the way home from lunch, so the staff was trapped in this sedan of sorrow with no way out. Help! I thought. I sweated with the exertion it took to not explain I'd probably choose being crushed by a woman the size of a refrigerator to being crushed by the daily torture of listening to her too. I looked around wildly, wanting to jump out in traffic but had on a nice suit and didn't want to rip it up, so I came up with the idea of counting blue cars and billboards. Then this morning I was rushing to get out to court and talking to the office manager about my files when chick interrupts to show me a picture of her kids. I have one question. How did this seem to be a good idea? Oh, right, I don't ask why anymore. I just try not to shoot people.

Ultimately, I suppose mine is not to reason why, mine is but to do what I can and collect fees. We'll see what I've learned 10 weeks from now. Maybe I'll be able to afford some new suits and hang them in the office in case I have to jump out in traffic and have everyone else staring at me asking "now why did she do that?" Time will tell.