Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Public Service Announcement

Ladies, if I can tell from the far side of the courtroom that your G-string is tuned to A -- your outfit probably violates part, or all, of the "Acceptable Court Wear" memo posted at the courtroom door by the Judge.

Plus, District Court is not a place to wear that cute little number that you bought for the nightclub, the beach, or any place where the major architectural features are limited to a stage and a brass pole.

And -- as we have learned -- just because you aren't the one on trial, doesn't mean that you can't catch Contempt of Court charges.

Now we know. And knowing is half the battle.


Sunday, September 20, 2009

For my Gentle Readers of the Medical Persuasion ...

... I give you The Laryngospasms!

AD, why does the video immediately make me think of you?



Friday, September 18, 2009

Of Advice, To A Stranger

Oh, I know what you're thinking: What advice can I -- a man comfortably in his fourth decade -- offer to one such as yourself, not even twenty years on this little green dirtball, and thus vastly more knowledgeable in the ways of this wicked, wicked world?

Never-the-less, do allow me to try.

I shall not attempt to advise you that, when using expectorant as a condiment upon a customers hamburger, one really shouldn't go for the Deep Lung Hork. While it is a loud enough -- not to say distinctive enough -- noise to elicit giggles from your co-workers, only persons of the late-teens/early twenties age-group are cunning enough to recognise that noise as an indication that Things May Be Afoot.

Likewise, far be it for me to point out to you the tactical -- nay, strategic -- difficulties involved in Saying It With Saliva at a cook station fully open to the view of the cash registers. And the people at said cash register. I bow to your Youthful Treachery, sir.

In the same vein, only a naif would fail to understand that it is only the most wonderful of coincidences that the customer whose food you are so sublimely spicing is the same middle-aged man to suddenly point out of the window and exclaim that person, or persons, unknown are -- and I quote, "Messing with your car, man!"

How a complete and total stranger would know which conveyance is yours, or to even care that it is being "messed with", is a testament to your cunning, Young Sir, but bless this most naive of your elders for bringing this to your notice and allowing you to rush outside to interrupt the "messing with".

No, the advice I offer this fine fall afternoon involves the simple white cotton handkerchief.

If you were to get into the habit of carrying one of these items on your person at all times, you would find it of remarkable utility: one could dust off a seating place, hand it to a damsel to allow her to blot tears, or even to blow ones nose -- although it appears that you have that process well in hand, so to speak.

Or you might even be able to use it to staunch that crimson gush spewing from your afore-mentioned snot-locker like the Devil's own fire hose.

Just some advice.

By-the-by, I was truly inspired by the way you pounded that middle-aged man's knuckles with your face. You brilliantly displayed The Stuff Of Which You Are Made. Bravo, sir. Bravo.

Nothing but love,


Saturday, September 05, 2009

For your viewing pleasure: more "right-wing rage".

By way of Gentle Reader sru132:

You know, according to the Leftist Conventional Wisdom, this probably counts as "astroturfing", and should be considered prima facie evidence that I'm receiving a cheque from the Republican National Committee.

RNC must have my mailing address wrong, because so far I've not received one brass farthing.

Stingy buggers.


They won't let me.

A Nony Mouse opines:

"If you don't want government run health care, then kindly refuse to participate in government run retirement - Social Security. While you're at it, make sure you don't enroll in Medicare too."

Unfortunately, refusing to pay the FICA payroll tax (funds both Social Security and Medicare) winds up with humour-impaired people with big guns showing up at your house with a Federal Arrest Warrant.

Something about "tax evasion" -- which the Federal Government appears to take altogether too seriously.

Otherwise you think I wouldn't refuse to participate? Hell, yes, I would refuse -- I'd take that money that the government currently steals out of my paycheck and invest it my own damn self.

Not only would I actually receive the benefits of MY OWN SODDING MONEY, but I'd avoid those pesky little "Flemming v. Nestor" problems.

Thank you for playing, though.