I’m feeling a little rusty with this blog, and honestly, all I can think about these days is this plane crash business. I feel like I said my piece about it already. It sucks. It sucks balls on the hottest day of the year after a marathon.
But, I try not to dwell on things too much, and I know you guys tend to like the funny stuff more than the serious stuff. I feel you, believe me. The last thing I want to read on the internet is a lot of whining and carrying on. I’m far more interested in the nudity and the lolcats. Yes… that’s right. I find that shit funny. Ridiculous, but funny. Everyone knows cats can spell. The little bastards are too smart for their own good.
So, on to lighter news from the Schrader household: My wife had the dreaded jury duty the other week. Now, I tend to be exempt from jury duty thanks to my illustrious service as a law enforcement officer. I’ve testified in court plenty of times, but I generally don’t have to mix with the great unwashed like you have to when you’re stuck in that sad little juror holding room. My fair wife was excused — no doubt because the defense sensed her idea of justice is a bit more Biblical than our current system. (I love her, but man… she will CUT you if you cross her. I wouldn’t want to be a defendant anywhere near a courtroom that let her decide my fate. Shoelace noose, man… it’s better in the end, believe me.)
The other night, she’s yakking about the usual yahoos you get during jury duty. (Don’t tell her, but I bet she made it into a few of those yahoos’ stories to their families.) It got me thinking back to the last time I actually had to serve jury duty.
Now, I gotta tell you, the phrase “jury of your peers” is one of the scariest out there. If these people are my peers, I’m trading in my human being card, stat. You’ve got some douchetard next to me, trying to play the system. He decides to trot out the tried-and-true “well, I know what’s right better than the legal system despite my total lack of training in the law” spiel. Save it for the next Mensa potluck, Poindexter. Then you’ve got the old guy who keeps loudly mumbling that the judge is a filthy time thief. Old fogey’s retired, but it doesn’t matter — he has very important places to be! It’s lime Jell-o day down at the senior center! I gotta laugh — people have no idea how close they are at any moment to being thrown in jail. People, do not mess with the judge. He will own your ass.
Course, then you got the Rhodes Scholar in front of me. Judge gets to the old “do you think cops are more likely to tell the truth” question — a dumb one… the answer is pretty obvious (of course they are! But don’t say that). Moron P. Braindead here apparently didn’t get the memo because he starts going on and on about how cops have clandestine ways of lying without people knowing. They know secret loopholes, apparently. They have “covert cop kung-fu ninja truth-bending skills” (that is a direct quote, ladies and gentlemen). I kinda tuned out before he got to the part about how the government was tracking everyone through dental fillings (we’ve all heard it anyway) and went back to my crossword. Our friend ended up on the jury anyway… so put that in your pipe, my friends. One of the many, many reasons to not commit a crime. (Beyond the whole, “it’s wrong, and Uncle Hank WILL bust your sorry butt.”)
Alright then, better run to my cloak-and-dagger secret cop meeting. At least writing this took my mind off the plane crash for ten whole minutes. Bless you, internet, and your endless supply of b.s.! Hankster out.Read More