March 30, 2006
Email of the Week Award!
Although there are still a few more days left in the week, at this time, I feel very comfortable awarding the following email the prize for “Best Email of the Week!” The message comes courtesy from a friend who is clerking for a trial court in Detroit. (Hey, somebody's got to live there!)
Here's the first line of a petition for a civil protection order (let me know if you find anything at all strange about this sentence):
The Petitioner and her great grandchild were sleeping when the Respondent busted into her bedroom, causing her white uniforms to fall into a bucket of urine.
Sounds like something that could happen at my apartment... well, everything but the white uniforms.
Posted by fool at 12:01 AM | Comments (7)March 29, 2006
No matter how silly their ideas might be to us, we must be gracious and generous hosts... OR NOT!
According to the Associated Press, the Hindustan Times, an Indian newspaper that brands itself as “The Name India Trusts for News,” advised women not to go outside during today’s total solar eclipse in order to avoid having a blind baby or one with a cleft lip.
I don’t know about you, but it’s stories like this one that really make me glad that India has nuclear weapons. I can just picture a future news story.
Yesterday, during our nation’s annual Kite Flying Festival, three ravens were spotted flying near a dragon-shaped kite. To ward off the evil spirits that always result from such an occurrence, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh detonated nuclear weapons in Paris, Chicago, Rome, and Islamabad. In accordance with the Book of We’re Living in the Middle Ages, Which is Good For You if You’re a Cow (available at amazon.com), the first three bombs were detonated to ensure that the ravens would not render India’s cows infertile. Despite earlier reports that no nuclear weapon was detonated in Islamabad, the Hindustan Times is confirming that Prime Minister Singh ordered a nuclear bomb to be detonated in Islamabad to “teach those Pakastani bastards a lesson.”
I’m going to go stab my right eye with a pencil for a few hours. It is 2006, isn't it?
Posted by fool at 12:50 AM | Comments (2)March 28, 2006
Conversations at Work: Volume XII
The Boss’ Secretary returned to work yesterday after a brief vacation. Her presence was felt (and absence missed).
Thinking Fool: I think we should buy squirt bottles for the office.
Coworker #1: Why?
Thinking Fool: Because [the Boss’ Secretary] is always coming into our offices at inopportune times, and I think that if we had squirt bottles, we could train her to stay out by spraying her with water each time she came into our offices.
Coworker #1: That’s a really good idea. But, don't you think we should throw bricks at her instead?
The love fest continues. To catch up on earlier displays of affection, click on the numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11.
Posted by fool at 12:17 AMMarch 27, 2006
Keeping Tabs on Former Friends - GE Friend Style
My best friend in elementary school (hereinafter “The Tank”) and I drifted apart about halfway through high school. (I refused to rob banks or murder prostitutes. And although I’m pretty sure the Tank refused to do those things too, one can never be certain.) GE Friend and the Tank both attended college at the same university. Thus, when GE Friend was home from college one weekend, I asked him about the Tank.
Thinking Fool: Hey, do you ever run into the Tank at school?
GE Friend: No, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.
The moral of the story? If you know GE Friend, make sure you check in with him at least once every six months. Otherwise, he might write your obituary prematurely (which is a bad thing unless you and your loved ones are trying to defraud an insurance company into paying benefits on a life insurance policy).
Posted by fool at 12:18 AMMarch 23, 2006
Favorite Moments from High School: Volume I
My high school economics teacher is an amazing man. He is a self-made multimillionaire and one day, he decided that he’d like to teach high school economics. Because he had plenty of “fuck you” money, he felt pretty comfortable doing almost anything in the classroom.
High School Econ Teacher: In just a few minutes, I’m going to show you guys a scene from the movie Trading Places. Now, I used to show the scene where Jamie Lee Curtis flashes her tits at the camera, but a few years ago, some kid went home and told his mom about it, and she got all pissed off and called the Bishop. Frankly, I just don’t need that shit! So, if you want to see Jamie Lee's titties, you're going to have to do it on your own time.
Stupid kid!
Posted by fool at 12:11 AM | Comments (2)March 22, 2006
Helping the Young Douche Bag Attorney Stick his Foot in His Mouth
I’ve agreed to have lunch with Young Douche Bag Attorney. Yes, I know that’s shocking, but if nothing else, you can’t say that I’m refusing to give the guy a chance (though I’ll admit that he basically has to move heaven and earth to convince me that he’s not a horrible human being). It has recently come to my attention that Young Douche Bag Attorney is very religious and very anti-homosexuality, so much so that in law school he actually participated at an event where he argued for the passage of a Constitutional Amendment banning gay marriage. A fellow federal employee who works one floor below me happens to be gay. He’s not flamboyant; so unless you have incredibly advanced Gaydar, you wouldn’t know he’s homosexual.
Knowing all of that, here’s my question: would it be wrong to invite the gay employee to have lunch with Young Douche Bag Attorney and me and then bait Young Douche Bag Attorney into talking about homosexuality and gay marriage? (Evil grin!)
Posted by fool at 12:14 AM | Comments (5)March 21, 2006
I Guess I'm Just the Latest Person Suing the Catholic Church
I've been thinking about suing the Catholic Church for quite some time. I've always been sort of embarassed, but I've finally done what needs to be done and put my thoughts into a complaint, which I plan to file soon. To view the actual complaint, click on the smaller version below. In the alternative, feel free to just keep reading.
THINKING FOOL,
Plaintiff,
v.
CATHOLIC CHURCH,
Defendant.
INTRODUCTION
1. Plaintiff THINKING FOOL attended a Catholic high school for four years.
2. While in high school, plaintiff befriended several priests.
3. Among other things, plaintiff went to movies, dinners, and lunches with said priests and remained in contact with them after graduating from high school.
4. At no time did any priest touch, attempt to touch, or even suggest that he’d like to touch plaintiff in an inappropriate way.
5. After reading about the massive abuses conducted by clergy throughout the world, plaintiff has spent numerous nights agonizing over the fact that no priest ever touched, attempted to touch, or expressed an interest in touching him.
6. No priest even tried to slip plaintiff a roofie despite having numerous opportunities to do so.
7. As a result of these actions, plaintiff has suffered severe emotional distress, including, but not limited to, a significant decrease in self-confidence.
CONCLUSION
8. WHEREFORE, plaintiff THINKING FOOL asks this Court to provide him with monetary relief to compensate him for the emotional damages he suffered when he was INTENTIONALLY NOT molested by any Catholic priests.
9. WHEREFORE, plaintiff THINKING FOOL also requests a written letter of apology from the Catholic Church for severe emotional damages suffered when no priest touched, attempted to touch, or suggested touching plaintiff in an inappropriate way.
# # #
Right now, I'm representing myself. However, if any attorneys are interested in representing me, I'm open to the idea. Obviously, I want to make these bastards pay.
Posted by fool at 12:41 AM | Comments (4)March 20, 2006
Conversations at Work: Volume XI
As previously mentioned, Coworker #1 is Jewish. He’s also a year older these days.
Thinking Fool: [Coworker #1], in honor of your birthday, we donated some money in your name to a charity.
Coworker #1: Oh really, which one?
Thinking Fool: Hamas.
Coworker #1: I hate you.Posted by fool at 12:33 AM | Comments (1)
March 16, 2006
From the You Cannot Make this Stuff Up File (even if you're on Crack, Coke, Heroin, Speed, and Ambien at the same time)
I recently received the following email from one of my friends who is clerking at D.C. Superior Court.
Today has been one of the best days yet as a clerk. I learned some invaluable lessons that should serve me well in the future:
1. When denying you hit your wife, and while cross-examining your wife about the allegations of hitting her, do not ask your wife why she did not call the police after you hit her if you already know that the reason she did not call the police was because you asked her not to call them because you are on parole for MURDER. Especially when the murder conviction has not previously been mentioned by anyone and the judge did not even know about the murder conviction.
2. When denying you hit your wife, do not bring your cell phone to court if the phone has a video taped recording of you hitting your wife.
You couldn't make this up if you wanted to. I just wish I would have known about these rules before I taught Street Law. I think I could have helped out several of my students!
March 15, 2006
My Take on the Zacarias Moussaoui Mess
The Average Time a Prisoner Spends on Death Row: 11-12 years.
The Amount of Time It’d Take for a Prisoner to Stick a Shank In Zacarias Moussaoui’s Ear if Moussaoui is sentenced to life in prison and placed in the general population: Maybe Six Months.
I’m usually pretty pro-death penalty, but I say we sentence this bastard to life and let the general prison population take care of him. Talk about the ultimate office pool...
Posted by fool at 12:45 AM | Comments (2)March 14, 2006
Do You have a Champagne Bottle I can Borrow?
The Young Douche Bag Attorney is doing nothing to get me to change my opinion of him. Yesterday, he strolled into my neck of the woods, peeked into my office, and said, “Fool, it’s not 11:00 a.m. yet. Why are you here?” I gave him about as cold a shoulder as a person can give another human being without using profanity. After Young Douche Bag Attorney left my area, Coworker #1 had a brilliant idea.
Coworker #1: You know how they have those ceremonies for ships where they take a champagne bottle and smash it against the ship?
Thinking Fool: Yeah.
Coworker #1: Well, we should have one of those ceremonies for the new guy. He can be the ship!
Aye, aye!
Posted by fool at 01:02 AM | Comments (3)March 13, 2006
An Open Letter from Thinking Fool to the "New Guy"
Dear New Guy,
Until you hear otherwise, for now on, I’ll refer to you as “Young Douche Bag Attorney.” It’s a perfect title for you.
Two weeks ago, you started working for the same governmental employer that I do. Fortunately for me, we do not share the same boss, which means I am not forced to work in the same immediate area with you. If I had to see you on a daily basis, let alone an hourly one, it would take about a week for me to start praising the virtues of murder-suicide.
When you approached me at the Happy Hour that several of us threw to welcome you to our family, I grew quite apprehensive. It’s not that I was scared of you; it’s just that I had a sixth sense that you were not going to be someone with whom I would enjoy conversing. Unfortunately, my hunch proved correct. After an incredibly painful five-minute conversation, I can honestly say that I would rather masturbate with razor blades than find myself in a one-on-one conversation with you for any protracted period of time. Judging by that thing growing above your lip, you might not know just how sharp razor blades can be; so let me put it another way: feel free not to talk to me again.
Young Douche Bag Attorney, by your own admission, you lack social skills. By his own admission, Jeffrey Dahmer lacked social skills. This leads me to wonder if you’ve ever worked in a chocolate factory. I don’t claim to be a master in social settings, but let me give you a quick tip. If someone asks you how you’re enjoying your time here, make sure your first response is not, “Well, I actually lived in D.C. two summers ago because while I attended law school, I interned for Senator [Home State].” That’s the type of answer that most of us would call “non-responsive.” But thanks for volunteering that allegedly flattering information about yourself. Those senate internships – they really are tough to secure, aren’t they? I noticed that you didn’t volunteer anything about your love life. Does your blow-up dummy get disturbed when you talk about her?
As you’re well aware, on Friday morning, I didn’t stroll into work until a few minutes before 11:00. You gleaned this fact from the instant messaging program, which alerts all of us when someone signs on or off. Of course, why you added me to your contact list utterly troubles me, but I guess there’s nothing I can do about that at this point in time. I must admit that during the fifteen hours I spent at work over the weekend, I didn’t see your name logged onto the network even once. Oh wait, I guess I wouldn’t see your name because I didn’t add you to my list of contacts. I reserve that list for people I actually don’t despise.
Young Douche Bag Attorney, if you’re trying to make friends at work, you’re taking a rather unusual approach.
Do you realize that you’ve butchered the names of nearly every single person you’ve met? Trust me; I’m not exaggerating. You even called a potential intern who might work for my boss by the wrong name when she was waiting to be interviewed. That’s right! In a two-minute span, you met this young woman, had a conversation with her, and managed to call her by the wrong name. I don’t even think a mentally retarded person could pull off that feat. I know that the first time you met me, within minutes, you weren’t calling me “Fool;” you were calling me “Spider.”
Given your tendency to slaughter names like Jack the Ripper slaughtered prostitutes, may I suggest not using names at all? It’s clear that you read some book about how people will like you if you call them by their names. Unfortunately, the book forgot to tell you that you have to call people by their actual names, not just random names. Doing the latter will actually repel people, not draw them in. Also, while we’re on the subject of prostitutes, did I hear correctly? Did you get turned down by prostitutes on several occasions? Did one of them actually say, “Shuga, I might be a dirty crack ho bitch, but I ain’t riding no lame dude’s stick.” (Apologies to all crack whores if I didn’t get the dialect down perfectly.)
Exactly what did you hope to accomplish when you came down to my office on Friday afternoon around 4:45? I’m still baffled by our conversation.
Young Douche Bag Attorney: So Fool, do you just roll into work whenever you want to? I added you to my messenger contacts and noticed that you didn’t get here until about 11:00 today.
Thinking Fool: (Thinking, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself!”) Well, actually, I couldn’t fall asleep last night, so I emailed my boss’ secretary to let her know that I’d be in late today and that I’d make up the hours over the weekend.
Young Douche Bag Attorney: Funny, I didn’t pull some cookies out of the oven until a quarter after midnight the other night, yet I managed to make it into work on time.
Thinking Fool: (Thinking, “Any chance we could let the D.C. snipers out for a weekend to see if they could pick off this asshole?”) I didn’t fall asleep until 5:00 a.m.
Young Douche Bag Attorney: Well, I’ll be watching you.
Thinking Fool: (Starting solitaire on computer) Thanks for stopping by; I’ve got work to do.
I’m really still quite puzzled about why you came to my office to harass me when we barely know each other, but I hope it’s the last time you every come to my office.
Yours truly,
Thinking Fool
P.S. – If one of those hookers actually accepts your offer, remember, don’t wear a condom. It’ll feel better that way, and God would never let anything bad happen to someone as wonderful as you.
Posted by fool at 12:43 AM | Comments (4)March 09, 2006
Dodging the Sidewalk Annoyances
When Coworker #1, Coworker #2, and I ventured to lunch the other day, we spotted one of those incredibly annoying human beings who stand on busy sidewalks trying to get people to give them money for whatever they seem to think is a worthy cause. Needless to say, I refused to buy any of her Girl Scout Cookies. (That’s a joke; it wasn’t a Girl Scout, but if it had been a Girl Scout, I might have called a truancy officer. After all, it was lunchtime in downtown D.C., and kids need to learn how to read, yes?)
I’m not sure what this woman was selling or what was on the flyers she was handing out; all I know is that I didn’t want to have any part of it.
Hippie Woman: Excuse me, sir...
Thinking Fool: (Shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders as I walked by her) Sorry. No ingles.
Hippie Woman: (Calling after me) No? Es bien porque hablo español.
Thinking Fool: (Still walking, but yelling back) No español either!
A few seconds later, coworker #1 looked at me and offered a friendly reminder.
Coworker #1: You know, you’re really an awful human being.Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (4)
March 08, 2006
A Friendly Tip to People Who are Trying to Get other People to Adopt their Cats
The following is a public service announcement for people who have cats that are up for adoption. (That means you should imagine James Earl Jones reading the following on a radio station.)
When the potential adopter notices that your cat seems a bit on the unfriendly side (i.e. what Ted Bundy would be like if he were to be reincarnated as a feline), don’t say, “In the month that we’ve had [the cat], she’s only let me hold her in my arms once, and she also hisses a lot, but I think it’s just because she’s still adjusting to the environment.” I mean, hell, you might as well tell a girl you want to set up on a blind date that the guy is really cute and nice and although he is suspected of raping seventeen girls and killing two of them, “I really think you guys would hit it off.”
To the woman in Alexandria, Virginia, good luck finding someone to adopt your cat! She's a real winner.
Posted by fool at 12:39 AMMarch 07, 2006
Your Doctor Can't Hold a Candle to My Doctor
After the bar exam, I had the luxury of spending a few wonderful days in my hometown catching up with my family, friends, hookers, crack dealers... you know, the normal cast of characters in every young man’s life. I also made sure I had time to see my doctor to get a routine physical. (Much to the dismay of the Cigarette Peddler, my health is excellent.)
I’ve always adored my doctor. Unlike my degenerate ex-brother-in-law, my doctor is actually an excellent physician, not a complete, bumbling moron of a doctor like my sister’s ex-husband. Plus, he’s funny as hell and returns emails and phone calls faster than Jimmy Carter can say, “I am a horrible human being.”
To top it off, during my recent visit, my doctor actually gave me a stereo. That’s right, he gave me a stereo. (Lest you think this was an attempt by him to touch me in special places, it wasn’t. He’s moving offices and didn’t want to transport the stereo from his current office to his new one. Plus, keep in mind that he’s a doctor. They don’t need to bribe you in order to touch you in special places.)
After he helped me transport half the stereo to the parking garage, I followed my doctor back to his office so I could get the speakers.
Doctor: See that guy up there in the maroon sweater?
Thinking Fool: Yes.
Doctor: Well, he’s my next patient.
Thinking Fool: Oh.
Doctor: He’s a retired radiologist and a TOTAL asshole.
Needless to say, my doctor is the best doctor in the universe.
Posted by fool at 02:30 AM | Comments (2)March 06, 2006
The Emotional Lawyer
In February’s ABA Journal, a columnist recalls the first time he saw a lawyer cry. He was in a Midwestern town where 12 local attorneys and a few judges had come together to discuss the ups and downs of practicing law. You see, the lawyer was... well, I’ll let the author take over from here before picking it up at the end.
Graying and in his mid-50s, John was a litigator, highly regarded in legal circles and in the larger community as well.
Unlike his colleagues at the gathering, he told the group a story- of something that happened during his earliest days in practice.
It concerned a child who had been institutionalized for behavioral problems and after many months was desperate to go home. His parents were ready to have him back, so John was hired to handle the legalities. He did so, he recalled, with great passion and commitment.
But then he turned inward, as he described the moment when the child was reunited with his parents: “He was so excited, so emotional,” John recalled. “He asked me, ‘Do you mean I really get to go home?’ I told him, ‘Yes, that’s right,’ and he smiled and said, ‘You are the greatest lawyer in the whole world.’”
(This is where I take over.) John broke down in tears before he could tell the rest of the story.
One of the local judges tried to comfort John by putting his arm around his shoulders. “Are you crying because it was at that moment that you realized how much good can be done using the law?”
“No,” John replied, barely regaining his composure. “I’m crying because later that night the boy slaughtered his entire family with a sledgehammer.”
“My God!” the judge exclaimed. “That’s terrible!" He paused for a moment, wanting to choose his words wisely. "You know, you really had no way of knowing. You can't blame yourself.”
“Oh, I don't!” John stuttered. The tears resumed rolling from his eyes. “It's just that... that... that the dad was supposed to pay my fee the next day. That little bastard cost me $20,000.”
Posted by fool at 12:40 AM | Comments (5)March 02, 2006
Conversations at Work: Volume X
A visitor recently came to the office to take the boss' secretary to lunch. (The fact that someone deliberately came to the office to take the boss' secretary to lunch baffled my coworkers and me more than fire baffled pre-historic creatures.) When the visitor and the boss’ secretary returned to the office, Coworker #2 broke the awkward silence.
Coworker #2: So how was your lunch?
Visitor: Oh, it was absolutely fantastic! [The Boss' Secretary] and I had a wonderful time. (Pause) Of course, it would have been even better had you all been there!
Coworker #1: (Via instant message to me) Not for us!
The love fest continues. To catch up on earlier displays of affection, click on the numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9.
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (3)March 01, 2006
The Law Student & Intramural Basketball: A Prick and Roll
Refereeing basketball games is something I’ve done off and on since college and unlike my current full-time job, it’s something I wish I could do on a daily basis. Thus, when an opportunity recently arose to referee some intramural basketball games, I jumped at the chance. (I didn’t literally jump, but if you needed clarification on that point, to quote Papa Fool, “You’re an idiot.”)
So there I was on Monday night refereeing an intramural basketball game between two law school teams. In other words, there were more egos in that gym than sexually transmitted diseases in Venice Beach.
In the middle of the second half, an offensive player drove to the lane and fell to the ground after a defender (Green Six) bumped into him. Thus, I blew my whistle, raised my arm to indicate that I was calling a foul, and told the scorer to charge a foul to “Green Six.” Sounds reasonable, yes? Well, not according to Green Six! That happened to be his fifth foul (meaning he was done for the game) and he was about as pleased with that fact as O.J. Simpson was when he tried to decapitate his ex-wife. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – how O.J. Simpson is still alive is absolutely bewildering to me.)
Green Six: (In a voice that even Helen Keller could hear) THAT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT! YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK!
Fortunately, unlike O.J., Green Six didn’t have a knife. Unfortunately, my partner was quicker than I was and assessed a technical foul before I could! (Yes, I’ll admit, calling technical fouls is part of the fun of refereeing.)
As Green Six threw his jersey to the ground and began walking off the court and out of the gym, he continued to express a rather strong dissatisfaction with the call.
Green Six: (Still in his Paul Bunyan voice) YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST FUCKING REFS I’VE EVER SEEN! YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK!
Bet you can’t guess what happened? Oh sure you can – technical foul #2, this time it came courtesy of the Thinking Fool!
When we administered the technical free throws (2 for each technical foul), one of the charming lad’s teammates seemed confused about why so many free throws were being shot. After all, it’s rare to see four free throws back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back.
Thinking Fool: Well, your teammate got his first technical for dropping the F-bomb. And then he got his second one for asking me to suck his dick. This may come as a surprise to all of you, but I don’t want to suck his dick.
I can’t speak on behalf of my refereeing partner, but I’m pretty sure he also had no interest in performing fellatio on Green Six. Maybe he’ll give us another opportunity at a future game.
Posted by fool at 12:04 AM | Comments (5)