February 28, 2006
Apparently He Isn't Familiar with the Party Admission Exception to the Hearsay Rule!
Yesterday, one of my best law school friends observed a fine upstanding citizen loitering outside D.C. Superior Court. To be a little more specific, this highly respectable D.C. resident stood about two feet outside the courthouse when my friend overheard him tell another person, “If I'd had a full clip, I would have dumped ‘em all up in him!” Makes you feel all warm and tingly inside, doesn’t it?
It really shouldn’t come as a shock to learn that you can find an assortment of weapons from guns to knives to pepper spray hidden in the bushes outside D.C. Superior Court. (Thus, if you’re in the neighborhood, why waste money on a Virginia or Maryland pawn shop when you can just pick up some weaponry for free?) Many fine upstanding members of the District mistakenly believe that if they leave their weapons in the bushes on their way into court, they’ll be able to grab them on their way out. Thankfully for us, many of these model citizens enter the courthouse on their own accord, but leave in handcuffs!
Speaking of model citizens, last night, a law student told me to suck his dick.
Posted by fool at 12:03 AM | Comments (4)February 27, 2006
Dinner with the Family: Oh Captain, My Captain!
On Saturday, Papa Fool treated Mama Fool, Sister Fool, and me (notice, I didn’t use “I”) to dinner at a very nice steakhouse in my hometown. For a supermajority of the meal, our waiter, who referred to himself as our “captain,” acted in a more formal manner than even Emily Post would suggest. In fact, it took him the entire meal before he finally loosened up a bit and realized that my family is not comprised of people with sticks up their asses (especially now that "The Shaman" is no longer part of the family).
Captain Waiter: Is there anything else I can get you folks? Perhaps dessert, a cup of coffee, an espresso, maybe even a massage?
Sister Fool: Ooh, do you guys give massages that include happy endings?
Waiter: (After about ten seconds of silence elapsed and with pure embarrassment plastered across his face) Umm, I’ll have to check on that for you.
While Captain Jack was away, Papa Fool and I encouraged my sister to ask yet another question.
Waiter: Here’s your check, it’s been an absolute pleasure serving you tonight.
Sister Fool: Captain, I understand that someone at this restaurant either likes to or has actually been charged with committing mopery. Is that true?
Waiter: (Completely bewildered) Umm, I’m not certain. I haven’t heard anything like that.
Sister Fool: Well, do you know what mopery is?
Waiter: No, I don’t.
Sister Fool: Mopery is exposing yourself to a blind person.
At that point, Papa Fool and I started laughing uncontrollably.
Waiter: (Looking at my parents) You folks should know that you raised a very classy daughter.
Naturally, that only made us laugh harder. Needless to say, it was great being home.
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (5)February 22, 2006
Day One Down, Day Two, Here I come
Tuesday was really fun. By "really fun," I mean it was like taking a corkscrew and accidentally mistaking your eyeball for a wine cork, a wine cork which you were determined to extract from the bottle.
In other news, I'm pretty sure I'm going to start smoking. I've been smoke-free for 27 years. That's quite long enough, don't you think? More on this later.
To all fellow exam takers, if you think day one was difficult, remember, it's not too late to sodomize the exam on day two. Do it Kobe-style!
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (5)February 21, 2006
A few things as the Bar Exam approaches...
First, in less than twelve hours, day one of the bar exam will be well underway. Thus, spare a good thought or two for me (unless of course you’re a jerk or not on the up and up with God).
Second, I am pleased to announce that my frolic and detour from work has already produced (in my mind) what I think will be an excellent blog entry.
Third, today a person stumbled across this blog by conducting the following google search: “how can I stop touching myself.” If you are the person who conducted that search and figure out a good answer to that question, by all means, share it with the rest of us.
Peace to all (unless you’re an Islamofascist bent on the destruction of civilized society).
Posted by fool at 12:10 AM | Comments (3)February 17, 2006
But Officer, I promise! We weren't going to have Sex with that Goat!
Yesterday, police officers discovered a live goat in a storage room at a Western Kentucky University fraternity house. Officials didn’t know how long the goat had been held captive, but according to a local Bowling Green television station, the goat didn’t have any food or water and was standing in its own urine and feces. Some members of the fraternity told police the goat was going to be used in a hazing ritual. Apparently, the idea was to make some of the pledges think they were going to have to have sex with the goat. (I didn't think we still had people like this living in America.)
I imagine this incident will dominate the father-son telephone conversations for quite some time.
Pa: Boy, I reckon I heard something about you having some sort of problem at that there college you go to.
Son: Oh, it’s nothing major, pa. We were having some fun at the fraternity house and the cops ended up getting pissed off because we had a goat in the closet.
Pa: You had a goat in the closet? Now, why in the hell is the law mad at you for that? Did you tell them that you isn't livin in New York City? You should have told them that this is Kentucky, and in Kentucky, it ain’t uncommon for people to have goats out here.
Son: Well, they actually seemed more concerned that a bunch of us were going to have sex with the goat.
Pa: Son, as long as you're gentle, ain’t nothing wrong with that.
And folks, this is why you can add all members of the Western Kentucky University Alpha Gamma Rho house to the list of people who should not be allowed to procreate.
Posted by fool at 11:39 AM | Comments (4)A Pet Peeve: The Use of “I” and “Me” – Let's Use Some Cucumbers to Straighten this Out!
Since I’m trying to learn as much as I can in preparation for the bar exam, I feel like this is a good time to make you suffer too. Unlike the stuff I'm trying to learn, hopefully what's offered in this blog entry will be something that you'll actually remember for the rest of your life. It might not make you rich or even get you action in the sack, but rest assured, you'll be a better person for reading this entry. On the other hand, it's quite possible that you will not be a better person after reading this entry. Shall we continue?
This is the only post I’ll ever write about grammar (unless I decide to write another post about grammar in the future. Very committal of me, yes?). I realize this invites widespread mocking whenever I screw up a grammar rule or two, but that’s fine with me. In fact, let it be known right here and now that the Thinking Fool will never be upset if you post a comment or send an email (ThinkingFool at gmail dot com) pointing out a grammar/spelling error on the Thinking Fool’s site. With that stated, let the lesson begin.
“I” might be the most misused word in the English language. In fact, over the last decade, more and more people, from newscasters to politicians to bloggers to homeless people to midgets to TEACHERS (argh!), have jettisoned proper “I” usage in favor of blatantly wrong “over-usage.” (This irks me even more than the media’s insistence on adding “gate” to any scandal. See, e.g., Travelgate, Memogate, MonicaGivesThePrezAHummerGate. After all, the Watergate scandal was not a scandal about WATER. It was a scandal that involved breaking into a building that happened to be named WATERGATE! Thus, why the hell we add “gate” to every scandal is quite ridiculous. It’d be like calling the Nixon break-in Watergategate.)
The problem: People, especially “educated” ones, think “I” sounds “smarter” than “me.” People like to sound smart (unless they’re trying to convince a judge that they’re too dumb to be executed). See Atkins v. Virginia, 536 U.S. 304 (2002). Hence, when people have to make a decision as to which word to use, if any uncertainty exists in their minds, people are going to go with “I” over “me.” And why not, everyone else does it, right? Well, if everyone else was having sex with Victoria’s Secret models, would you do that too? Hmm, probably not the best hypothetical I could muster.
The example: “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for you and (I/me).” (What they want us to do with that cucumber is a complete mystery, but you know just how sick and twisted those old bastards are.)
Now, the correct answer is “me!” “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for you and me.” However, you know as well as I do that you hear several people say things like, “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for you and I.”
“I” is WRONG in that instance! Don’t use it like that! For the love of God, don’t do that!
If you find yourself confused or think you’re misusing “I” and “me,” don’t fret. After all, not only does the Baby Jesus still love you (even if you haven’t accepted him), your deficiency in this area is easily remedied.
Here’s a simple trick to help determine whether you should use “I” or “me.”
Just say the sentence without the other word.
“Just say the sentence without the other word? Huh?!?!?! Fool, you sound crazier than John Hinckley at a Jodie Foster book signing!”
Let me teach by showing, rather than by telling. (I always thought "showing" rather than "telling" was how my sexual health classes should have been taught, especially if I had any say on who was teaching the classes!)
Here’s an example.
If you’ve got a sentence like the above-mentioned one, simplify it by splitting it up into two sentences.
1. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for you.”
2. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for (I/me).”
In the second sentence, which word would you use, “I” or “me?” Well, obviously you know that saying “I” would make you sound like a communist from Russia. And because nobody wants to sound like a commie bastard, of course you’d say, “Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought a very long cucumber for me!” You’d never use “I” in that situation.
Right???
RIGHT!!!
So, why the hell would you use it simply because another word gets added to the sentence?
Correct response: You SHOULDN’T!
Let’s try another one.
“Sheila and (I/me) went to the store to buy a very long cucumber.”
Split the sentence up into two sentences.
1. “Sheila went to the store.”
2. “I went to the store” OR “Me went to the store.”
You know as well as I do that “Me” didn’t go anywhere, so “I” is correct. Thus, the sentence should read as follows: “Sheila and I went to the store to buy a very long cucumber.” (Sheila seems to be good friends with the Joneses, which scares me slightly.)
How bout this one?
”Our friends are going to invite you and (I/me) to a cucumber demonstration.” (I don’t know what the hell that means, but it sounds quite interesting.)
1. “Our friends are going to invite you to a cucumber demonstration.”
2. “Our friends are going to invite (I/me) to a cucumber demonstration.”
In this instance, our friends aren’t going to invite “I” anywhere. They’re going to invite “me!” Thus, “Our friends are going to invite you and me to a cucumber demonstration.” (Hopefully, Heidi Klum is one of our friends. Hell, she can even bring Seal if she wants.)
The same rules apply to the use of he/she/him/her.
”Ted really wants (he/him) and (she/her) to go to the party.”
1. “Ted really wants (he/him) to go to the party.”
2. “Ted really wants (she/her) to go to the party.”
Well, of course Ted wants HIM to go to the party. He also wants HER to go to the party. Thus, “Ted really wants him and her to go to the party.” (Hopefully he doesn’t plan to slip either of them a roofie.)
Finally, try this one.
(She/her) is going to beat the living crap out of Yoda and (he/him). (Yoda might like that!)
1. “(She/her) is going to beat the living crap out of Yoda.”
2. “(She/her) is going to beat the living crap out of (he/him).”
SHE is going to beat the living crap out of Yoda. (Little green bastard deserves it!) SHE is also going to beat the living crap out of HIM. Thus, SHE is going to beat the living crap out of Yoda and him!
Lesson over. Hope it was instructive for someone. For the rest of you bastards, have a nice weekend. And if you hate this post, take solace in the fact that the next six days of my life are going to blow more than...
a group of second graders at a chewing gum convention.
(What, were you expecting a different analogy?)
Posted by fool at 12:09 AM | Comments (1)February 16, 2006
Conversations at Work: Volume IX
To say that Coworker #1 doesn't like the Boss' Secretary is akin to saying Kevin Federline is a bad parent. In other words, it's a gigantic understatement. With that in mind, here's the latest from the workplace.
From: Coworker #1
To: Thinking Fool
Subject: Best Idea Ever
We should pay to send [the Boss’ Secretary] and [her husband] to Iran as long as they agree to wear “I'm from Denmark” t-shirts.
If you've missed out on earlier conversations at work, click on any of the following numbers to catch up: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.
Posted by fool at 01:04 AM | Comments (4)February 15, 2006
Finessing the Refs when You’re Getting Hosed: Papa Fool Style!
Let me take you back to a time when I was in the eighth grade. Like many future attorneys, I was involved in lots of extracurricular activities, including (but not limited to) playing the piano, playing baseball, serving as president of the student government (my administration was about as effective as Jimmy Carter’s), touching myself, touching myself again, playing basketball, wagering on dog races, and touching myself with the other hand (young dogs can learn new tricks and at that point, I was still a fairly young dog).
One afternoon, my school was playing basketball against our arch-rival, the evil public school down the street. Because my school didn’t have a gym or any Catholic priests from Boston, no young boys were molested underneath the stands, our coach always volunteered to play our “home” games on the road (as long as our opponents had gyms).
So, there we were, the “home” team on the road playing against the evil public school at the evil public school’s gym. The game was close throughout, a true seesaw battle! Two students from the evil public school were at the scorer’s table. One operated the scoreboard; the other kept score in a scorebook.
The high intensity must have been too much for these two geniuses because they started making more errors than Dick Cheney on a hunting trip. (Hey, cut me some slack; I’m studying for the bar and at least it’s timely.) Of course, it’s possible that they purposefully added points to their school’s score instead of rightfully awarding points to my school. However, I hope that wasn’t the case because I tend to think that people don’t truly become evil until they reach high school. (With that stated, it still wouldn’t surprise me if these two individuals went on to become serial killers.)
Regardless of whether the mistake in scoring was intentional or not, one thing was clear: my team was basically being forced to give the public school a rim job. (This week only, the first law student who answers a professor’s hypothetical by inserting the phrase “rim job” into your answer will win a free t-shirt from the Thinking Fool. Yes, t-shirts are in the works and you will definitely want to have one! Trust me on this.) Needless to say, our fans were not pleased. By “not pleased,” I mean our fans started acting EXACTLY like a bunch of militant Muslims who just saw an offensive cartoon depicting Mohammad as a terrorist WITH THE EXCEPTION that our fans did NOT burn any flags, buildings, or people, and they also did NOT beat or kill anyone. In other words, they acted nothing like today’s militant Muslims because although perturbed, nobody behaved in a psychotic fashion.
Because he was as agitated as anyone, our coach called a timeout to see if he could straighten things out. The referees didn’t seem overly receptive to his pleas.
Coach W: Guys, they’ve got the wrong score up there. They gave points to the other team after we made two baskets.
Referees: (After consulting with the two student geniuses) Well, what they’ve got down in the book matches what’s up on the scoreboard, so there’s not a lot we can do.
Coach W: I’m telling you guys; they’ve screwed it up! That’s not the right score!
Referees: (Sternly) Coach, we’ve got to go with the official book.
At that point, the referees walked away and it seemed like we had lost the battle... that is until Coach W suddenly had a revelation!
Coach W: WAIT A MINUTE, GUYS! We’re the HOME team today! We’re the HOME TEAM!!! (Apparently, he thought this little realization was game, set, match for his argument.) That means I’m responsible for paying for you guys, and it also means (pointing to the stands) that my guy up there is the official scorer!
Anybody want to guess who “my guy” was?
Yup, that’s right, Papa Fool.
It should be fairly obvious that Papa Fool wasn’t seated at the scorer’s table. To the contrary, he was sitting with all the other parents while he kept score in a scorebook. For an official scorer, this was pretty unconventional behavior, and unsurprisingly, the referee called us on it.
Referee: (Quite perturbed at this point) IF HE’S THE OFFICIAL SCOREKEEPER, THEN WHY ISN’T HE SITTING AT THE SCORER’S TABLE?
After saying that, the referees turned their backs to the bench and started walking away. They probably thought they had gotten in the last word. After all, the question was a great one. Official scorers do usually sit at the scorer’s table and almost always introduce themselves to the referees before games. Papa Fool had done neither of these things. However, that didn’t stop him from offering a very succinct, yet memorable explanation, which is probably still reverberating off the walls of the evil public school’s gymnasium, as to why he wasn’t sitting at the scorer’s table.
Papa Fool: (Yelling loudly enough to be heard down the street) BECAUSE THERE’S NOT ANOTHER CHAIR DOWN THERE, YOU IDIOT!
That pretty much silenced the gym. Well, it didn't silence me. I started laughing.
For reasons that still baffle me, the referees didn’t give my team a technical foul at that point. (True, it wasn't quite like Dennis Hopper wandering out on the floor in Hoosiers, but had I been in the striped shirt, I would have T'd up my team's coach.) Unfortunately, the referees didn’t give us any close calls the rest of the game. (Shocking, huh?) And yes, we lost. And yes, I still touch myself. And yes, I'm glad we lost - I probably wouldn't remember the story had we won. And yes, I still touch myself (but not with the other hand).
Posted by fool at 01:45 AM | Comments (1)February 13, 2006
Reason #72 for the Vice President to Quit Hunting
Nobody has ever needed to convince me not to hunt. Unless you’re actually going to eat them, shooting helpless, innocent animals just doesn’t grasp me as something that one should enjoy. 
In fact, the whole concept is pretty nauseating, especially if you actually mount the head of the animal on a wall in your house. (Why not just shoot people? At least they have a chance to shoot you before you kill them. NOTE TO SERIAL KILLERS: YOU SHOULD SHOOT ANIMALS. DO NOT SHOOT, RAPE, STAB, OR INJURE HUMAN BEINGS. IF YOU MUST KILL, RAPE, INJURE, ETC., DO IT TO ANIMALS, NOT TO PEOPLE. (Sorry, PETA.) For the rest of you, how about just not killing innocent creatures? Is that so hard?) Of course, Vice President Dick Cheney and I don’t see eye to eye on this issue. Whereas the Thinking Fool abhors the idea of killing animals for fun, Cheney seems to enjoy shooting birds and other creatures as much as pedophiles enjoy molesting kids.
As a very famous philosopher once said, “Those who derive pleasure from killing animals are much more likely to shoot people, have hideous-looking mustaches, and masturbate thinking about Yoda fondling a horse.” I don’t know if the Vice President has ever sported a mustache and though I have my suspicions, I’m not sure if he’s ever stroked his instrument while fantasizing about Yoda playing “Veterinarian” with Seabiscuit. What I do know, however, is that over the weekend, Dick Cheney shot a fellow hunter in Texas. Apparently, the guy will live (though he's in his late 70s, so for how much longer is anyone's guess).
If nothing else, our soldiers should be happy about this incident. After all, now that the Vice President finally knows what it’s like to shoot another human being, maybe that will cause him to pause the next time he wants to send our young men and women to war.
Yeah, probably not.
Sigh.
Posted by fool at 12:01 AM | Comments (10)February 09, 2006
An Open Letter from Jimmy Carter to the American Public
My fellow Americans,
I come to you today to admit something that I’ve never admitted before.
As you know and as I now admit, I was one of the worst presidents in the history of the United States. By any measure, America simply sucked while it was under my watch. In fact, it’d be an accurate statement to say that under my leadership, our fine nation sucked even more than my wife Rosalynn did after I confessed in a Playboy interview that I had impure thoughts about other women. I’ve never admitted this publicly, but after that article appeared, my lovely wife did everything she could to keep me thinking about her instead of, as she put it, “Those young, big-breasted, tan-legged, disease-spreading, hussy whores.” For a couple weeks, the non-stop blow jobs did the trick. They caused me to look at Rosalynn in a whole different light because, well, I don’t want to get too personal, but it had been a long time since she had used her mouth to play with this peanut farmer’s nuts and stick.
I want to apologize for that last paragraph. It was a digression that shouldn’t have been made, yet for some reason, I’ve decided to let the paragraph stand. Rosalynn, I apologize.
During my administration, America suffered high unemployment, high inflation, high interest rates, high gas prices, a hostage crisis in Iran, and numerous other things that made me a complete and total failure. Lest you misunderstand, I was not just a failure professionally, but also one personally. In other words, one of the reasons Rosalynn didn’t want to play with my nuts was because I hadn’t made her orgasm since our second wedding anniversary. Even then, my lovely wife later told me that she had been thinking about a film she had seen the night before that starred a young Ronald Reagan. My friends, I do not miss that man.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t fix any of our nation’s problems. The reason for this is simple. I don’t have even a slight understanding of how the world actually operates. Hell, I can’t even make my wife orgasm and Lord knows she’s given me plenty of opportunities to try.
Despite being utterly clueless, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I try to open my trap every opportunity I get. Even if I were a twenty-year-old gay man, I don’t think it’d be possible to open my mouth as much as I do. Do you remember when I cornered President Clinton and got him to let me negotiate with the North Koreans to keep them from developing nuclear weapons? As you know, the North Koreans now have nuclear weapons. This pretty much summarizes my abilities as a leader.
The only thing I’ve really been successful at is building homes for poor people. Aside from that, I’m pretty much a waste of carbon.
Recently, at the funeral for Coretta Scott King, Dr. Martin Luther King’s wife, I attacked President Bush even though it was a completely inappropriate occasion to do so. I simply cannot help myself.
That is one of the reasons why I agree with Don Imus, who used his radio program to describe me in the following manner: “Not only was [Carter] an awful president, he is an awful person. I don’t care how many Habitat homes he builds or what the hell he does. He’s an angry, petty, little schmuck. What a horrible human being.”
I AM a horrible human being.
And unfortunately, in more ways than one, I am a petty, little schmuck.
I am as bad an ex-president as I was a president. Hell, even Clinton and Bush Sr. get along with each other, yet both would rather sodomize a diseased goat than have a conversation with me. If I were them, I have to admit that I think I’d feel the same way.
To the late Coretta Scott King, I’m sorry for acting like an imbecile at your funeral. I’m even sorrier that you actually shook my hand and endorsed me for President of the United States. Without your support, I don’t think I would have ever gotten to live at the White House. There’s no doubt that an America without a Jimmy Carter Presidency in its history would be a much stronger America. May God forgive you for helping me get elected.
My fellow Americans, this will not be the last time you hear from me. I am like a bad case of herpes – I just keep coming back, especially when you don’t want to hear from me. Fortunately for you, like herpes, I eventually go away at death.
Yours truly,
Jimmy Carter
James Earl Carter, Jr.
39th United States President
P.S. – Rosalynn is so disgusted with me that she won’t even let me crawl on top of her if I promise to wear my Ronald Reagan mask.
P.P.S. - Pro-lifers, if my parents had aborted me, I never would have been president. Think about that for a few minutes.
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (6)February 07, 2006
And the winner for “Best Thing a Professor Ever Said to a Law Student” is...
If Clarence Thomas ever wants to retire from the Supreme Court, he ought to consider teaching law at Arizona State University. Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. “Arizona State!?! Fool, why in the hell would he want to teach THERE? That’s not even the best law school in the state!”
Well, let’s just say I think he’d get along really well with one particular member of the faculty.
Picture it, December, a dozen years ago.
According to the Phoenix New Times, approximately 100 rowdy 1Ls, all thrilled that their first semester of law school was finally over, decided to do what many law students do at the end of the semester – they decided to go out and drink! This particular group went from restaurant/bar to restaurant/bar rejoicing in the pleasure that was not having to study for a few weeks.
Several professors joined them, including the man who taught Civil Procedure.
When an attractive female student entered his gaze, the eccentric Civ Pro prof decided to break the ice. At first, his method seemed rather conventional.
“Hey, are you in my class?” he asked.
Before the attractive 1L could utter a word, the professor looked her over and decided to journey down the road less traveled.
“Well goddamn, I’d know if you were in my class, ‘cause I wouldn’t be there. I’d be home fucking you every day!”
Yes, you read that correctly.
Want to see it again?
“Well goddamn, I’d know if you were in my class, ‘cause I wouldn’t be there. I’d be home fucking you every day!”
How much money would you pay to be able to go back in time and witness that?
Was the professor polite? Hardly.
Appropriate? Not even by Clarence Thomas' standards.
Yet, was that the greatest thing a law professor has ever said to a student? Until I hear otherwise, without a doubt!
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (7)February 06, 2006
Searching for Porn, but Finding the Fool Instead!
Apparently, if you do a google search for “pictures of bosses fuckin there secretaries,” my site is the second one that will pop up on the results page. (Mom, I know you’re proud.) To the fine upstanding citizen in Reston, Virginia who performed this search, I apologize. As you undoubtedly learned, there are no pictures of bosses copulating with secretaries on this page. However, I have a hunch you might have better luck with your search if you actually spell “fucking” and “their” correctly. I realize those are difficult words that create problems for people with fourth grade educations, but hang in there, buddy. You’ll find the porn you’re looking for eventually! I believe in you. And don’t be discouraged that you only have two teeth; it’s a good look for you. Seriously!
For all the grammar teachers out there, I just solved a major problem for you. “How?” you wonder! Well, the next time one of your inattentive students says, “I ain’t need to know how to spell good because I ain’t never going to have a job that make me write,” you look him in the eye and tell him that if he doesn’t learn how to spell well, he’s going to have a hell of a time finding porn on the internet. If that doesn’t motivate him, nothing will. Oh, and buy him some fixodent. He's going to need it by the time he's 40.
Posted by fool at 12:49 AM | Comments (2)February 05, 2006
Charlie Gibson, You Sound Like a Horrible Human Being
Charlie Gibson is a bitter, condescending jerk. At least, he sure sounds like one. Last week, David Westin, President of ABC News, asked Gibson and Diane Sawyer to fill in for World News Tonight co-anchor Bob Woodruff while Woodruff recovers from injuries he suffered in Iraq. The New York Times quoted Gibson as saying, "I was doing it [substitute anchoring] before. [But then t]hey gave the job to Bob and Elizabeth [Vargas]. Then back you come. I can see the viewer might be a bit confused about what's going on. But you just do it." Talk about sounding bitter that ABC decided to go with Woodruff and Vargas instead of him. Also, what a martyr (“But you just do it.”)!
Because Charlie seems to think we’re all idiots who will be terribly confused by his returned presence on the set of WNT, I’ve generated a ten-point summary he can provide WNT viewers to help us understand things better. That way, hopefully, we won’t be so damn confused.
1. Peter Jennings was diagnosed with lung cancer.
2. Charlie Gibson and Elizabeth Vargas filled Jennings' shoes while he was being treated for cancer.
3. Unfortunately, Jennings died.
4. ABC didn’t know whom to anoint as the new WNT anchor, but Gibson, Vargas, and Woodruff were the leading candidates.
5. ABC decided to go with Woodruff and Vargas, making them co-anchors.
6. That means Charlie Gibson didn’t get the job.
7. After less than a month of the new broadcast, Woodruff suffered a grave injury in Iraq. It was the lead story in every major newspaper.
8. Because of Woodruff’s injuries, ABC needs someone to co-anchor with Vargas until Woodruff can return. The network asked Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer to do just that.
9. Charlie Gibson thinks viewers might be confused when they see him back on the air in the WNT timeslot. After all, he didn’t get the permanent gig.
10. When Gibson appears, the Thinking Fool will be watching Bob Schieffer or Brian Williams. They’re not quite as condescending. Of course, that's if I can figure out how to change the channel! After all, that's a pretty confusing process.
Posted by fool at 02:12 PM | Comments (0)February 02, 2006
The Fool and the Karate Teacher: If Only I Knew Then What I Know Now
When I was seven, Mama Fool and Papa Fool thought it’d be a good idea if my brother, sister, and I took karate lessons. My brother was pretty good at it. I was not.
The studio where we took lessons was a karate/boxing combo operation. Thus, when we were trying to learn how to get out of a choke hold (a really practical thing for a seven-year-old to know), the boxing students were in a ring sparring with each other. Needless to say, I got distracted at times and actually watched the boxing students spar every once in awhile. This did not make my asshole teacher happy. He had two methods of communicating. Yelling and yelling harder. (Imagine the drill instructor in Full Metal Jacket.)
Karate Teacher: FOOL! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?
Thinking Fool: Those guys boxing.
Karate Teacher: YOU’RE HERE TO LEARN KARATE! DO YOU WANT TO BOX?
Thinking Fool: I don’t know.
Karate Teacher: BECAUSE IF YOU WANT TO BOX, FOOL, I CAN ARRANGE FOR YOU TO BE PUT IN THAT RING RIGHT NOW AND YOU CAN FIGHT ONE OF THOSE BOXERS IN THERE!
Thinking Fool:They’re about five years older than I am, you moron; I may be young, but I’m not a complete idiot. By the way, is it necessary for you to yell ALL the time?Umm, no, I guess I don’t want to box.
Karate Teacher: THEN YOU BETTER START PAYING ATTENTION IF YOU WANT TO LEARN HOW TO DEFEND YOURSELF.
Thinking Fool:You know what. I’m seven fucking years old, you asshole. Seven! I haven’t even fully reached the age of reason yet, so could you do me a favor and stop screaming at me like some sort of lunatic? How the fuck did you end up as a karate teacher anyway? Is that what you dreamed of doing with your life when you were growing up? And by the way, if you really think as a seven-year-old boy, I’m going to be able to defend myself against John Wayne Gacy and company using some stupid karate move that you’re going to show me, then you’re a complete idiot.Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll pay attention more.
There aren’t many moments in my life where I wish I had a rewind button. The interaction with the Karate Teacher was certainly one of them.
Posted by fool at 12:18 AM | Comments (2)February 01, 2006
An Open Letter to Senate Democrats from Samuel Alito
Dear Senate Democrats,
As you know, yesterday, by a 58-42 vote, the United States Senate voted to confirm me as the 110th justice of the Supreme Court. As you also know, most of you voted against me. One of you even tried to organize a filibuster from Switzerland! Congratulations on yet another failure. You guys are pretty good at failing, aren't you?
During my confirmation hearings, members of your party expressed enormous concern that I would try to overturn Roe v. Wade. You sought assurances from me that I would not disturb what Chief Justice Roberts referred to as a “Super Duper Precedent.” (By the way, he was kidding about that.) You attacked my character and legal reasoning. Hell, your questions even caused my wife to cry! You must be really proud of yourselves. I know the "make the nominee's wife cry" move really endeared you to the American public. By the way, she was faking. You guys are probably pretty used to women doing that though, aren't you?
Although the Bush administration didn't want me to I didn’t feel comfortable responding directly to many of your questions during the hearings, now that I’m actually a justice and the only way you can remove me from office is to impeach me, I’d like to take this opportunity to let you in on something.
Are you ready?
Sitting down?
Here it comes!
The first chance I get, I am going to try to overturn Roe v. Wade. That's right, you can kiss baby-killing goodbye, unless of course you want to move to China. Oh and guess what, Roberts told me he’s going to try to overturn it too. But you guys already knew that, didn’t you?
In any event, just wanted to check in and thank you for voting against me. I look forward to pissing you off for the next thirty years.
Respectfully Gleefully,
Sammy
Samuel Alito
Associate Justice
United States Supreme Court
P.S. – Might be a good idea to tell your daughters to go on the pill or to invest in some pretty expensive coat hangers. They're going to need them!
P.P.S. - Senators Leahy, Kennedy, and Durbin, you all can go fuck yourselves.
Posted by fool at 12:41 AM | Comments (4)
