Utah, Get Me Two

Guess I'll Never be Cool

2010-05-21T21:48:00.005-05:00

It's been nearly ten years since I graduated from high school. At the time, I was sad to leave. I had made friends, gotten comfortable, and had no idea there was a world outside of my small speck of Wisconsin. As I left for college, I was convinced I'd never make friends as good as those I had in high school. The few girls who responded to my awkward suggestions of dating were the only women I thought I'd ever truly love. And people actually thought N'Sync was cool.

I got a call tonight from an old friend I haven't heard from in a couple of years. One of the friends I thought I'd never lose touch with. Turns out our class leadership (I didn't vote, all of the candidates sucked) organized a ten year high school reunion. They sent out invitations via email and even went to the trouble of calling parents and sending mailings to last known addresses. Of some people. Not me. So, when I was told to check out the website of the class reunion and sent an innocent inquiry to our class secretary (who used to be smoking but is apparently now only smoking barbecue to consume in mass quantities) as to whether I could walk in for the reception, I was promptly rebuffed. "Sorry, you're past the deadline, maybe in 5 years!"

I always thought of myself as someone who was cool amongst the nerds. I was never the ultra-popular ladies man. Never the star jock. Never the rich kid whose parents bought him a 2000 Audi (yes, that kid aside from being a dumbass douche was one of the most popular to walk the halls of my high schhol). When I left high school I had the perception that things were great, but I would get better myself. To this day, I think I subconsciously harbored the illusion that I'd be able to change myself and one day be "cool." That in the years to come, I'd be accepted by the popular crowd. Those people thought I wasn't even worth tracking down.

Contrary to the expectations of my single-digit readers, this isn't going to be another mopey, depressed post on why I'll never be good enough for the people in my life. Since high school I've had some amazing experiences...met wonderful people in college and some real lifelong friends in law school. I've squared off against a rabid raccoon...and some non-rabid raccoons. Threw a football at a beach cat. Discovered Point Break. And realized that being cool doesn't mean being happy. Honestly, for as smart as I think I am, it took me a long time to figure that out. So if they don't want me ten years later because I'm not worthy enough to hang out in the high school parking lot amongst popped collars and inflated senses of accomplishment, fuck it.

So I guess I'm not going to have a class reunion movie moment where I show up and everyone who thought I was a dork in high school now realizes I'm the shit. Drew Barrymore, Freddie Prinze Jr. and Ryan Reynolds are apparently lying sacks. But that's okay. I guess in the end, I can only hope that all the people who looked down on me in high school get raped in a feces-filled gutter by a rhino with aids. Ah, memories.

Habeas Cockslap (You have the Cockslap)

2009-12-17T19:44:00.004-06:00

For only the second time in my career, I've petitioned a Court for a writ of habeas corpus. Habeas is an "extraordinary writ" that is only used in specific instances alleging that a person is being held in custody unlawfully. In my case, I have a client who has been on a revocation hold for 99 days after an incident where he became "unreasonably loud" with his psycho ex-girlfriend. I sent a total of three certified letters and ten angry phone calls to the probation agent and supervisor staffing the case demanding discovery and inspection of their file. I was denied repeatedly. On the date of the final revocation hearing, the agent showed up fifteen minutes late with a 60 page revocation packet filled with all kinds of evidence I hadn't been allowed to inspect. It recommended four years incarceration in the Wisconsin State Prison System. The shocked ALJ immediately adjourned the proceedings to give me time to, you know, investigate and prepare.

I moved the circuit court for a writ of habeas corpus alleging that the sheer ineptitude of Agent Fucktard resulted in my client being held indefinitely without due process. I also threw in the fact that Wisconsin law requires these hearings to be held within fifty days of incarceration. Today I recieved a "cease and desist" letter and threatening phone call from some dickhole in the AG's office. He told me that my case was "frivolous" and "unethical" and if I don't immediately dismiss he would have the writ quashed and me professionally disciplined. The Assistant AG informed me that as a lowly public defender, I likely have not handled nearly the volume of habeas writs that he had and am way out of my league. My decision to subpoena the wayward agent and his supervisor apparently make me personally liable to them for frivolously taking them from their jobs. Of course, he mentioned that "fairness" dictates the Attorney General's office have at least eight weeks to respond and stated that adjournment was necessary.

"Fairness" in this case would involve my client not being imprisoned without any hearing, notice of alleged violations, or discovery for over 100 days. Of course what this prick doesn't realize is that I practice in front of a longtime rural judge who absolutely hates lawyers he doesn't know...especially government lawyers....ESPECIALLY big-city lawyers. I can't wait for the moment when I'm ordered to bone his mom right in front of him and pull out to ejaculate my stream of justice telephonically all over the DOJ. It makes me absolutely furious when the government abuses its power at the expense of a poor, uneducated individual who has no power to resist on his own. As a realist, I'm cognizant of the fact that I could very well lose this. Afterall, Justice Gableman taught us all that defending them criminals makes us the scum of the earth...and middle earth (I defended Gollum). But fuck, what I wouldn't give for five minutes of absolute immunity to commit 940 offenses in the name of justice.

UPDATE: Put this one in the "W" column. Fuck you, J.B. Van Hollen. Dah Deh Dah; Dah Deh Dah (Victorious Sportscenter theme).

Another store I may not be welcome at

2009-10-28T20:49:00.003-05:00

Old Lady at Wal-Mart checkout: "Cough, Cough, hack, phlegm" [all over Mr. Utah's groceries on the conveyor belt]

Mr Utah: [presumably under his breath] "Mind not coughing the swine flu all over my fucking food?"

*All parties turn to stare at Mr. Utah immediately after said remark*

Unbelievable

2009-10-15T18:01:00.003-05:00

Loving v. Virginia came down more than forty years ago. God bless the South for always giving me a reason to feel righteously indignant.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091015/ap_on_re_us/us_interracial_rebuff

Lou Holtz: Dementia in Action

2009-10-10T22:19:00.002-05:00

Lou Holtz: But when you're fighting for a national championship, every second counts. (Referring to Notre Dame Football)

Mark May: "Fighting for a national championship?" They haven't even played a team with a winning record yet. The best defense they have gone up against was ranked 72.

Lou Holtz: Why can't you just be unbiased about Notre Dame, like I am.

Editors note: Nice to see someone filling Madden's stupid shoes.

On a fucking stairmaster.

2009-10-09T16:22:00.002-05:00

Today I recieved some depressing news. The corporation counsel whom I'd gone back and forth with over the past two and a half years died in his sleep. He was a year away from retirement. I know this because he told me the day before.

It's always such a shock to hear about the sudden death of someone you see every week, especially when that person was healthy and relatively young. In hindsight, the suddenness of it all makes things seem pointless-that someone could spend his whole life working and then die too soon in an entirely ordinary way. In season three of the wire, Jimmy McNulty heard about the death of Detective Ray Cole after collapsing on a stairmaster. All McNulty could say was "On a fucking stairmaster."

I never really understood that scene until today. Life is unpredictable, and being a good person doesn't prevent death from keeling you over way too young. All of the things you put off will never get done. You look at the lives of these people and wonder if they were happy, hoping the answer is yes.

I'm sad to hear that he's gone, but glad that I have the opportunity to evaluate my own life. I think we all need these wake up calls now and again to realize that life doesn't care about how much we want things. If we don't get it done in time, it won't happen. Most people live their lives without living at all. I'm thankful that my last lesson from this man (He pwned me in the courtroom several times) is such an important one.

Bruce Willis?

2009-10-08T20:59:00.003-05:00

I've made this analogy before plenty of times, but it's time to vent about it in public. Bruce Willis played the male lead in arguably the better of the two mid-90's comet movies: Armageddon. He was a badass driller rocking the chrome dome. Ladies? But despite all of his marketable qualities, he found himself alone throughout the movie.

Ben Affleck, in his normal routine of douchebaggery, fell in love with Bruce Willis' bangin hot daughter and failed to succumb to Bruce's shotgun. Long story short, Bruce and Affleck found themselves out in space on an asteroid with Steve Buscemi. The goal was to drill a hole to the middle, throw a nuclear bomb down the middle, and blow it to pieces, saving Earth in the process.

So in the movie's pivotal moment, the crew discovered that the remote control used to detonate the nuclear bomb had malfunctioned. They had to draw straws to determine who would sacrifice himself to blow up the asteroid while the rest escaped unscathed. Ben Affleck drew the short straw, but alas, Bruce realized how much Affleck loved his daughter and chose to sacrifice himself instead. You know, because he was alone and didn't have hair.

If my world were Armageddon, I'm pretty sure I'd fall into the Bruce Willis role. Assuming you all don't want my cosmic cockslap to be the last thing you all see raining down from the death asteroid, I want you to all vow right now to name a bunch of schools and/or Qdobas after me in the event of my martyrdom. No promises to save France.

N'Suck

2009-09-22T18:00:00.007-05:00

I spend alot of my work day surfing the internet to relive awkward pop references from the 80's and 90's (Go Bayside!). While I earned my state-reduced salary I happened to stumble on a band that was big my senior year of high school: LFO.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1dfEf1qOt4&feature=related

My only thought as I relived this video was "THIS was cool??" A bunch of frosted-hair assholes faux-rapping about how they like girls who wear Abercrombie and Fitch? Not only do the lyrics make no sense, (e.g. "Fell deep in love but now we aint speakin, Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton"), but those words that they manage to string together are naturally enraging to anyone who has at least one descended testicle.

LFO stands for "Lyte Funkie Ones." Apparently this means they're white boys who are down with the funk. Well, play that funky music, white boys. I'm guessing the lead singer, the guy with the Zack Morris hair and Jersey accent is supposed to be the "tough guy" of the band. You can tell when he sings "I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike" means that he's ready to throw down for his boys. But beneath his wrong side of the tracks exterior, he has a soft spot for Abercrombie and Fitch-wearing socialites.

So seeing as these guys are probably millionaires, I'm guessing it won't be too hard to travel back to the 90's and start my own boy band. I'll round up a group of talentless Gap models and call it D-BAG. They'll make boatloads of money singing about how they like girls. Girls with nice clothes. Of course, as their music manager I'll hold all of the profits in trust. Then I'll schedule them for a concert at 7:30 a.m. on September 11, 2001 at the top of the world trade center, pants them on national TV, and parachute off the building screaming lyrics from Journey. Kanye West can open.

Hey Bodhi, Vaya Con Dios

2009-09-14T21:14:00.002-05:00

The second lead in the greatest film of all time has cast himself into the figurative giant tsunami never to return. Patrick Swayze passed away today at the age of 57. Without him, there would be no Bodhizafta, no ex-presidents, no beach football amid a gasoline-soaked blaze. And no Red Dawn, either; easily the second greatest movie of all time...or Roadhouse: #3.

This is honestly one actor I'm going to miss. I'll feel nostalgic every time I watch Point Break from this point onward. Rest in Peace.

"Yo Johnny, I'll see you in the next life"

-Bodhi

Deja Vu

2009-08-13T16:43:00.003-05:00

The sensation of experiencing something you have experienced before. In this case, the numbers on my paycheck, reduced to where it was when I was first hired more than two years ago. Thanks to Jim cockfuck Doyle and my capitulating care bear union, I now have to take pay cuts and furloughs of almost eleven percent my annual salary. Why? So we wouldn't lay off fourteen new law school hires to cover the deficit in the budget our representatives in Madison couldn't balance. Hope you appreciate it, fuckers. For the record, I voted for their termination.

Public service is becoming more and more expensive. I write this semi-anonymous post in direct violation of the edict not to bad mouth the agency or Governor Dickhole for the ass-ramming we just endured. My frustrations have grown to the point where I can't really rule out going on a massive workplace rampage atop a rhinoscerous with flamethrowers and shark launchers. At least if I get convicted of first degree intentional homicide, the government will spend what I'm worth in care and custody. And in prison, I won't be forced to cancel HBO.

Bottom line, I'm out as soon as it's feasible.

Coon Cola!

2009-06-19T22:09:00.002-05:00

I thought I had closed the final chapter on my battles with Raccoons after the great roof shootout of '05 (i.e. watched the raccoons crawl out of my roof and into the gutter). But apparently they've chosen a new home to plot their revenge.

http://video.yahoo.com/network/100000086?v=5289218&l=100000085

The Greatest Late-Night Appearance EVER

2009-06-09T17:42:00.002-05:00

I haven't watched the late night show since Conan left. However, I am now a loyal follower. Last night Jimmy Fallon hosted Zack Morris; his first ever public appearance since Saved by the Bell. Yes, he actually appeared as Zack Morris. AND got a call from Jessie Spano on his sick-ass early 90's cell phone. Although I'm sorry to hear about Kelly's decision to leave him for Jeff at the Max (fucking bastard!), it was good to see my favorite preppy once more.

http://www.latenightwithjimmyfallon.com/blogs/2009/06/zack-attacks-late-night-signs-on-for-the-reunion/

Insert Penis Joke Here

2009-05-31T16:15:00.000-05:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090530/ts_alt_afp/usitresearchmilitarylaser_20090530082418

Time to move on?

2009-05-07T18:40:00.003-05:00

Observe Wisconsin Governor Jim Doyle. This man is a cockmonger. A cockmonger is one who mongs cocks.

Today Governor Doyle announced a plan that would deny me my contractually promised pay increases, reduce those raises I've already recieved, and force me to take over three weeks of unpaid leave to the tune of a seven percent reduction in salary; leaving me making less than I actuallly started at. But don't worry, I will be expected to do more work that I do at the present for the Badger State.

My boss tried to assure me that it sounds worse than it really is. Basically, I was advised to take it in the ass because the government will eventually feel bad and make it up to me. For some reason, the words of Preston "Bodhi" Broadus came to mind:

"Do the chair realize we gonna look like a bunch of punk ass bitches?"

Fuck.

2009-05-04T21:08:00.002-05:00

See supra.

Another Wolf-Related Rant

2009-05-03T20:16:00.002-05:00

The Federal government has officially lifted the endangered species ban against hunting and "population control" on gray wolves in the Rocky Mountains and Great Lakes zone-including Wisconsin. The reason for lifting the ban in place since 1974? Wolves have reached a "minimum" population that won't be immediately extinguished by hunting and government-sponsored poisoning.

Not to sound like a hippy (I frequently feed them to my own wolves), but this doesn't seem to make a lot of sense to me. Thirty-plus years to recover an entire species that was nearly wiped off the face of the earth and as soon as the packs meet a minimal threshhold of sustainability, the government sanctions wholesale genocide to appease some farmers in Idaho? True, the wolves may be takin' their jobs by killing an occasional goat, but what the hell are those farmers going to do when they wipe out the only cure to the futuristic wolf flu? If I learned anything from Sylvester Stallone, it's that nature provides the best cure to worldwide epidemics, even if that cure happens to be dandelions. But I digress.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090503/ap_on_re_us/us_wolves_recovered

Korean glow in the dark Hound

2009-04-28T20:15:00.002-05:00

South Korean scientists have genetically engineered a litter of beagles to glow brighter than the fires of a thousand suns in the dark. Yes, that's right. Not only can you now have a badass dog to keep you company, but that motherfucker will glow in the dark! Finally, we can turn those earth-destroying lightbulbs off and read in the gentle glow of a luminescent puppy.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090428/ap_on_re_as/as_skorea_cloned_dogs

PANDEMIC ALERT

2009-04-27T19:56:00.002-05:00

THE CENTERS FOR DISEASE CONTROL has issued a pandemic alert for an alarming illness spreading from poor parts of the world to America. The CDC urges Americans to take special precautions against the now prevalent bear flu.

Bear flu is spread by direct contact with bears and initially resembles the common cold. Common signs and symptoms of bear flu include:

(1) Runny nose
(2) Fatigue
(3) Giant mauling slash marks across the head and torso
(4) Absence of limbs/giant bite marks on limbs
(5) Diarrhea

The CDC encourages Americans to employ common safeguards against communicable disease. Bear flu can be prevented by washing hands, covering coughs, avoiding picnics, avoiding situations where you feel tempted to surprise and taunt baby bears, and disenfecting bloody wounds that bears can track by scent.

If you have been in contact with anyone showing symptoms of the bear flu, the Berenstein Bears, or Mexicans, the CDC encourages you to see your healthcare provider right away.

The Week in Review

2009-04-19T11:04:00.002-05:00

This week had me scanning want ads after I was informed the latest batch of shit I pulled may lead to my termination. Long story short, the bosses upstairs now know my name, and not in a good way. But on Friday the whole thing went away in a fantastically anticlimactic manner.

Immediate Boss: So the big bosses said never do it again.
Me: That's it?
Immediate Boss: What did you learn?
Me: That I'm invincible?

In other news, I literally stayed up all night reading a book I found too riveting to put down. This hasn't happened to me since seventh grade when I read the John Grisham book that made me want to be a lawyer/space warrior. (It also happened in law school, but definitely not because I found the reading material riveting). Suffice it to say, I love Chuck Palahniuk. I'd read fight club way back when the movie came out, so I don't know why it took me so long to read another of his works, but Choke totally encapsulates the "I'm fucked up, but not much happens until the plot twist" modern Hemingway style that I loved so much in Fight Club. Plus it was funny as hell...in a really dark way. You'd all benefit from reading it.

Finally, I recently found myself pondering whatever happened to Fergie? Not so many months ago the radio was flooded with "My Humps," "London Bridge," "G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S," or other incredibly shitty noise and I couldn't open up Yahoo without reading about how she pissed herself on stage or committed some other hilarious meth-induced antic. Is she dead? Hibernating? Spelunking an Afghani cave with Bin Laden? It's a serious question that absolutely deserves the pondering I've given it just now.

Power of the Press...to Fuck Itself

2009-03-30T19:23:00.002-05:00

So I managed to wrassle up enough reasonable doubt in a circus of a trial to secure acquittals on some pretty serious shit. However, despite the three rings that constituted this mess, the major controversy appeared after voir dire.

I have a habit of asking prospective jurors whether they've read any stories on the alleged offenses to be tried. Before asking this question, I happened to know that a particular smalltown rag, run by a college dropout and his unemployed janitor girlfriend, ran an extremely inflammatory story declaring my client's guilt from the criminal complaints and calling for his prolonged incarceration. I asked the entire panel whether anyone read this paper. Nobody raised their hands. Afterwards I commented that apparently not as many people read this newspaper as I thought. It elicited unexpected laughter.

That was litreally the last I said of this particular smalltown newspaper. Immediately after voir dire a struck juror confronted me and demanded apology for allegedly ripping on her husband's newspaper. I told her no apology was forthcoming and went to the vending machine. I selected Snickers. The trial commenced, I caught a few lucky breaks, and went home after two days of trial.

Fast forward to Monday. My inbox contained a letter from the "Editor in Chief" of said local paper. It accused me of extreme defamation that was "entirely inappropriate and unprofessional." It demanded that I schedule an immediate court hearing to issue an apology in open court, and write a letter to the editor of every newspaper sold or distributed in this county. All five of them. If i did not comply immediately, the Editor in Chief stated he would take legal action and make formal complaints to the circuit court of this county. My colleagues and I all laughed gregariously at his foolishness and lack of gold.

Going forward again to this afternoon, I happened to be in the same courthouse where all of this took place. The District Attorney informed me that the editor had visited and asked that "criminal slander" charges be filed against me. The "victim" also noticed the judge that I was unethical and should be banned from the practice of law. Hearing this information from the judge, I loudly proclaimed him to be pure grade douche, advised that he should kiss both my asscheeks and advised him to fuck his own mother. This was all hypothetical.

Turns out, the motherfucker was sitting in the lobby, about eight feet away. He heard every word.

So this brings me to the editorial portion of this report. What kind of shitty newsman would take such great offense to simple remarks in open court? And demand such severe vengeance? The First Amendment goes both ways and as it turns out, I too, have the right to speak freely. I in no way implied that his paper was bad during voir dire, but now that I know the reactions, I kind of wish I would have stood on a soapbox and wiped my ass with the latest edition. At least I would have gotten my money's worth.

Another Awkward Utah Moment

2009-03-23T21:10:00.003-05:00

So I started playing in a community band and in an effort to bond I've started to respond to people talking to me. Anyways, our resident expert was talking to one of the resident dumbasses (not me) and describing the difference between doowop and bebop.

I just couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut. Upon hearing "this is bebop style," I had to ask "what's Rocksteady style?"

"You mean like a steady rock beat?"

Utah: "No, I meant like Rocksteady and Bebop, from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

-Silence-

Utah: "You know, Shredder had a couple of mutant goons including a giant, talking, bipedal rhinoscerous and they'd terrorize the turtles from Dimension X"

-Turns away from Utah without response-

Doesn't anyone have respect for the technodrome these days??? That's some shameful shit.

Another year, another revelation

2009-03-20T18:42:00.003-05:00

So I usually take some time around my birthday to reflect on my life, goals, and gold. I try not to compare my life to anyone else's partly because I'm supposed to measure happiness on my own internal scale, but mostly because I'm just pathetic and comparing myself to others would be a complete validation of my self-deprication.

Joking aside, after careful consideration, I've determined at 28 years old, I'm a complete fucking child. I spend most of the day deliberating on burritos and simple ways to vampire-proof a home (hint: Garlic Paint). Clean clothes are heaped on my couch because I'm too lazy to hang them up. Just last week I was late to work because I wanted to finish watching Saved by the Bell. The last woman I dated passed on me for a douche with a green faux hawk. I've watched Rudy so many times I can tell you that the go-ahead touchdown against Georgia Tech should have been denied for holding.

So yeah, I revel in the trivial. And it's not like I'm ashamed of it. I'm just kind of ashamed that I'm not ashamed. I'm 28 years old and I haven't made a truly groundshaking leap in maturity since I was 12. Even as I type this realization, my feet are warmed by slippers that look like mallard ducks.

Every day people seem to hint at me that I should be concerned. My sister is captain of the cross country team and number one in her class, my brother is geting married, my closest friends excel in their careers and watch better movies than I do. Even the mention of someone else's successes seems like a tacit suggestion that if I don't get my shit together soon I'll end up being sixty years old, wearing a Stocco jersey, and still barking at dogs I see in parked cars. So yeah, I can't blame the archaeologist who digs me up five thousand years from now and ignores the study of my bones for lunch because, fuck it, I wasn't Spencer Pratt. (Speaking of which, to anyone reading this, please make sure that when I die, I'm laid to rest in a boat with my sword and cast over a waterfall like Boromir so those dickweeds can't put my corpse in a future museum of the lame).

In the end I guess our time on earth is ultimately measured by how we feel about it. However, I think I would feel pretty damn good about being remembered as a cross between Einstein, Jesus, and Blackbeard. Hopefully by the time I reach 29, I'll at least be able to compare my life and accomplishments to Air Bud. That dog played varsity football when he was only five years old. What the fuck have I ever done?

Psychoanalyze this [Points to Genitals]

2009-02-12T18:19:00.002-06:00

I tend to dream nearly every night and experience some very vivid dreams. But last night's was both incredibly badass but also totally clear in a subconscious way I haven't really figured out.

So I somehow ended up in England living there as a barrister with an awesome array of court wigs, including one that looked remarkably like Dennis Rodman's hair. However, the town I lived and practiced in was exactly the same as my home town in Wisconsin. Being in England, I managed to pick up a gorgeous British chick with great intelligence and personality. In the dream I fell in love with her and wanted to marry her, but couldn't take her back to the U.S. because she wasn't a citizen.

But alas, there was a solution to my quandry. The United States had just declared war on a rogue sect of zombies that occupied the west coast of the United States. All foreigners who fought in the U.S. effort to rid itself of zombies would be granted full citizenship. So my hot ass British woman who I was porking on a regular basis in this dream decided she, I, and her two best friends (also a couple of filthy foreigners) would join the fight against Zombies in the U.S.

Now, before we went into combat, we all made a pact that if one of us were bit, we'd kill the person before he or she became a zombie. Of course what the military didn't tell us was that the four of us would be the first people going into combat against an army of a million or so zombies. Of course, the initial rush of zombies was badass. I killed a lot of them with my machine gun, but we were soon overwhelmed and surrounded. Eventually my British woman's best friend, Zoey, was bit by a 'bie. I promptly shot her in the face and forgot about it. Eventually I ran out of bullets and picked up an old railroad spike and started shanking zombies until they backed the fuck off. I exited the war zone with woman and her last friend in tow.

Oops! Turns out I didn't actually see her friend get bit by a zombie and ended up shooting her anyways. But it didn't matter. She emerged unscathed with a bandaid on her head where I shot her. My woman gained citizenship and I asked the general what I would get since I was already a citizen. He paid me with a g-pack of cocaine. So I picked a corner and started dealing.

Anyone want to tell me what the fuck this means?

Something I Miss

2009-01-11T20:25:00.002-06:00

I had a hell of a lot of fun in college. In fact, if I were to take a PBT right now, I'm pretty certain that the administrator would detect alcohol leftover in my bloodstream from my senior year of college. But when I wasn't taking heroic chugs of alcohol mixed with lava, chopping down giant redwood trees with one fell swoop of my axe, and herding packs of rhinosceri atop my clydesdale horse, I was kind of a band geek.

It's not like it started in college...I was kind of a band geek from sixth grade on up. There's really no way to describe the level of comraderie and pride involved in mastering an instrument in the confines of an ensemble. Sure, there was alot of hard work...daily rehearsals, sectionals, individual practices, required lessons, but the result was awesome. My college is well known for being a prepping ground for professional musicians so I had to spend my first two years in the "lower ensembles" before I was finally called up to the show my junior year. I'll always remember that first rehearsal with the top ranked ensemble. Words can't describe the professionalism and pride involved in playing for what was essentially a professional touring ensemble. Although I am physically incapable of coming to tears (I was born with nail guns in the place where my tear ducts should be), there were several life-changing moments for me right there in that ensemble resulting simply from a perfect harmony of those 50 or so people coming together. There was a bond amongst us that couldn't possibly come from any other situation.

Nevertheless, after my last concert, I packed up my Freedom Horn (changed from "French" after 9/11) and haven't played since. I ended up kind of committed to this "law" thing and was barred from playing in the undergrad due to my status as a future esquire and undergrad woman hunter. The other week I heard a song on the radio that we had played in one of my first concerts. It brought the St. Paul Cathedral to its feet. I really hadn't realized how much I missed playing in an ensemble. The wave of nostalgia was both incredibly good and incredibly sad at the same time. I guess you could say after my final hurrah in the school's top ensemble, I was ushered out without any fanfare or thanks because I was on the wrong side of one of the biggest scandals the music department had ever seen (much more serious than the typical music department politics). Not that I did anything wrong, I just ended up in the shunned minority opinion. So rather than refelct on the incredible experiences, I told myself "fuck all yall muthafuckas," and walked out the door.

While I still believe I was right, now I know my focus was entirely on the wrong thing. Music can be an incredible bridge between all spheres of humanity. I still get goosebumps upon hearing an old instrumental version of "Nearer my God to Thee." Out of all the cynicism, tragedies and otherwise terrible things going on in the world, the fact that a few variations on pitch and tempo can still do that to a person is a fucking miracle. It may be a little late, but I thank God, John Cusack, or whatever party is responsible for every second I spent in that wind orchestra and hope everyone has the chance to feel that kind of connection at least once in their lives.

Anyone want to go see the orchestra? How about Five for Fighting?

Resolutions

2008-12-31T10:42:00.002-06:00

It's that time again and I thought I'd publicly post my New Year's Resolutions to give public pressure a chance to work in my favor.

1. Not get caught riding dirty.
2. End the year with a solid exit plan from the BRF.
3. Make all those who oppose me burn in the fires of a thousand suns.
4. Take a legitimate vacation.
5. Raise Maurice Gibb from the dead and reunite the Bee Gees in semi-zombie form.

All reasonable goals. We'll hold an evaluation about this time next year.

Possibly the worst parents on earth

2008-12-16T20:28:00.001-06:00

Don't get me wrong, I'm giving mad props to the terrible parenting skills we all saw at the Florida mini-golf course a few years ago, but this has to take the recent cake in terms of the baddest mother since shaft.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081217/ap_on_fe_st/odd_hitler_cake

What the muthafuck

2008-12-03T17:21:00.003-06:00

So anyone who knows me also recognizes the fact that I have a massive superiority complex. Basically, I think I'm superior to everything I see, hear, smell, touch, taste or otherwise sense. And that sense of accomplishment is not undeserved, afterall, I can finish ANY sentence you start from Point Break. However, even if I were to lower my view of the world to more objective standards, I still think I'd believe the girl who constructively dumped me's new suitor is a giant douche.

Anyways, I was at the gym working the pythons (it's commonly known that any client moving within ten feet of me is guilty of being a felon in constructive possession of my guns) when I saw her running on the treadmill. I approached her and made awkward small talk (but not about Matthew McConaughey) and then he stood beside her. Picture this: light green faux hawk and a fairy blue t-shirt that says "SOCIAL WORKER: BECAUSE I CARE." Oh, he also cut off the sleeves. Even if he hadn't honed in on the girl I thought I was appropriately macking, I would have wanted to kick his ass. Some of you may recall a previous post where I described her friend's explanation by proxy, that "she had found someone better." Of course it had to be someone that I would have randomly lifted over my head and broken his back over my knee.

This begs the question, am I really that terrible of a catch where I lose a woman in the BRF to THAT?? Muthafucka.

Eh

2008-11-20T21:00:00.003-06:00

Of all the things that could have landed me in deep shit, I was relatively surprised when the Judge threatened me with jail time for showing up five minutes late after a mini blizzard delayed my drive. I walk into the hearing, and he told the attorney on speaker phone that she had to hold on because the rude, unprofessional attorney that walked in had to explain why he shouldn't go to jail for a week. Then he demanded to know why I shouldn't be held in contempt. Although I was vastly tempted to answer by grabbing my genitals and shaking them vociferously, I actually managed to remain calm and explain in a condescending manner Wisconsin traffic dynamics during a snowstorm.

Of course, that's not all this was about. He's pissed because I've been substituing him like mad because he's a terrible judge. I've also been telling everyone I know that he's a terrible judge. And I took up a billboard ad proclaiming him to be a terrible judge in front of his house. But seriously, what kind of asshole takes that personally? I guess it's no big secret that I don't have a great rapport with people in general. However, even though I expect to be treated like a shithead ninety percent of the time, this was a LONG couple of weeks. In fact, I think I've missed Madison more in the last couple of weeks than I have the remainder of my time "away." Come to think of it, I'd almost rather be anywhere else at the moment. I occasionally run into/hear from/hear about/threaten to murder people from our law school class. Most of them went on to do some really amazing things and I can't help but feel insignificant in my efforts and ambitions (minus my normal levels of grandiosity). Maybe it's because I'm always melancholy this time of year, or maybe it's because the non-Stocco Badgers are sucking the Big Ten's Balls, but whatever it is, I'm in a shitty mood. Thank God tomorrow is Friday!

Next Post: I will describe the guy I saw that dressed exactly like Property Ladder's famed asshole flipper: Sergio, complete with dollar sign baseball cap cocked sideways.

Homeless acting all political-like

2008-11-04T20:57:00.003-06:00

So whatever happened to simple, reliable qualifications for voting? With all of the fraud and idiocy rampant in American voters nowadays, it strikes me as peculiar that we would flagrantly disregard the founding father's simple requirement that voters be property owners. Take, for instance, the fact that the homeless apparently came out in droves to vote. Now, what would have happened if all the homeli banded together and elected a homeless person president? Where would we send the winning notification? Certainly not to any "home." Then when it moved into the White House, the homeless would begin to have their way in this nation. Soon, we wouldn't even be able to tell who was a property owner and who was simply living in a home! Not in my country! I'm joining Daniel Baldwin in Canada.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/us_usa_politics_homeless

She deserved it.

2008-10-23T17:02:00.002-05:00

It's a line that every defense attorney gasps internally but fears to say: She deserved it. The fucking victim's rights law empowers every piece of shit white trash hillbilly as a demoralized victim fighting the system for their rights. And those rights invariably involve the highest of punishments for every dangerous "criminal" that has ever wronged them. I've always believed that it's very rare for one person to ever be completely responsible for any given wrong. This leads to the strong implication that the pure "victims" may have brought it on themselves. Sometimes, they even deserved it.

Of course, it's difficult to flat out say this. But anyone with a sense of fairness knows there is a difference between being blindsided by a mountain lion, or intentionally approaching said lion until it rips your throat out. It's natural to feel more sympathy for the blindsided octagenarian than the Johnny Utah who intentionally provokes a cougar until attacked.

I felt that this would be the case in my sentencing today. My 19 year old client with serious mental problems, two children, and a 9th grade education had plead to her first ever offense: substantial battery with use of a dangerous weapon. Basically, a fat, white, drug-dealing redneck woman was calling her at all hours of the night telling this "offensive racial slur" to get out of her town. When my client showed up to yell at her, she charged her and ended up getting clubbed in the head with a baseball bat. Had I been the district attorney, I would have congratulated my client for the excellent display of vigilante justice and called it a day. However, the victim wanted "justice."

So a PSI comes back recommending 3 years probation and 9 months jail. The D.A. caps his "maximum" at 9 months jail and recommends 6 months at the hearing. I recommend the same. The "victim" shows up and demands the max for this social parasite...and the judge gives it. Seven and a half years in prison. Her kids are orphaned, her future ruined, and the financial support she gave to her family is eliminated. All so a racist, small-time drug and stolen goods dealer could demand fair treatment from the system. When sentence was imposed, the "victim" gave a high-five to her baby daddy and made a smart-ass remark to me at the door to the court house. It took every ounce of my self-control not to curb stomp her. This was the only time my work made me physically sick and I think I'm going to remember this one for years to come. The fact of the matter is, this "victim" deserved it, but justice wasn't done.

Maybe I'll watch some Raising the Bar to see if Zack Morris offers me a situation to identify with.

I'll never truly understand

2008-10-07T20:55:00.003-05:00

I represent alot of people that the rest of us would call "losers." You know, unemployed criminals with poor grammar, poor hygeine, hideous deformities and an artificial gangster stroll. However, it rarely fails...they all have smoking hot girlfriends.

Fuck.

2008-10-05T11:03:00.002-05:00

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck.

I predicted it, but hoped like nothing else that I was wrong. Well, fuck. I was right. The fucking Wisinconsin Bager blew another one and now we're off to the land of unranked fuckdome and expectations of the fucking Motor City Bowl. After we blow it with Penn State next week, I'm going to have to resume the tradition of getting drunk before games, because they will be altogether too depressing to watch sober.

Am I overreacting?

2008-09-18T15:06:00.003-05:00

I called in sick to work after I woke up with a hangover without having had a drop to drink. After a day of feeling tremendously shitty I'm finally holding a little Powerade down. The next time I'm going to get whatever jailhouse virus is floating around, I hope it gives me some warning so I can go out and get hammered first. Afterall, if you're going to wake up with a hangover, you might as well get the advantage of being drunk first.

Physical illness aside, I'm here to mope about something else. For those of you not in the know, I thought that I had snagged myself a good catch in the BRF. She has no kids, no felony record, and no hilarious physical deformities. Out here, that's what we call a "keeper." Anyways, after a few stumbles (aka calling Matthew Mcconaughey a "badass" within minutes of meeting her), the fact that she continued accepting invitations to go out led me to believe that i was in the clear. But it appears God quoted Lee Corso when he said "Not so fast, my friend."

So as of last week, I got an abrupt call canceling our plans to go out. Apparently something had come up. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation, and one I accepted without question. However, when I suggested that we get together later, I recieved an email stating that "I can't, I've become REALLY busy for the next few months." The email also indicated her phone wasn't working. A phone call seeking clarification has not been returned.

Now, I know when I'm getting the brush-off. I do it all the time to people. "Sorry, I have a big trial." "I'm actually going to be busy helping orphans." And of course, my favorite: "Well, I'd love to, but I have to trek to Mordor to destroy the one true ring before it falls into the hands of the dark lord Sauron, you understand." However, at this point, I think I at least deserve an honest response. I find it awfully hard to believe that someone can become so immediately busy that contact will be impossible in the next three months. More difficult yet is the simultaneous failure of her telephone. I've run plenty of mental cross examinations on this ridiculous possibility over the past few days. The bottom line is: if she doesn't like me, she should let me know, rather than making me ponder whether this really IS a huge coincidence, which would effectively make me the asshole. The form of the notice really doesn't matter...whether it's telling me to fuck off, moving to Afghanistan, or threatening to push a teacup through my chest, Chronicles of Riddick style. It's the message that counts.

Next post: Why women hate Johnny Utah and prefer him to die alone in an Afghani homeless shelter.

UPDATE: It turns out that I am, in fact, the asshole in this scenario.

Goodbye, sweet TRL

2008-09-15T20:42:00.002-05:00

After ten years, MTV is pulling the plug on its own lifeless Terry Schiavo: Total Request Live, or TRL for those of you still down with the Hip-Hip lingo. Many of you remember the show that gave man-birth to mega-douche Carson Daly and featured the novel concept of a musical countdown punctuated by visits from popular artists and way too many commercials for any generation prior to X.

So what does this mean for America? More music on music television? The end of the Justin Timberlake era? Road Rules v. American Gladiators? Only time will tell. Until then, I'd like to sign off with some lyris that have sheparded me through the toughest of times, that I never would have known but for TRL:

"I did it all for the nookie, the nookie, the nookie, so you can take that cookie and stick it up your [crowd] aaaaa, stick it up your [crowd] aaaa, stick it up your [crowd] aaaa, stick it up your...[reprise]"

Godspeed.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/tv_total_request_live

Now I Really Need a Beer

2008-09-11T17:26:00.002-05:00

A little while back I represented this 18 year-old girl in a minor criminal damage case. I got her a pretty good deal and thought I'd never see her again. Her boyfriend at the time, a guy older than me (who probably had drugs in his system older than me) was barred from contacting her as a condition of her probation.

So when I heard that she had been revoked from probation for smoking THC and Meth while pregnant, I had to figure that he must have been involved. So artfully, I asked her "Is he the father?" To which she responded, "Oh no, I would have had an abortion if that was the case!" Breathing a sigh of relief, I went to look at my notes for sentencing. Then she added "You remember my cousin from my case? He's the dad."

I didn't know whether to laugh gregariously or vomit gregariously. Nevertheless, it may be time to move out of rural Wisconsin.

Fuck justice. And kangaroos.

2008-09-09T18:07:00.002-05:00

I think I posted awhile back on my client who was pulled over for having a license plate lamp that was too bright. Or maybe I just drunkenly talked about it. To myself. Anyways, at the last hearing the police officer behind this masterful stop didn't show at the last hearing and I moved for a warrant. After the judge and prosecutor basically called me an asshole in open court, a $150.00 warrant was issued for her appearance in court today.

I went into court with alot of pride, because the new female police officer who so cavalierly told the Clerk of Court that she didn't appear because "she sleeps during the day," had actually been hauled into jail by her chief and forced to post $150.00. However, she returned with a vengeance to my suppression motion hearing.

In one of my counties, there is no real rule of law. The judge spent a career drafting contracts and purchase agreements for a major furniture corporation (It rhymes with "trashley") and has no idea what the hell he's doing when it comes to criminal law. So naturally, he just listens to the State every time. So today, he began the hearing by asking if I filed a motion, then indicated to everyone that he hadn't read it. My entire case was based on a wonderful squad recording that happened to show the stop was complete horseshit covered in dogshit and sprinkled with tiny pellets of liceshit.

But alas, the local cop had an answer to my unreasonable attack. It turns out the squad video showed everything accurately EXCEPT for the license plate lamps, which was too dim for detection. The Judge, who is also a fan of hot women with large breasts said "well, I agree that the recording doesn't show a violation, but the Court is forced to accept the testimony of our local law enforcement." The officer finished off her performance by telling me my question was irrelevant and she would not answer. Staring at her titties, the Judge agreed and sustained an objection from the witness. And just like that, an OWI-3rd, dime bag, and a whole bunch of bail jumpings are suddenly admissible.

Oh, and when I referred to the violation as a "magical problem only the officer could see," I got threatened with thirty days of jail. Suffice it to say, it's on.

Wow

2008-09-04T20:29:00.002-05:00

So today I saw a Judge badger a new probation agent until she literally cried in open court simply because he was irritated at a shortened lunch. Then she sat in the courtroom for like five minutes and continued crying during sentencing. She left amid the comforting arms of the female clerk and court reporter.

Every male left in the room erupted in laughter.

My Almost Contempt Moment

2008-08-26T17:31:00.003-05:00

I have a real knack for pissing people off. However, I think I was born without that part of my brain that regulates whether or not I care. So anyways, I had a probation revocation hearing today with an unbelievable asshole ALJ. He and I get into it right away. Apparently he didn't like me appealing all of his decisions and writing the head of hearings and appeals to request a permanent substitution. Anyways, he overrules my objections on everything from speculation to privilege, and then sustains on a hearsay objection from the probation agent who doesn't know what the hell hearsay is. Plus, she's fat.

So after another heated argument, we go into closings, and he cuts me off, calling my "theory" that my client didn't assault his mother "ridiculous" and telling me to stop talking. He then goes into a rant about how he "peered into his soul and saw the evil inside." Now, I sometimes lose control, particularly when a condescending prick wrongs me in a public manner. So I turned to my client and told him that Jesus was back to judge the quick and the dead and that his number was up. Fucking ALJ slammed his hand on the desk, stopped the recorder, packed up his shit, and left.

I think I won that one.

Now THIS is BADASS!!!!!

2008-08-14T21:21:00.002-05:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080814/lf_nm_life/peru_dog_boxing_dc

It dons boxing gloves, throws punches, bites, jumps through rings of fire, and fights crime. Plus, it's a dog. I think I've said enough.

Fucked up shit

2008-08-05T17:07:00.003-05:00

Despite my raging against imm'grants, France, and invasions of my god-given right to carry a bazooka wherever I damn well please, I'm generally pretty liberal. For instance, I think Bush's vows to veto any bill authorizing stem cell research is an arcane denial of cures for millions of people who suffer from genetic diseases. I even support the cloning of human organs for transplant purposes, assuming the technology is available to everyone. However, after seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger's moving performance in the Seventh Day, I am one hundred percent opposed to the complete cloning of a living being.

When I got home from work, I was absolutely shocked to find that a woman paid $50,000.00 to clone her dead dog of two years five times over. A North Korean genetics firm handled the cloning procedure (as opposed to a master cloning race on the planet Kamino). The pet owner, who named all of the clone hounds after the original, Booger, stated "It is a miracle for me because I was able to smile again, laugh again and just feel alive again."

My initial assessment of this situation leads me to believe that the owner didn't need to sell her house, pay 50 grand and get five duplicate clones of an old dog. Had she come to me, I would have recommended a new dog and some prozac. For half the cost she spent on cloning. I understand the role of pets just like anyone. I just completed two and a half weeks of dogsitting my mighty beast companion, Taffy, and she is as much a part of the family as any of us. There is a bond between pets and humans that can never be captured in words. But any pet owner understands. However, part of the magic of any pet is being able to remember it's unique personality, quirks, and history as a special part of your life. I imagine that trying to duplicate the experience from a clone would feel cheap and unnatural. Much like your mom.

In any event, I have to draw the moral line at cloning something with consciousness (unless someone wants to clone me a Scarlett Johansen, like in The Island). It disturbs me on an old testament level. Nobody was meant to play god, yet creation of life is the only thing he holds as an exclusive. If we allow cloning of pets, then that beloved lost relative is undoubtedly next. Pretty fucking creepy, right? Like we're creating a life without a soul. Plus, once I kill K-Fed, he can just come back, stronger than before. It's an unacceptable risk and one I'm refusing to take.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080805/hl_nm/korea_clones_dc

What the hell??

2008-07-28T18:02:00.003-05:00

Okay, so I can understand it if the UW Law School dives into a tier-four shitter in terms of rankings, but how in the hell did the UW-Madison fall completely off the list of top twenty party schools!!??

Sounds like I need to pick up a six pack of Zima, grab my collection of Skee-Lo and revive the reputation of the once great party Titan.

When animals attack...Me

2008-07-22T21:22:00.003-05:00

We all knew this day would come. Another animal has acted overly aggressive towards me. While I do my laundry, I like to walk on a little path that goes through the woods around the river. It's really quite scenic. Today, I saw a porcupine about twenty feet off the path. Since I don't appreciate nature interrupting my view of the river, I stared it right in the eyes, just like animals like. I figured the porcupine would appreciate the friendly gesture and move on. Not so.

The first thing I'll always remember about this little encounter is that porcupines can shriek. The motherfucker let out a gutteral wail and charged me with all of its speed. I sat there just an instant, totally stunned out of my mind that this was happening, then booked it for the playground. Witnesses said that the 'pine pursued me until the border of the park, then stopped...a distance of a hundred feet or so. I'm calling this one a draw.

A Question

2008-07-15T20:38:00.002-05:00

So last night was one of those nights where I prayed for sleep and it wouldn't come. Then I prayed for an awesome fight between a sei-beached whale and a family of elephants. When that didn't come, I got up and flipped through late night/early morning TV.

Eventually I settled on the Michael J. Fox Classic: Teen Wolf. I've always connected with the central theme...Michael J. Fox is a teenager, and a werewolf. I think we can all get it: adolescence is difficult and we have to rectify the image we project with the person inside. Despite all the symbolism, I have but one question: How does being a werewolf make a person awesome at basketball?

Register This

2008-07-13T16:49:00.002-05:00

It appears to be wedding season once more and I've been summoned to witness the union of friends and families and of course pay for doing so. Just moments ago, I was seconds away from drop kicking my computer through a black hole into another universe. The old adage of "early bird gets the worm" proved correct as all the frugally responsible registry items were well accounted for. It seems my old high school friend, whom I've never known to cook, is requesting an omelette pan that costs almost $400.00.

Clearly, that's not going to fly with me. I have a system that I apply to weddings, and it's one that I generally will not deviate from. I take the fair market value of the booze I anticipate drinking, and divide it by two. That's the price of the gifts the bride and groom will be receiving. Now, of course if I'm in the wedding and have to rent a tux, stay in a hotel, or buy drinks/lapdances at a bachelor party, I also subtract that value from the total gift price. So for the instant wedding, they owe me about $500.00. You throw in the billable time I'm going to lose just to slam beers and do the chicken dance over an extended weekend and we're looking at another fifteen thousand or so in accounts receivable.

Therefore, unless they make me an omelette that turns into a 52 inch HDTV, cabinet full of premium booze, and a Jessica Biel programmed to live on Johnny Utah semen, it's not happening. Thank God Burger King does giftcards. I only wish they came in denominations smaller than five dollars.

Something Badass I'd like to see

2008-07-13T09:46:00.002-05:00

I just had this amazing dream. In it, a semi-beached whale was fighting a family of elephants. There was lightening all around. It was, in a single word, amazing.

A Comprehensive Review of the Bass

2008-06-28T21:23:00.005-05:00

The post below got me so pissed/pumped, I had to go old school and review the bass. Pictured below, is a bass.

FACTS

1. Bass come in several varieties...small mouth, large mouth, potty mouth, seabass, and endangered.

2. Bass tend to avoid modern lingo. You will seldom here a bass call something "dope" or "fly" or "crunk" Instead, they use the tongue of the old world and call that which is badass "basstastic."

3. Most bass women tend to be common skanks and will birth thousands of baby bass at the same time. Bass men seldom pay child support.

4. Bass reside in nests. Many bass nests are constructed from silt and stone...however wealthier bass will also install granite countertops in their homes.

5. Teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime. Teach a bass to fish and he will be one badass cannibal that rules the lake! Basstastic.

6. Bass are huge fans of Sam Jackson. In fact, before eating a worm many bass are known to quote: "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

7. Sometimes bass occasionally jump onto land, flop around, scream through their gills, and spike their fins. This has made at least one bass the most talented member of his boy band.

Lance Bass, the fish that could.

More assaults from the animal kingdom

2008-06-28T21:11:00.003-05:00

Surprisingly, the title of this post doesn't refer to an attack of a vertebrate against me. I did however, witness a giant bass repeatedly charge a diver hovering over its nest. It was truly one of the most unbelievable things I've ever seen...this fish had the gall to stand up to an adult male and ram directly into his face multiple times.

When we got above water he asked me, "don't you want to punch that fish?" Even though I wanted to punch it before it attacked anyone, I couldn't have agreed more. It's time to kick some bass ass.

Shaq Rap

2008-06-24T21:01:00.002-05:00

Sheriff Joe Arpaio, noted for his blatently unconstitutional treatment of prisoners, has decided to suspend the honorary deputization he gave Shaquille O'Neil for his offensive freestyle rap "dissing" Kobe Bryant and his failure to win the NBA playoffs.

While the majority of the discussion seems to be on Shaq's attitude toward his former teammate, nobody seems to be making the obvious objection: What is Shaq doing freestyle rapping? Maybe I'm the only purist here, but this gigantic retard is a far cry from the hardcore freestyle of Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. After listening to Shaq refraining time and again to "Kobe, tell me how my ass tastes," I have to rank him right up there with Mr. Federline in ability as a ghetto bard.

And to think, I used to play Shaq Fu on the Sega...

Motherfucking rat bastard of all motherfucking bastards

2008-06-19T17:06:00.002-05:00

My day started out well. I had a telephonic status conference with an ALJ. Of course he called in late, making me dangerously close to late for my departure time to court. As a result, I had to step on the pedal a little bit in order to make the first real court appearance on time. On the way to this particular county seat there is a section that goes from 55 mph to 35 mph in under a block. As I was doing about 65 in the 55 stretch, I didn't hit the brakes immediately at the change of speed limit.

Low and behold I get pulled over by some trooper hanging out. He's the state traffic officer who I work with regularly on criminal traffic cases. I expect a smirk and warning to slow down. Nope, the motherfucking rat bastard gives me a ticket for doing 60 in a 35 zone. For those of you unaware, this is a 4 point $200.00 plus ticket with a fifteen day license suspension, apparently effective immediately.

So why am I so pissed? There's a fucking code, and this jackass didn't honor it. When you work in the courthouse, you get a nod and a warning. Ticketing me makes this fucker no better than a canibal. Moreover, he's a particular jackass because he didn't alter the "radar reading" to prevent a suspension of my license. Since I'm apparently grounded for two weeks, I'm not sure how they plan on me being in court. I sure as shit won't be taking a taxi to my jury trial next week.

Mark my words: they will have to drag my bloody corpse to jail to take any fine money because I'm not paying one cent for this act of traitorous bastardom.

Sad song mix

2008-06-15T00:15:00.002-05:00

Normally I'm not the type of person into "sad" music, primarily because I lack that part of the brain that creates feelings. However, I've had a whole week of feeling incredibly guilty/responsible/pissed for what happened to the gentleman, infra. So in response, I've substituted my normal regime of speed metal, hardcore rap (Will Smith) and assorted disco for a more melancholy mix of tunes to match the predominant mood in the house of Utah. In no particular order, here's a list of what I consider to be some of the saddest music of our time.

1. Message -Bee Gees.
-Okay, everyone knew that at least one Bee Gees song would make the list. The content of the song (i.e. "One more hour and my life will be through") lends itself very well to a sense of desperation.

2. The Scientist - Coldplay.
-For the umpteenth time, I think Coldplay is a decent band.

3. Hiding Behind the Moon - Jeff Hanson.
-I'm not actually sure what this song is about since I haven't listened to the lyrics. I downloaded it post Nip/Tuck episode three...it was stuck in my head after the lesbian scene. But this guy has a falsetto that puts Barry Gibb himself to shame.

4. Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
-This one is on everyone's list.

5. Girl from the North Country - Bob Dylan
-Say what you want about this raspy alcoholic...the man knows self-pity.

6. The Freshman - Verve Pipe
-Something about abortion...wait shouldn't this be a happy tune for a high school freshman? Dodged that bullet!

7. The Luckiest - Ben Folds
-This one has some sentimental value to me...and as you know, I am one sentimental motherfucker (Go '91 Twins, Kirby Puckett rules!!) If you listen to the lyrics, it's actually pretty upbeat, but with a painful melody,

8. Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm - Crash Test Dummies
-Girl with birthmarks, Quakers, kid who was in a car accident that turned his hair from dark into a presumably gay-looking white; all with a clever yet tearful chorus you'd expect to hear played in those emotional moments when Ross and Rachel broke up or when Cavemen aired its final episode.

9. In a little while - U2
-It's a beautiful song; even though Bono is a giant douche.

10. All I Know - Art Garfunkel
-Arguably the lesser half of Simon and Garfunkel spun out a massive hit with this one that just so happens to have been played on the final episode of season 2 of Nip/Tuck right as the carver slashes up Christian. My eyes well up with liquid gunpowder-based fluid everytime I hear this song.

Since I only budgeted room for ten selections, eleventh place Pimp Juice - Nelly - will have to wait until my next bout of self-pity.

Lights, camera, Utah!

2008-06-09T19:03:00.004-05:00

Well, yours truly Johnny Utah made his TV debut today. Unfortunately it was as counsel to a man who just got a decade of prison. The charge? Being hispanic in a white county. Motherfucking Judge jumped the recommendations of two PSI's by seven years and the State by three. It was an honest to God disgrace...all the Judge and prosecutor could do was talk about how "he had no right to be on American roads." Nevermind the fact that the "good samaritan" he ran over was himself trying to cover up the OWI accident of his son, who happened to have a blood alcohol level twice that of my client. Nevermind the fact that my client has never had so much as a parking ticket in his life and was the goddamn citizen of the year for his kindness and generosity. Nevermind the fact that the "victim" set up a scene so reckless that the State Trooper accident investigator said it was "so reckless, any driver, intoxicated or not could have been involved." Nope, he got a sentence harsher than an OWI drag racer who killed three people and much harsher than the Clerk of Court's son who killed one and had a BAC of .4 (he got a year of jail).

It's days like this where I lose faith in the legal system and myself. I had the fate of a good man in my hands and in one way or another I failed him. Now his family is without a provider and the community as a whole is poorer. But the Judge will win another election amid media heat that he's soft on drunk drivers and "illegals." I almost got punched in the face for my honest yet insensitive comments to the "victim's" family in the parking lot, but I feel better at this point. The loyalty to my client is cemented for one reason or another and for some sickening reason I feel good about emotionally scarring those bastards and their righteous indignation. Lucky they caught me on camera before the incident...my hair was a little messed up afterwards.

Still, I looked damn good on camera.

I have a way with children

2008-06-05T16:36:00.002-05:00

I've long held the belief that children are little more than retarded dogs. With dogs, you can train them where to shit in a matter of weeks, keep them quiet with a single glare, feed them once a day and in return, they'll galdly be a playful companion, fetch your paper and maim your homeless. Not so with children.

My complex is swarming with all sorts of kids, many of them well under five years old. Since I live in an apartment with poor/cheap people (the latter being me), the majority of the children belong to the indigent. It's a commonly known fact that poor people are among the most fertile beings on the planet and shoot out more kids than they have room for. Thus, once they become mobile, the children are turned loose into the parking lot, streets, hallways and my balcony to run unsupervised so the primary living unit has more room for birthing the next batch of bastards.

I've come pretty close to accidentally murdering several of these children as they dart about the parking lot, circling vehicles on their bikes like a manatee circling a cruise ship hoping to get hit for liability reasons. Not too long ago i told one particularly corpulant birthing machine that she ought to do some fucking parenting before her daughter got her face plastered across my tires. She threatened to call the police. I later spied the same kid on my balcony spreading the burnt charcoal from my grill all over the deck.

So when I pulled into my parking space and the same three year old kid jumped unsupervised directly in front of my car, I had had enough. Shaking off the sudden surge of adrenalien and half bladder of urine that escaped in the near-manslaughter event, I got out and yelled at the kid to stay out of the parking lot. She looked at me and said "you're not the boss of me," stuck out her tongue, and resumed drawing trees with chalk in my parking stall. Now normally, I would be happy to chop off the tongue of this insolent brat and leave it for a wild boar. However, I just so happened to have some gruesome photos from an OWI homicide in my briefcase. Like that Chinaman in Tiennemen Square, the toddler refused to move from my spot and continued to play with chalk so that I couldn't get my car all the way in. I cautiously displayed a photo of a crushed man who had been killed six different ways by a car. Needless to say, it wasn't all that pleasing to the toddler to see the headless torso on the side of the road. I sent her off with the admonishment never to sit in my parking spot again.

I'm not completely sure that I'm going to hell yet, so maybe I should open up a tough-love daycare center in my building. Of course, I'd have to accept payment in the only commodity poor mothers have to offer: placenta. At this point, I'll have to pass.

The Monster in the Closet

2008-05-30T17:37:00.003-05:00

It seems like we all have a reason to check our closets for monsters before going to sleep again. Japanese police arrested a homeless woman for living in a man's closet for over a year. Apparently, she had moved a mattress into the mans closet and lived undetected until the homeowner installed security cameras to monitor the suspicious loss of food.

R. Kelly be damned, there's a new threat in the closet.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080530/ap_on_re_as/japan_closet_woman

Another Awkward Utah Moment

2008-05-08T18:27:00.003-05:00

I haven't been able to update in awhile...mainly because I've become lazy as hell. However, in the spirit of easing back into the blog world, I'll share an awkward exchange I had today.

Coworker: So how were things with that new clerk?

Utah: I accidentally compared her to Hitler.

I think the moral of the story is you should never say the Packers suck, unless you want me to equate you with genocide.

If my change could talk

2008-03-30T19:41:00.003-05:00

I made my first trip to the new fast food restaurant in the BRF the other day: Culvers. I've always like Culvers, even knowing that it is ten times more likely to cause massive heart failure than a prison shank to the ventrical. I paid with cash (a rarity for me) and the cash register discharged my change down a plastic slide.

I immediately noticed that something was amiss when I didn't see the honest faces of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Rumsfeld staring at me from the change in my hand. Some son of a bitch loaded the register with Canadian change. Nevertheless, I decided not to make waves and shamefully left the Culvers with my American food and foreign change.

However today I took a closer look at the change and discovered one of the pennies was actually an American penny from 1941 with the wheat leaves on back. As I palmed the piece of copper with 67 years of decay, I couldn't help but think of all the hands it changed, and how the holders of this penny must have lived. I also wondered how many of the prior possessors of this coin washed their hands.

It really is amazing. This coin was probably minted before the attack on Pearl Harbor. Hell, it may have belonged to a soldier who used it to buy a soda at the drug store before reporting to basic. People were using this penny to pay for goods during the cold war, Watergate, the moon landing and the rise of the Bee Gees. It may have seen the insides of cash registers everywhere from the halls of Congress to NASCAR facilities in the South.

I have to wonder where else it will travel before succumbing to a heating bin at the Denver mint. In all likelihood, the penny will find its way to my change bin and eventually my bank. Will I be the last holder of all this history? It's pretty cool to ponder. Will someone else 67 years from now get this penny in their change and wonder if I saw the great chicken migration of 2011, the reign of Pope Ronald Mexico I, or the Presidency of Air Bud, and his son Air W. Bud?

The only story this penny won't tell is how it was once given in an act of benevolence to a homeless guy.

Why the early 90's were almost as bad as the 80's

2008-03-10T18:06:00.002-05:00

This title has nothing to do with Saved by the Bell...jut their perception of what was cool.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSF1brtyHdA

Quasi Point Break News

2008-03-05T17:11:00.002-06:00

Patrick Swayze, the actor who portrayed Bodhi in Point Break was reportedly diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Some news sources (the National Enquirer and the Superficial) are reporting that the Bodhizafta has but five weeks to live.

I certainly hope the reports are exaggerated...Bodhi deserves an honorable, badass death. This is how I see his real death going down: Bodhi and Johnny Utah meet at an Australian beach during the 50-year storm. Huge tsunamis are crashing down all around them. Then Utah walks up behind Bodhi and throws a Ronald Reagan mask on the waves beside him and asks "lose something, bra?" The two proceed to fight, with Utah handcuffing himself to Bodhi in the waves. Upon seeing the incoming Australian SWAT team ready to mop up on the arrest, Utah lets Bodhi go for one last go at the waves. Bodhi paddles out on his surfboard and the flabbergasted Australian SWAT team informs Utah that they'll get him when he comes back in. Utah nonchalantly says, "he's not coming back," as a huge tsunami envelopes Bodhi and carries him to the afterlife. Utah then tosses his FBI badge in the ocean and the sounds of Ratt serenade and comfort us in the death of surfing/bank robbing guru Bodhi.

But that's just how I imagine his death. If the prognosis is indeed true, in the words of Special Agent Utah: "Hey Bodhi, Vaya con dios."

Bodhi: "Yo Johnny, I'll see you in the next life!"

Something that happened

2008-03-03T16:43:00.003-06:00

I woke up at around 6 this morning for work and heard the sounds of multiple police radios squawking in my hallway. Initially I prepared to flush my stash of crystal down the toilet and double fist tommy guns to greet the officers whom I assumed were serving an arrest warrant for my drug palace/emporium. However, when the dogs didn't immediately storm through the door, I went to blend a breakfast smoothie instead.

I didn't run into any police officers on my way to work and didn't think twice about it. However, over lunch, the District Attorney informed me that my neighbor had show himself with a shotgun on his balcony. Upon returning home, sure enough, there was evidence of seeping blood and guts on his balcony and the one below it. He was dead, and apparently I slept through the blast of a 10 gauge twelve feet feet from my own head.

I didn't know the guy, although I bitched about him parking in my spot now and then. It never fails to amaze me that a person would choose to end his own life rather than work through whatever problems he was having. I guess this statement comes with the quasi-pretentious assumption that I could overcome any problem life dealt me. However, regardless of your own woes, the amazing thing about personal tragedies is that opportunity to begin life completely fresh, to start over in every capacity despite the magnitude of a given loss. I wish someone had been there to assure my neighbor of this certainty, that there was an alternative. Instead he took his gift of life and threw it away. I didn't know the guy but I'm sad for him nevertheless.

My thoughts today

2008-02-26T18:14:00.002-06:00

Holy crap! It seems that the U.S. government is now hunting down all of the terrorists in the World...of Warcraft. I'm not shitting you, the hunt for Al Qaeda has now made it's way to the Un Goro crater created by a level 70 747 crashing into an alliance sky tower. From the plains of Mulgore to the shores of Grom Gol, no terrorist hiding in the World of Warcraft will be safe. I may have to send in my level 54 pet cougar to the World of Iraq and kick some Lich Qaeda King ass.

http://blog.wired.com/27bstroke6/2008/02/nations-spies-w.html

In other news, I discovered a badass music video of Point Break scenes set to the ending song "Nobody Rides for Free" by the 80's powerhouse: Ratt. Suffice it to say, this video is better than anything anyone has ever done in their lives.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMvyHPr2py0

Pimped out ride (Chelsea Clinton)

2008-02-08T22:12:00.000-06:00

So apparently one of the top stories in the political arena this moment is the "deplorable" suggestion that the Clinton campaign "pimped out" Chelsea Clinton by having her call celebrities and superdelegates for her mother's campaign. Clinton's campaign manager described the remark as "beneath contempt" and MSNBC has temporarily suspended the anchor, David Shuster.

Maybe I'm not getting the whole story here, but I don't see how this remark was bad at all. Sure, if the full text of the remark was that Chelsea Clinton had been pimped out by calling celebrities and superdelegates..."and then allowing them to run a train on her for political support," I would understand the outrage. However, it seems to me that Shuster simply used outdated ghetto slang to suggest what everybody already knows: Hillary Clinton is a holier than thou political whore.

The suggestion that "pimped out" means anything other than "used for campaign purposes" insults the intelligence of every American with the IQ of retard on up. First off, with her money, if Hillary Clinton wanted to garner support through sexual favors, she could hire someone way better looking than Chelsea Clinton. (However, the picture used in the Yahoo article makes her look much better than the trained St. Bernard with alopecia I remember from the 90's). Second, if somebody called me pimped out, I would be like "Hellz yes, biatch." Hillary's people need to wake the fuck up and realize that an outraged reaction to stupid shit like this will only draw greater ire to the woman many of us have already pledged never to vote for. If this is the kind of reaction we can expect from her as a President, I'm certain that China will be nuked the second they send over a bad batch of novelty rubber vomit.

So in sum, if X to the Z Xzibit wants to put some some loud subwoofers, flatscreen TV's and diamond-studded rims on Chelsea Clinton, I'd tell him there's nothing wrong with being pimped out.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080209/ap_on_el_pr/msnbc_clinton

The magic diet

2008-01-06T20:30:00.000-06:00

Anyone ever get one of those cravings that cannot be quenched? I had one this weekend. Normally, my cravings are limited to gambling and bloodshed. However, starting Friday night, I was faced with an insatiable desire for tuna fish. Thus began my four trips to Subway this weekend.

I don't know whether I was missing some magic mineral best found in this ocean-dwelling creature, or if God was instructing me to kill the tuna at the fastest rate possible in order to prevent the apocalypse. At this rate, both are equally likely. But how, you may ask, did I go to subway so many times in such a short time span without drawing ridicule from the Subway employees? Simple, in a town without a one-day dry cleaner, "sit-down" restaurant, or cell-phone tower, we have THREE SUBWAYS. So it was easy.

So yeah, that was my weekend. 2008 is progressing nicely...

Greatest Moment of the Year

2007-12-17T20:22:00.000-06:00

Right at this moment, we're all looking at cinematic history. Coming back to cinema, the original cast of The Fast and the Furious, in an all NEW badass movie that will prove to be faster and more furious than all predecessors.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1013752/

I just shattered my femur thinking about it.

I needed a win

2007-12-17T16:36:00.000-06:00

I had this client, a kid with a plethora of serious charges, which I've systematically had dismissed over the past few months with various motions. All that remained was a relatively serious sex felony that I had arranged to resolve with no sex offender registration and expungement. I was really patting myself on the back for a job well done when I got the call.

Some lady called asking for me and said she was with local private bigshot lawyer whom had been hired to represent my client because I "was not doing the job well enough for them." I shit you not, this fucking secretary began the call by calling me inadequate. Then she mentioned his court appearance on Wednesday and told me to file a motion for continuance so local bigshot could have time to prepare. I calmly informed her that they could file their own fucking motions and I would not be doing their bitchwork for them.

Minutes later, the bigshot himself called. He referred to me as "son" and asked for my files. At this point, I was pumped/pissed, so I enjoyed telling him no, not without a waiver of confidentiality form and 25 cents per page (with hundreds of pages). He told me that the firing stemmed from "not doing well enough on the case." As he was hanging up, he informed me that my clients would like their sixty dollar PD fee back. My response was that I had thirty or so hours logged and they had lost any right to that money.

So then the kid's bitchy mother called and screamed at me about being a shitty lawyer, you know, since I couldn't get his sexual assault dismissed. She threatened to call the judge, the state bar, the police, and everyone else because I was trying to destroy his life. I invited her to go ahead with the plan, said I'll be in Court for his next hearing, and won't be able to help when shithead fucks up the deal I worked out. My boss got the next call and informed them that I wasn't some kid behind the McDonald's counter, so calling the boss wasn't going to help.

Yes, I've been fired before, but frankly, I was glad to be rid of those clients. I was honestly shocked to get fired on this one. To my knowledge, I'd been doing a stellar job, but for some reason they lost faith. It's hard not to take personally, mainly because I have an ego the size of Jupiter, but also because the termination must mean in some sense that I let the little shit down. I was all ready for a "win" and now the new dickweed lawyer will take credit for my work and I'll be the asshole. In retribution I'm going to have to take the hearts of seven newborn rams.

Another Saturday

2007-12-15T17:40:00.000-06:00

I just watched the movie Air Bud: Golden Receiver, and would like to address the following concerns I had during an otherwise plausible movie:

1. Buddy the golden retriever did not attend Wolverine Junior High School, therefore he was probably ineligible to compete in that league.

2. When Buddy ran out onto the field to catch the hail mary, it should not have resulted in a touchdown, since the Wolverines had too many players on the field.

3. It's highly unlikely that even the hardest of tackles would end up in flattening a person completely into the ground.

4. Dogcatchers should not need an undercover division with an ice cream truck for stakeouts since dogs cannot read or otherwise identify dogcatching vehicles.

5. Although Buddy was great at receiving the long pass, it seems that he would be a poor crossing route or post receiver since he's about two feet tall.

6. If someone ever tackled that dog, he would probably die.

7. Buddy was the star of that team, yet he didn't end up nailing a single cheerleader.

Overall, Air Bud: Golden Receiver made me a better man. Inside that golden retriever was the heart of an American, and possibly performance enhancing drugs. It's too bad that Buddy was eventually exposed for running an illegal human fighting kennel out of his Virginia property and sentenced to federal prison.

A Short List of People With Integrity

2007-12-12T16:54:00.000-06:00

1. Vin Diesel
2. Duke Ellington
3. Mother Theresa
4. Balto, the sled dog that saved those Alaskan kids from some disease
5. This guy:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071212/ap_on_re_eu/airport_vodka

Sometimes you have to go all out and just chug whatever is left in the bottle.

Wildcat!

2007-11-29T16:48:00.000-06:00

It appears that beach cats aren't the only treacherous brand of feline roaming the American countryside. This morning I left for work approximately forty-five minutes before my first hearing. I stopped at the intersection from my parking lot to turn onto the road and saw that traffic was gridlocked. A quick scan uncovered the reason for the delay: A tail-less kitten was sitting in the middle of the intersection and approaching various cars.

After a wait of about three minutes, the junior cat left the road and sauntered directly under my car. I knew I couldn't run the bastard over with every stopped motorist pointing under my car, so I exited. Sure enough, the kitten was lying in wait under my car, slowly walked out, and began meowing at me like it owned the place. Immediately, I flashed the kitten my gang sign to let it know that it was on my turf.

Wouldn't you know it, I was stupid enough to leave my car door open and the bastard jumped inside and sat on the passenger seat! At this point, I wasn't entirely sure on how to proceed. If I didn't remove it, the cat would think that I was some scum of the earth taxi driver. However, if I did try to remove the wild animal, it was liable to bite my face off. Eventually I made the decision that my dignity was more important than my face. Damnit, I'm an attorney and that wildcat was going to respect my authority.

I removed the kitten with remarkable ease. However, it just sat there, looking at me and meowing. I made some cat noises with my mouth and the motherfucker followed me everywhere in the parking lot. A plan slowly formed and I allowed the kiten to follow me to the far end of the parking lot, then I sprinted back to my car, jumped inside and prepared to do a victorious burnout. However, the cat darted under my vehicle before I could put the car into drive. I tried this plan a couple more times without success. For a tiny animal, that kitten is one fast beast of prey.

Several minutes passed and the situation was getting ridiculous. I lured the kitten over to the woods near my house. Petting it, the kitten purred. I then gently picked it up, and hurled it down an incline into the woods. Yes, I know, one who hurls small animals into the woods is normally a bad person, but remember, cats always land on their feet. This kitten apparently had the instinct and landed A-OK, but still bolted up the hill towards me. However, the incline thwarted the kitten's previous agility and allowed me to make my escape from the parking lot. As I escaped at a rather high speed, I saw the kitten chasing after my car.

Had this been a Beverly Cleary book, I would have been obligated to adopt the wildcat. Unfortunately for this homeless feline, this is AMERICA, and no creature, plant, rock, or superintelligent computer-being has the right to beg for handouts. I was late to court but didn't have the nerve to tell the judge that my tardiness stemmed from tossing a kitten off a hill. I blamed traffic.

Things I'm Thankful For

2007-11-20T18:36:00.000-06:00

All too often I fall into the "glass half empty" mold when things aren't going precisely how I planned them. When I was ten, I envisioned my life at 26...I was an astronaut/spy/crimefighter with seven dogs, a flying car and played in the NHL as a side gig. When I was twelve, my vision of life at 26 remained the same, with the addition of a super hot girlfriend. When I was five, I always thought I would grow up and transform into a van.

Life doesn't always turn out like we planned and sometimes we resent the fact that all of our dreams haven't come true. Playing into this resentment leads to the pessimism that occasionally afflicts us all. But in these moments, it's important to remember that sometimes chasing the dream is as important as having it. By having dreams to chase, we forget the foundations that gives our imagination the platform to form the dreams in the first place.

For instance, without food, I would be sitting outside of the Qdoba all day wishing for a burrito. But "wishing" is not dreaming, and although the sweet taste of queso sauce on my palate has the potential to turn the holocaust into a cheerful misunderstanding, it would not help me step outside the boundaries of basic needs and allow true human dreaming to unfold. Because of things like Qdoba, Bud Light, and air, I can concentrate on greater goals...like my letter campaign to Rob Cohen to create xXx Three: State of your mom.

In all seriousness, the "real world" has very recently exposed me to a whole class of people who couldn't take care of their basic needs and really live life without dreams. They seem empty from whatever is missing...food, care, crack. I can't imagine what it's like to live like that, so in comparison, I feel thankful. Maybe it's the thought of all the food I'm about to ingest, or the fact that I will be able to feed my dog more than most homeli receive, or the fact that Jesus visited me in a vision and told me to make a mental list of all the things I'm thankful for, but I feel like I have to share some of the most important on the internet.

1. Money. Damn, it's nice to have cash coming in for once. I can go to Taco John's without regret and buy a DVD with three Vin Diesel movies on one disc. Some people say money can't buy you happiness, but those people don't have the option of eating Hardees once a week.

2. That line from Dr. Dre's song Let's get high, that states "Yeah, I just took some ecstasy, ain't no telling what the side effects could be, all these fine bitches equals sex to me, plus I got this bad bitch laying next to me." Much like the old folk song that cured Holden Caufield in Catcher in the Rye, this line caught me at a moment of self-pity and helped define my life. From the first time I heard this song, I wanted nothing more than to become an awesome drug dealer that mistreats women.

3. A license to practice law. Wow, did I ever fool some chump at the Board of Bar Examiners when they gave me a license to do immeasurable harm. All I do during the day is daydream of ways to transform the man-eating pigs in Hannibal into brief form. So far, all I've managed to do is capture the smarmy feeling Jared projects in his Subway commercials to oppose a warrantless search. I also included a footnote citing "Goddamnit! I am sick and tired of all these futherfucking snakes, on my motherfucking plane!" No wonder I keep losing...

4. The Big Ten Network. The mere thought of this infuriating arrangement that robs me of half the Badger games makes me smile. No matter how poorly I behave, I know that someone will always hate the assholes responsible for this idea more than me.

5. World Peace.

So in the spirit of Charlie Brown, Happy Thanksgiving.

What's New in the World

2007-11-14T08:47:00.001-06:00

I know, it's been a while. The lack of new posts is complicated by the new lack of a computer. That's right, my laptop finally died. I fully intend to get a desktop, but I'm lazy and it could take awhile. Delivery is also complicated, since I don't trust my neighbors not to steal it if it's delivered in my absence. I've been down lately because the novelty of my transition has worn off. I live in a peaceful town, but there's nothing to do, few people my own age (that aren't clients) and no Qdoba. It's safe to say I miss living in a city and am beginning to question this move. However, on the up side, I'm getting alot of experience (XP) in real world legal matters that will hopefully serve me well should I choose to go elsewhere.

On the upside, Nip/Tuck has been fantastic this season. As some of you may recall, I had my doubts about the move from Miami to L.A., but this season has come through once again. What other show can start an episode with the girlfriend crapping her bathing suit in a hottub and throw in a lesbian ex-wife, ex-scientologist drug addict son and wife (who dated both of her current husband's fathers), sex-crazed quasi-stepdaughter, and decisions to pick up a side business of man-whoring while not performing plastic surgery. Christian is becoming more of an asshole, which is entertaining, and Sean is finally getting some of the success and recognition he deserves, although I think he's going to fall big time. Here's how I see it going down: (1) Christian informs Sean that he slept with (again) Sean's ex-wife, (2) Sean's relationship with the television star is compromised in some fashion, most likely infidelity on his part, or the fact that she crapped her pants in the hottub (3) Sean sleeps with his new quasi stepdaughter, (4) Sean discovers Matt and Kimber's drug use and makes poor decisions on how to intervene, further destroying their lives, (5) Sean turns to help from the dominatrix he met, (6) McNamara/Troy becomes an unpleasant work environment, mediated by the smooth temper of Liz.

Suffice it to say, Nip/Tuck is a fantastic show. Rosie O'Donnel reprises her role of Dawn Budge next week in which her face was ripped up by an eagle. Some may recall that she paid Christian $100,000 to do her last year after they reattached a synthetic ear grown on the back of a mouse. Dawn was "ear-jacked" last season when a theif on a motorcycle rode by her and cut her ear off to get a valuable diamond earring. Portia de Rossi, quite possibly the hottest lesbian on TV, plays a lesbian companion to the promiscuous Julia, who did Sean, Christian, the Carver, and Jude. It's quite possible that Annie's father is actually a tyrannasaurus rex. My instincts tell me that Gina Russo will be back with a worse case of AIDS, and I'm hoping for the return of Dr. Merrill Bobolit, whose addiction to "the tank" (nitrous oxide) landed him in prison and made him the bitch of Nip/Tuck supervillain Escobar Gallardo. Unfortunately, Escobar won't be returning, except in dream sequences, since the doctors tied hams to his corpse and fed it to alligators last season.

Perhaps the most disappointing part of this season is the return of Matt. He's always been a downer on the show, and his dumbassedry is one of the more unrealistic parts of the series. In a short period of time, he was party to the crime of reckless injury, became involved with a transsexual, committed battery against another transsexual, became a scientologist, married the ex-girlfriend of his biological and legal fathers, been involved with a white supremicist, been party to a crime to the murder of her father, and recently blew $250,000 on meth. The fact that he was a 28 year old guy trying to play a 16 year old didn't help much either.

Since I've managed to waste an hour of my workday thinking about how awesome Nip/Tuck is, I suppose I should return to work.

Raging against various machini

2007-10-17T16:45:00.000-05:00

It's been a little while since I've had a legitimate rant unrelated to fighting wild animals or Brittney Spears rap, so here it goes: Why Probation Revocations are a Gigantic Crock of Shit.

Out of all the areas of criminal law I practice, nothing pisses me off to the extent of a probation revocation. In a system that is supposed to be based on fairness, presumption of innocence, and access to the justice system, probationers facing time after revocation have nothing resembling these ideals. It starts with the agents and their god-like power to revoke for any "rule violation" they see fit. Rule #1 for all people supervised in the State of Wisconsin is that a probationer shall not "engage in conduct that doesn't benefit the goals of rehabilitation." If you're thinking this rule can apply to any behavior at all, then you are indeed correct. Here's a short list of "violations" amounting to revocation in my fine counties: (1) "antogonizing" a neighbor's dog by barking at it, (2) using profanity, (3) Failing to walk 29 miles to the probation office after a vehicle breakdown, (4) kicking dirt on the fender of another's car, (5) drinking one beer while on probation for an unrelated financial crime. The vagueness factor becomes exponential when agents are allowed to contribute their own rules. In a recent case, this included banishment from the entire state of Wisconsin except a town of 1200 for calling his mother a "fucking bitch." His agent reasoned that this would help "focus a job search." Guess what, he was revoked for remaining unemployed.

The unlimited power serves to enable agents and the Supervisor/Lord of the probation feifdom to do whatever they want. So who are these agents? Surely people trained in social services, willing to provide compassionate, objective, and helpful services in the interests of rehabilitation? Not quite...they tend to be people who went to police academy and failed to get jobs as cops. Security Guards fall into the same personality category. In our case, the office is overloaded with younger women who have never been drunk, can't stand the sight of blood, and have no clue whatsoever on what the real world is like. Now, I'm not bashing women agents per se. I happen to love women. It's just that these women are sheltered bitches who assume disorderly conduct is an execution-worthy offense that requires forty hours a week supervision in order to prevent the rise of the next Hitler. Plus, they're unattractive.

So when the agent makes the decision to revoke a probationer, they approach them without counsel and ask them to revoke themselves without a hearing. Afterall, it's easier that way. If the probationer refuses, they have to wait an average of 65 days for a hearing. 65 days in jail without Huber privileges, plus another thirty or so for a written decision, then time spent waiting for sentencing after revocation. Nevermind the fact that Wisconsin law requires a hearing within fifty days...the Department of Hearings and Appeal claims that statutory law does not apply to administrative procedures. But at least the wait is worth it for a fair hearing, right?

Define "fair." Well, fair is a hearing with unlimited hearsay admissibility against your client in which the Department can prove by a preponderance that some rule violation occurred in front of an Administrative Law Judge. Nevermind technicalities like juries, rules of evidence, or motion practice. Afterall, suppressed evidence, and jury acquittals are still admissible to fuck a client over. The jury acquitted you of the alleged violation? Well, fuck it, we're just going to presume you're guilty and revoke you in any case. You want to appeal? Well, you can write a letter to the Department of Hearings and Appeals, which, by the way, is not bound by Wisconsin statutory law binding the Department of Corrections. Should you decide to complain that judges didn't follow Wisconsin code requiring them to weigh credibility, don't worry, as long as the administrator "thinks" the judge thought about credibility, it's all good. If your administrative appeal is rejected, you're entitled to an entirely discretionary, entirely paper judicial review, which statutorily denies briefing or oral argument.

You might assume that a recent bad experience led me to this rant. Well, you're right. I just had a client revoked for entirely free speech that his agent found offensive and sent off to serve his three year imposed and stayed sentence. The "real" Judge dismissed the agent's identical criminal complaint on the subject because, as it turns out, the First Amendment allows people to use profanity. As a matter of fact, I regularly use the same language at the bar, in front of friends, and on this blog. As the ALJ began describing our case as "meritless," I turned to my client and whispered "This is ridiculous." Enraged, the ALJ asked me what I had just said. I stated: "I said, 'This is ridiculous,' Judge." He told me I was free to appeal his decision, like the "others I lost on." My mind flashed red as I contemplated whether it was time to be disbarred for throwing a javelin through a judge's chest.

Of course, I plan on appealing it, but I've never won one of these. The sad fact is, this dipshit appears within his rights to revoke my client. Increasing supervision caseloads and actuarial tables have effectively supplanted any chance of the fair shot people on probation deserve. This is one case where I've lost complete faith in the justice system, and I don't blame my clients for doing the same. It would be easier for people to become outraged at this facial injustice if probationers were all a bunch of cute puppies carrying fruit baskets, but that's not the case. They're criminals, so everyone acquiesces and assumes they got what was coming to them.

I remember my old mentor telling me about the turning point in his legal career...the day he decided to stop being nice, said "fuck it," and went in every day from then on as a person who didn't care about offending anyone, so long as he was a zealous advocate. Well, I passed the point of saying "fuck it," but now the rage has been elevated to a whole new level. I feel my newly ordained conquest can best be described by the following exchange from Point Break:

Angelo Pappas: "So that's it? You want to nail the bank robbers and be a big hero?"
Johnny Utah (me): "Definitely."

In other news, I dreamt that a cat was following me around and attacking whenever I turned my back.

Go away, Monkey

2007-10-03T19:20:00.000-05:00

As some of you know, I tend to love things that others consider...bad. So I figured that I would love the show "Cavemen," styled after the Geico commercials. I gave it five minutes of my life. I'd do anything to get those minutes back.

MAN, was that show fucking terrible. A show only has a few minutes to get your attention for the length of the series. Seinfeld began by talking about the useless button on the top of a shirt, the O.C. featured Ryan Atwood aiding and abetting a car theft only to end up in juvie, and Nip/Tuck's first episode was just about the greatest thing God ever created. Cavemen started like a regular sitcom...a bad sitcom. None of the jokes were funny in the traditional sitcom sense, or the novelty caveman sense. I won't even rehash the horrible five minute introduction, but for God's sake, if you don't have a great intro, at least play to the generic strengths of the series: Prehistoric Man. I didn't hear one bit of caveman humor throughout the entire introduction.

So in the immortal words of Nip/Tucks first episode, i give any television producers reading this post some advice: "I think we need to hire a full time psychologist to screen better." [As you tie hams to a corpse to feed it to alligators]

Since I forgot...

2007-09-27T19:52:00.000-05:00

How come there hasn't been gigantic hype/disgust over Britney Spears' new "rap" song. Honest to God, play it side by side with K-Fed and you won't be able to tell which is worse.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8c23KoKuNk&mode=related&search =

"But I'm just Britney Spears and I've got all this power."

For comparison, refresh yourself with Kevin Federline's Brazilian ass-shaker: "Popozao."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxXLp-2J3wI

Any thoughts on which one is better? Please remain objective, notwithstanding the fact that neither of them should have custody of a child, dog, or bowl of ice cream.

The Neverending Plague

2007-09-27T19:01:00.000-05:00

The homeless are migrating. Today I was out for a drive on a GRAVEL COUNTRY ROAD to look at a crime scene. In the middle of the road was an incredibly old woman lying down. I thought she might be dead, so I stopped to get first dibs on any cash or valuables she might be carrying. But alas, she was just senile as hell and unable to walk very well. Foolishly, I agreed to give her a ride to the hospital, or someplace else that wasn't in the middle of a road. She promptly accepted and stepped into my ride.

I guess I should have known...absence of home, craving for change, increased recidivism rate...this 87 year old woman was HOMELESS. The threat multiplied when I realized she had an accent that wasn't American...and asked in broken English if I "sprechened zie Deutsche." Confronted with the realization that this woman was homeless, senile, and unable (due to age, facial hair and missing teeth) to fulfill my hot Jessica Alba-related hitchhiker fantasies, I pushed my mighty V-6 engine to the limits and dropped her at the courthouse, where surely some police officer could assist her with a friendly vagrancy arrest.

Wouldn't you know it, the homeless have allies! From the socialist country of wurker, the Social Workers have allied themselves with all scum of the world. Much like the good guys in GI Joe facing off against COBRA, I squared off for the assault. Immediately the stupid bitch greeted the homeless invader and demanded to know why I gave her a ride into town. Hindsight tells me I should have taken the Barry Gibb approach to confrontation and inquired: "Do you know who I am??? I will RUIN you!!" Instead I responded "She was laying in the middle of an unpaved road in the middle of the country, was confused, and asked for a ride to town." The dumb [fill in the blank] told me not to deal with things I'm not trained for.

Now if I may be serious for a moment, the woman needed some help. The weather, remote area, senility, and prone position in the middle of the road placed her at moderate risk of great bodily harm. Although I would have never helped a person in Madison in the same situation (because they'd only convert my sympathy into cash for Riley's), I think there were extinuating circumstances in this case. Mainly, not wanting to be responsible for her death by driving by and flaunting my status as an apartment rentor while I drank a mountain dew paid for with real paper money, not change. But I digress. The real point of this story is that I hate social workers. I didn't want a thank you, or a medal, or even a smile. All I wanted was $10,000 and a sandwich for risking my life transporting a dangerous poor person.

Things to do in Missouri

2007-09-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

Some entreprenuers in Missouri have announced that they intend to turn a giant cave into an underground recreational area complete with shopping, scuba diving, ice skating, and even a photo booth. I'm always wary of caves because of the undesirable life forms that tend to dwell there. Below is a list of prominant cave residents that I don't like:

1. Osama Bin Laden
2. Jabba the Hut
3. Jason Voorhees' mother's head (but only in the Nintendo version of the Friday the 13th saga)
4. Spelunkers
5. Gollum
6. ABBA
7. Batman
8. Batman Returns
9. Bears (both regular bears and polar bears, in ice caves...the Berenstein Bears are excluded because they live in a giant tree)
10. The Boxcar children (but only because Grandfather Alden got sick of them mooching and drove them from the boxcar into a cave...where they discovered a mystery)
11. Steve Guttenberg

As you can plainly see, caves don't have much to offer in the way of recreation, so I'm not sure what this Missouri dickhead sees in the recreational cave business. I for one, will be boycotting the cave mall/ice rink/lake. Who's with me?

Possibly the Greatest Thing I've Seen in Years

2007-09-10T20:02:00.001-05:00

You all know that we're at war with animals...those bastards occupy our forests, live in our fishbowls and run out onto our highways. So, it just makes you shake your fists with rage/triumph whenever one of the good guys wins one for humanity:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070909/ap_on_sc/whale_shot

In case you're wondering, that story is about a whale getting shot by a machine gun.

Nip/Tuck becomes reality

2007-08-29T08:02:00.000-05:00

Wow...anyone who watches Nip/Ttuck knows that the show continually tries to outdo itself in terms of outrageousness Some of us were recently discussing a hypothetical Nip/Tuck episode where the doctors implant boar tusks on a patient. Well, turns out, IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED!!!

http://writ.lp.findlaw.com/commentary/20070823_stempel.html

The Bear Grylls Accusations

2007-08-28T19:01:00.000-05:00

Some of you may know that everyone's favorite adventurer/explorer, Bear Grylls, has recently been accused of lying to the public on his show: Man versus Wild. Specifically, the accusations include (1) that Bear received assistance from camera crews in carrying his supplies, (2) that his production crew constructed a raft he built on the rainforest episode and (3) that instead of spending a week in the Tundra, he took a break in a five-star hotel and ate blueberry pancakes for breakfast. I would like to address each of these accusations in turn.

1. So at the beginning of each show, Bear is left in the wild with only a few supplies/trash that he recylces into amazing survival supplies. For instance, a shoelace becomes a snare to catch rabbits, a camera lense is turned into a laser to hunt elephants, and a tic tac becomes a grenade capable of taking down an entire pride of allegators. Is it any surprise that Bear used his pocketknife to force the camera crew to carry his stuff??? I mean, come on...you're stuck in the wild, a camera crew is mocking you with their well-fed attitude and insect repellant, and you have a knife. In a survival situation, the sensible thing to do would be threatening to shank the camera crew if they didn't carry your meager belongings. Afterall, calories in the wild are precious and few, and can't be wasted on carrying things that can be carried by an indigenous camera crew.

2. What if Bear had been stranded on a beach with a bunch of giant lincoln logs...would we have faulted him for combining the logs in their natural grooves to form a raft? He had no control over the production crew's ability to leave the scattered components of a raftlike structure crafted by chainsaws and twine, why should we fault him for taking advantage of it? Blaming Bear for refusing to take advantage of his surroundings is like blaming Tom Cruise for telling us all to take vitamins...both are just trying to make us healthier. If you say otherwise, you're asking Americans to die, and that makes you a terrorist.*

3. Again, this "accusation" is easily explained by Bear's natural resourcefulness. If the camera crew left him with a plastic bottle, shattered lightbulb, and coffee grounds, it's safe to assume that Bear could have constructed a five-star hotel overnight. Just like he teaches, the most important task in a survival situation is to construct a reliable shelter. Expecting Bear to ignore a basic survival situation is just like blaming him for walking into civilization then running back into the woods because it was too easy to get rescued. It would be much easier for Bear's haters to question his common sense if he happened upon a Ramada and said "well, I could walk into the hotel, get breakfast, and call for a ride...but that could take days, days I don't have. Instead, I'm going to swim across the Atlantic Ocean, hike through the Ardennes forest, and beg a Frenchman to come to my rescue." Good luck with that scenario.

So in sum, it's easy to make accusations, but with a reasonable explanation, Bear's critics are all exposed as unmitigated dumbasses. If this leads to the cancellation of Man versus Wild, I swear to God I'll make it my life mission to plant trees, close factories, save endangered species, and otherwise make the world an unbearable wilderness that all of Mr. Gryll's haters will not be able to survive. Since that's a world none of us want to see, I'd strongly suggest calling the dogs off**...or Bear will have to eat them raw.

* Unless you are encouraging foreigners to die. That would make you an American.

** Is it too early for a Michael Vick joke?

Homeless at Bayside

2007-08-16T18:13:00.001-05:00

I get up pretty early nowadays, and one of the few true pleasures I have left in life is watching an episode of Saved by the Bell with a pot of coffee. Today, I saw an episode that I had never seen before: "A Bayside Christmas Carol."

Essentially, the gang all gets jobs working at a mall during the holiday season to raise a few bucks. On the way in, they see a homeless man. Instead of roundhousing him in his insolent, indigent face, they give him some change and feel sorry for him. Screech broke the serious moment by remarking that he also eats from the trash.

Later on, Zack meets a girl who looked way too good to be homeless in the mall and starts to lay down his patented Zack Morris mack. The twist turns out (unsurprisingly) to be that the homeless man is her father, and they live together in a car. Of course, they had a textbook "liberal" version of how they became homeless...a big computer company laid the father off, they moved out to California to start a new job and that company went bankrupt. So they fell behind on rent, and since there was no money to do laundry, he didn't look presentable enough to do well in an interview. I've used the same excuse myself during OCI.

Eventually, Zack asked his new woman's father what he wanted from life. This pissed me off. What kind of stupid ass question is that? However, what irritated me more, is that the father answered "a home and good life for my family," instead of the real answer that every homeless person is thinking" "motherfucking crack."

Eventually, Kelly let it slip to her boss that her coworker and Zack's girlfriend was homeless. The boss, who was supposed to be the Bayside version of Ebeneezer Scrooge replied "Well if I had known THAT, I wouldn't have hired her. Those people steal!" Score one for the good guys! Don't get me wrong...I love Saved by the Bell, but the stark lack of reality sometimes makes it unbearable to watch. In the real world, people make assumptions, others are less than altruistic, and most people are responsible, at least a little bit, for their own mistakes. The fact that Zack and his mother took in a couple of homeless people as their long-term guests after knowing them two days, had the air of a public service announcement that shuns me for not inviting the average crackhead on State Street to sleep in my spare bedroom. My message to you, Saved by the Bell, is that when I want a sermon, I will go to church.

On the other hand, I'll be watching tomorrow morning.

Houston, We Have a Problem

2007-08-09T18:18:00.000-05:00

Suffice it to say: I am in deep, deep, deep shit.

UPDATE:

To quote the Great Phil Helmuth Jr., "I can dodge bullets, baby." I'm taking this as clearance to be the biggest asshole in the universe whenever I feel like it from now on.

Happily Ever After

2007-08-07T18:27:00.001-05:00

Last weekend was my former roommate's wedding. I've known him since grade school and to see the wedding was weird, to say the least. Apparently, I won the award for being the loudest. And the drunkest. My parents refused to leave amidst strong hints from my brother and I that we would be getting drunk soon. So yeah, I'm disowned for the time being.

If you would have asked me when I graduated from high school which of my friends was least likely to wed, it would have been him. Mainly because he had an amazing ability to repulse women that surpassed even my own. But if there was one thing he was good at, it was persistence. As another friend of mine explained, technically, it's not stalking if the girl eventually goes out with you. They're going to live happily ever after, be affluent and respected, have neighborhood cookouts and go down in history as all-around solid people.

One might remark that I should be happy, even ecstatic for them. I am. However, as a human being, I feel compelled to indulge my neurotic, narcissistic tendencies every so often. The rest of this post, therefore, is about me.

I was the only one in the entire wedding party that showed up sans date...and every one of the guests at the reception had to comment on it. One of the girls in the wedding party was someone I had every opportunity to date [in fact, an open invitation] for a long time, but since my roommate and I were fighting for several months, I turned it down for the sole reason of not wanting to owe him any favors (she was friends with his wife). Seeing her there with a date was like a staunch kick to the junk...I really wished I would have asked her out. In the context of a wedding, I wondered if I was one of those tragic characters in a movie that others are supposed to feel sorry for...the one everyone is supposed to learn from because he had some stupid excuse and missed out on someone who might have been the love of his life. And my steak was overdone.

Quickly I reminded myself that I did not possess female reproductive organs and discarded such Hugh Grant sentimentality. Yet, I still find myself wondering why I was the only one there that never grew up. Now, I know that growing up isn't contingent solely on finding a woman to take to a wedding. I'd like to believe that had I applied myself, I could have done so. But I didn't, and the lack of application seems to be the distinguishing factor between my life and those of everyone else at that wedding.

Some of you might try to argue with this logic and point out the things that are good in my life. Yes, I have a job. I'm competent and ethical and like to think that my dumbass clients respect me for it. But the truth is, I only fight when I feel like a fight, the rest of my clients are mashed together in a stew of competent apathy and devoured by the judicial system. Yes, I can probably succeed in the "traditional" sense...move up in the employment world, get a house, mow the lawn, join the Rotary. But the truth is I have no idea what the hell I really truly want to do. I might fit in better living in the woods with the bears. Yes, I have a respectable character in World of Warcraft. But the truth is, Christ, I actually play World of Warcraft.

Sometimes I wonder what TV character I look like through another person's eyes. I was recently compared to John "J.D." Dorian from Scrubs. Amusing, but it's kind of sad when someone looks at your life and is amused...kind of the way you feel when you see a place advertising "Taxidermy and Cheese" on the side of the freeway. You can't help but smile at the chump behind the counter when you ask for a block of Colby Cheddar and a stuffed hawk.

So in sum, I don't know what to think. Maybe I'll live happily ever after as well, or maybe the janitor will get the best of me for the rest of my life. Or perhaps I'm waiting for my "J.D." phase to end and move on to a more badass role in The Fastest and Most Furious of All: A Street Racing Story. All I know is, if I don't make some changes, I could end up like Screech. And that wouldn't be happily ever after.

Holy Crap!

2007-08-01T20:27:00.000-05:00

I grew up near the twin cities, and spent alot of time there. When I flipped on the news tonight, I saw that the I-35 bridge collapsed, plunging at least 50 cars into the river and resulting in several injuries and at least three fatalities. I'm guessing the television coverage lost something in the translation, because I couldn't even recognize the area I can navigate by instinct.

As the 35W bridge is adjacent to the Metrodome, people won't be able to get to the Twins or Vikings games. Nobody went to the Gopher football games to begin with, so that won't be a problem.

Some reporter on CNN just asked if the Mississippi river was a "big river." Wolf Blitzer said "there are casualties, and I think people are hurt or killed as well." Thanks Wolf. Additionally, the Department of Homeland Security has reported that this was probably not an act of terrorism. Granted, I don't work for the CIA, but haven't they ever heard of Magneto? As I recall, he was able to lift the entire Golden Gate Bridge and use it as a weapon. Just because he's not Middle Eastern, doesn't rule out the possibility of terrorism. Racists.

In all seriousness, the scene looks pretty unbelievable. 35W is to Minneapolis what Iceland is to the game of Risk: It's the crux of the map, and when it's down, nothing can move. I can only imagine the months of nightmare traffic that will plague the twin cities. So in sum: Wow.

Notable Things My Clients Said to the Judge Today

2007-07-30T19:17:00.000-05:00

"Fuck you, you fucking faggot, you're dead."

-Needless to say, I'm now studying the law of contempt...and felony threatening a judge. It's nice to work in such an intellectually stimulating environment.

Adventures in Bachelorhood

2007-07-23T19:05:00.001-05:00

This weekend was my roommate's bachelor party, which we held in Chicago. While I won't go into all of the details of the night, I feel there are some noteworthy moments out there.

We began, oddly enough, with drinking. Then after building up a decent buzz, we went to play Whirlyball. For those of you who have never heard of it, whirlyball is a game that combines lacrosse with high speed bumper cars. It was pretty much the greatest thing I have ever done. But let me tell you; you get enough head on collissions at thirty miles and hour and the whiplash actually starts to hurt.

Afterwards we went to dinner and one of my roommates friends, who had too much to drink, took a glass from under the bar, and filled it from the tap when the bartender wasn't looking. Some chicks at the bar took notice and threatened to report him-one claimed to be a canine cop. However, that was defused when he noted that her accent was Australian, and we would never tolerate a foreign cop in America. He had her there.

Then my roommate said something I took great offense to: He said that he didn't want to drink anymore and just wanted to enjoy "a quiet night on the town." Immediately, I began to label him with various parts of the female anatomy and encouraged everyone to join in. What a dumbfuck. So we took him to a bar (It rhymed with "plyote fugly") and began to pressure him heavily to drink. By "pressure," I mean we actually forced the first few beers in him. The night rapidly evolved into various displays of drinking one upsmanship and eventually I was one upsmansmashed.

Eventually, his brother got hammered and began petitioning the various hot women around the bar to sign his shirt. One of the girls was someone I postively identified as a patient I saw on Dr. 90210. For the record, they looked real. Anyways, I mentioned that I had seen her on the show and she confirmed this, then said something to the effect that she was tired of being approached by strangers because she is "a celebrity." I kid you not, she described herself as a celebrity. Soon thereafter her boyfriend (whom had a serious Napoleon complex) came over and asked my roommate if "he wanted to die" for having his girlfriend sign his shirt. The three of us that were there at the moment, being much larger and armed with the power of being raging drunk, threatened to smash his testes on the bar with a sledgehammer. He said he would call "his boys." Don't worry, when he said he was calling other dudes, I got the first gay joke in. We then mocked him relentlessly about the fact that 1/3 of his body weight was composed of hairgel. What a douchebag.

Finally, we ended the night elsewhere and got back without one person throwing up. Considering the heroic drinking that went on that night, I'm calling it a win.

Welcome to the O.C., Bitch

2007-07-12T11:15:00.000-05:00

"Well that didn't take you long" were the words out of my coworker's mouth when he tried to scold me like a child for pissing off the judge. Apparently, the courts have been operating here for years as if the rules don't apply to them and a request for a speedy trial is a "deep insult" to the court's skill in assessing an appropriate bail. When I informed my coworker that I would not be apologizing for making a legitimate motion, he and the judge made it clear to everyone in the courthouse that I was a huge asshole and shouldn't be listened to. The judge also implied that all of my clients would suffer as a result. If they want an asshole, the asshole is here now.

Man, this is just like the time Ryan Atwood got beaten up by Luke Ward when he first came to the O.C. However, I take comfort in the immortal words of John Rambo for the long fight ahead: "If you want a war, I'll give you a war you won't believe."

Did I Just Make it a Whole Week?

2007-07-07T11:36:00.000-05:00

I think I just made it a whole week...a week without TV, internet, pizza, Qdoba, and attacks from homeless people. Most importantly, I made it an entire week without making a comment to my new coworkers about Vin Diesel movies or the O.C....two things I have been unable to avoid throughout my legal career. I even avoided a perfect moment to quote the Big Lebowski.

Something tells me things will end up okay.

Yo Johnny, I'll see you in the next life!

2007-07-01T11:04:00.001-05:00

The title of this post, of course, refers to the immortal words that Bodhi yelled to Johnny Utah at the end of Point Break, when he jumped on a jeep with Rosie in the Mexican desert and left Utah and Tyler standing amongst the parachutes and $100 bills floating around. For both Utah and Bodhi, the next life began at that moment. The Ex-Presidents were disbanded, Utah was ousted from his gang of blood brothers, and all had survived a harrowing and life changing experience. Each had important work to do and a new phase of life to attend to.

Today, I'm jumping on the jeep with Rosie (metaphorically speaking). I'm really, truly, leaving Madison after three years and I guess I'm experiencing the same degrees of regret, excitement, and trepidation that Bodhi and Utah felt in the Mexican desert. Although I'll be back, it won't ever be the same. My band of ex-Presidents will also be working and eventually spread all over the nation (better than the fate of the real ex-Presidents, though). And in the not-so-distant future, people will start settling down, getting dogs, having families, beginning successful careers, and in general, ruling the world. Although there is certainly nothing wrong with that, I imagine that I'll look back on the last few years now and then and wish I was still in law school.

So to everyone who didn't get a proper farewell, take these words to heart: Yo Johnny, I'll see you in the next life!

Now play some whimsical/nostalgic but still badass music in your heads.

Burgle Averted

2007-06-25T17:24:00.000-05:00

Last night, I retired to an anticipated night of slumber around one in the morning. I had locked the doors, shut off the lights and anticipated dreaming about wild pumas running roughshod around Madison. At around three in the morning, I awoke to the telltale squeaking of the floorboards outside of my bedroom. Quickly, I ran down the mental list. My roommate was in Milwaukee for the night, the lights were off, and the upstairs neighbors had the tendency to leave the door to our shared balcony unlocked. I reached the only logical conclusion I could: A homeless person had climbed up to our balcony and walked into the negligently unlocked door with the intension of burglarizing me.

Needless to say, two thoughts came to mind. One, was I dreaming this? Two, if not, what to do? My half dragon/half robot guard creature is still in the experimental phase, so I knew that I would have to face any potential assailants on my own. After hearing the squeak again, I confirmed that I was not dreaming this and took stock of the situation. I grabbed my phone and dialed 9, then 1, and left the final one for once I'd confirmed the presence of an intruder. Then I equipped myself with the only weapon I have in my room: a pair of numchucks. Taking a deep breath, I charged from my room and bumrushed the back corner of my house. There was my roommate, shuffling through some of his crap strewn about the house. I demanded an explanation for almost having to kill him, and he said that he decided to come back early morning so he could haul more things out of our place to Milwaukee today. It's safe to say that while alarmed, I was relieved. Still, I think that had there been an actual burglary in progress, I would have been prepared to numchuck the shit out of the hapless homeless intruder who sought to steal my beer.

The Best Movie Trilogy Ever

2007-06-24T17:21:00.001-05:00

Last week, some friends and I discussed the best and worst movie trilogies ever made. The general consensus was that Indiana Jones, the original Star Wars, and Back to the Future were in a close race for the best trilogies. Also discussed was the phenomenon that plagues the second movie in a trilogy as the worst one (i.e. Ocean's 12, Pirates II, Matrix Reloaded, and I hope to god that Fantastic Four II is the worst of the series). With some badass trilogies coming out this summer (Rush Hour III), I figured that I would start my own franchise of trilogy and ride the money train. Only my second movie will not suck. So without any more delay, I present to you the cast and storyline of Point Break II: The Breaking Point.

Cast:

Johnny Utah: Keanu Reeves
Bodhi: Patrick Swayze
Tyler Ann Endicott: Jessica Beil (I made the executive decision to swap Loren Petty with someone way hotter who doesn't remind me of A League of their Own).
Mario Pappas: (Twin brother of dead Angelo Pappas) Gary Busey
Special Agent Ben Harp: John McGinley
A.C. Slater: Mario Lopez

Plot:

1. The movie begins in the same manner as Rocky, with Utah telling the Australian SWAT team that Bodhi isn't coming back, and cuts to Utah throwing FBI badge in the ocean and walking away.
2. Utah walks into FBI office and Special Agent Harp fires him. Utah makes badass comment about the office exceeding the asshole quota. Storms off. Harp quits and changes name to Perry Cox.
3. Meets Tyler at home. She explains sudden hotness with "do you like my plastic surgery?"
4. Governor Schwarzenegger makes a cameo and forms the Surf Crimes unit, which Utah heads with Pappas' twin brother.
5. Cuts to Bodhi who was washed 800 miles in a tsunami to Malaysia. The Ronald Reagan mask washes up beside him. Bodhi puts on the mask, and surfs across the ocean to America while sinister music plays.
6. Utah is watching TV in his office...it's a show about a Great White fighting a Grizzly with explosions and lightening bolts everywhere. The show cuts to breaking news with Connie Chung who states that the U.S. bank in LA had been robbed by a surfer wearing a Reagan mask.
7. Utah and Pappas stake out a random bank in L.A. Utah goes to get meatball sandwiches and Pappas yells, "Hey Utah, get me two!" Unbeknownst to them, Bodhi is robbing the bank.
8. Badass car chase scene...they destroy property worth far more than the bank robbery loot.
9. Utah almost catches Bodhi, points gun, but cannot pull the trigger because they are blood brothers. Points gun in the air and fires off magazine while emitting a gutteral yell.
10. Action sequence with skydiving, pounding a liter of tequila, and playing beach football.
11. Utah corners Bodhi at a beach with huge tsunamis. The tsunamis alternate between regular tsunamis and Lord of the Rings style that look like galloping horses. Utah says "You gotta go down again, Bodhi." A fight ensues in the surf.
12. Bodhi begins to drown Utah then he lets go. Both look up and see the Silver Surfer drilling holes in the earth. Utah looks at Bodhi and says, "go, it is your destiny." Utah looks at the Human Torch and kills him with a badass overdose.
13. Bodhi gets on his surfboard and chases after the Silver Surfer. There is a huge fight scene where they fight while surfing the crest of the tsunami. Eventually, they punch each other so hard (at the same time) that both fly into space.
14. Camera cuts to space where Bodhi throws the Silver Surfer into the Sun. Galactus destroys France.
15. Back to Utah on Earth: He looks sadly at the Reagan mask in his hand because he realizes that Bodhi had some good in him. Utah looks upwards and sees that the stars had realigned into a constellation that looked exactly like Bodhi's face. AC Slater appears and high-fives Utah.
16. Screen fades to black and the words "The end" appear...after a few seconds, "?" appears and we see Bodhi plunging into the ocean, unhurt.
17. Cut to credits and play Ratt: Nobody Rides for Free

If this movie doesn't win the Oscar for best movie ever made, then just wait for the third in the Point Break trilogy.

Check out the original trailer for Point Break, featuring Reeves, Swayze, Busey and Dr. Cox. Now multiply it by about five hundred in anticipation of the badassedry that will ensue from the sequal.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4-Fso2EZq8

That's all she wrote

2007-06-19T21:04:00.000-05:00

Today I received a license to practice law in Wisconsin and can thus cause immeasurable destruction at my whim. Thus ends slightly more than three years of legal education and formally casts me out into the real world. It's been a good ride. I learned to work harder than I ever have before, discovered a profession I love, met some of the best friends I've ever had, and met a whole lot more that I consider to be unmitigated douchebags.

However, in the end, the good things far outweighed the bad and in this moment of nostalgia, I kind of wish that law school lasted four years. This was a period of transformation that I know turned me into a better person on all levels and I'm infinitely thankful that the UW sent that small-envelope acceptance letter and saved me from a life of mediocrity in the professional wolf wrestling circuit, middleweight division.

People make alot of jokes about lawyers being greedy, unsavory, obnoxious people. Regardless of how many Enron executives, Duke Lacrosse prosecutors and Howard K. Sterns tarnish the legal profession, I'll always be able to look on my friends and colleagues with eternal respect. We're a band of brothers, baptised in the Socratic Method, late nights at the library, a zillion legal writing revisions, borderline alcoholism and fire. I don't remember the fire, but I can only assume that a certain professor, (who I'll call "Cliff T." for privacy reasons), at one time lit us all on fire and then made us forget with an Indonesian amnesia potion. Man, that guy is a badass.

So as I march into the real world, power to destroy in hand, I have to think back on that very first morning, at 7:45...walking into a huge lecture hall for a legal writing introduction with a man whose ego more than filled the hall. I see a young, timid kid who was finally living the dream he's had since seventh grade. And in this memory that now seems ancient I know one thing: I'm a lawyer, and I could totally kick that kid's ass.

Godspeed.

2007-06-13T19:13:00.000-05:00

If you're wondering, I'm posting this picture of Glen Mason because it is the only thing that can cheer me up after this monumentally bad day. For the record, I'm an idiot and apparently everyone else thinks so too.

NADOS!

2007-06-10T19:46:00.000-05:00

I can't remember if I've ever taken the time to discuss the phenomenon known as the tornado (hereafter "nado") on this blog. We all live (those of us in Wisconsin anyways) in one of the most tornadically active areas on the planet and I have to admit, I always get a little excited when I see the thunderstorms coming in and hear the sirens go off. Severe storms are probably my greatest reminder that I'm not completely invulnerable to nature. And it pisses me off.

So needless to say, I was excited to hear from my brother who witnessed several nados last week during his stormchasing class. Before you scoff at the existence of this class, I should note that my brother is in graduate school for meteorology so it's not worthless, like the golf and Italian classes some law students take. Anyways, his sentiments of the tornado were much like my own: It's an amazing and beautiful event when the nado descends from the rotating wall cloud and reminds us all of the power of nature. Still, there appears to be nothing we can do to stop it. Unlike sharks, grizzlies, and Oprah, the nado cannot be kicked in the nuts. It's like a dong without the achilles heel of testicals...and that can be very dangerous; like Lance Armstrong.*

I'll readily admit that I've devoted much more time than reasonable to thinking about ways to stop the nado in its tracks. My most productive idea was blowing it up. Afterall, AMERICA has followed this theory for decades without a single instance of failure (see e.g. Afghanistan, Iraq, beached whales). My theory had something to do with changing the heat and pressure index inside the nado and having it evaporate into a rainbow. A badass rainbow. But I tossed that theory after seeing videos of tornados blow up gas stations and keep on trucking. So it's back to the drawing board.

In all seriousness, I only think nados are cool when they're not killing people and destroying shit. I've twice seen the devastation of the nado and it's truly astounding. Nados are like tigers: it's awesome when they roar and slash at wild animals, but it's only awesome when they stay in the woods. It's a different story when they posse up and take to the streets.

*DISCLAIMER: Yes, that was indeed a cheap shot I took at Lance Armstrong and I spent a considerable amount of time debating whether it was fit to print. But in a sordid, twisted way, I continued to find it funny after a five minute waiting period and decided to leave it. The fact is, Lance Armstrong is more accomplished in the average hour, than I have been in my entire life. I in no way mean to belittle his or anyone else's battle with cancer, life struggles, or wild boars. Jesus, if you're reading, please don't send me to hell.

Eye Doctor This [points to genitals]

2007-06-07T11:12:00.000-05:00

I went in for my quasi-annual eye doctor appointment yesterday and was confronted by a gigantic dickhead who obviously thought alot of himself. My appointments have been quasi-annual, because the student health plan only allots limited vision benefits and I can't afford to pay for most of it out of pocket. But alas, the contact supply was almost depleted and I had to go in.

The optometrist asked me how often I changed my "monthly" contacts. Oh about every couple of months, I answered honestly. Then he launched into a lecture about how contacts were a prescription device, and if I didn't use them exactly as prescribed, I was abusing a drug...it was no different than abusing narcotics. I ignored the condescending speech for a moment. Then he told me that he needed to know my occupation for his medical records. I told him "lawyer." (Yes, I know I'm not officially a lawyer yet, but I got an adrenaline rush from the lie). This guy then had the nerve to tell me exactly why he hated all lawyers; particularly medical malpractice lawyers for always bringing "frivolous" lawsuits and criminal defense lawyers for getting all these guilty people off on technicalities. I reminded him that in some people's take on the law, those accused of a crime are presumed innocent. He poked my eye with a metal instrument. The visit ended when he told me he "refused" to write prescriptions for "inferior" generic contacts. There went an extra hundred bucks.

On an unrelated medical note, Paris Hilton was released from jail today after serving only three days of her 45 day sentence for an "unspecified medical problem." I hate to speculate, but should a semen overdose really be grounds to release someone to home monitoring?

Who really killed O.J.'s wife?

2007-06-05T11:06:00.000-05:00

Anyone ever had one of those dreams that just continues all night? Last night, I kept waking up every half an hour or so, but as soon as I went to sleep, the dream continued. Basically, a faction of the CIA contacted me to let me know that the fate of the modern world actually hinged on Ron Goldman not getting murdered. They had a time machine, and were going to send me back two weeks before the alleged OJ Simpson murder to stop whoever did it. The kicker? The CIA had conclusive proof that OJ was not the murderer, so I had to find the killer on my own. Two weeks to save the world.

So they sent me back with a bunch of guns and a friend of mine from law school and we went around busting heads and taking prisoners of people who may be able to help us find the killer. Now and then, my perception of the world switched to "video game mode" and my eyes would "scroll" over something and a little box would pop up mentally telling me that the person has information or is a threat. One other thing...we traveled in a Greyhound bus, driven by Higgins from Magnum, P.I.

Jonathan Quayle Higgins

Anyways, it was a day before the murder and I was very close to catching the murderer...we had an address and we just had to get there before he left to begin the slashing. I knew the place was twenty minutes away, however, I didn't know where it was. The fate of the world rested on me being able to navigate. I awoke in a panic, because Ron Goldman is in serious danger without Higgins getting good directions in the front of the bus. I was unable to return to sleep.

Now, I'm kind of pissed that I didn't get to see the end of my mental movie. I really wanted to know who the real killer was (almost certainly somebody I knew), if we saved the world, and most importantly, why Ron Goldman was the link that bound all humanity to survival. Anyone got any ideas? Because I sense a blockbuster movie.

And isn't it ironic, don't you think?

2007-06-04T10:30:00.000-05:00

The last time I walked outside (two days ago), I saw a giant pink piece of paper plastered on my windshield. It encouraged me to "save the environment" by working for an unnamed organization this summer. I quickly balled up the piece of paper and threw it on the street. Fuck you, environment.

My Day

2007-06-02T00:31:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning, made some coffee, then never walked outside. My dickhole landlord called the night before and informed me that he had scheduled three showings...starting at 8 a.m. I woke up at 7 so I could be dressed and showered before the prospective tenants could stare disapprovingly at my dirty clothes heap.

The first show I flipped on happened to be The Rock, starring Nicolas Cage. Strangely, Charter only gave it one star, while other movies like The Wash (A movie about smoking and selling weed; starring Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre) received two stars. After that movie ended, I decided to remain consistent and switched to another Nic Cage movie: The Family Man. At the end of that one, I was awake, and the storms were rolling in, so I decided to forego venturing outside and flipped on the third Nic Cage movie of the day: 8MM. I've seen it a few times now, but it never fails to shock me as one of the most fucked up movies I've ever seen. Finally, I found a FOURTH consecutive Nic Cage movie: Lord of War. I liked it, since it kind of reminded me of Thank you for smoking, only it was alot darker with more people getting killed.

So how did I spend my day? I wasted...no INVESTED it in reviewing the work of Nicolas Cage. I don't think I'll be able to do that again until I retire. Three years from now.

Another Laundry First

2007-05-28T12:44:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was doing my laundry. I was keeping a wary eye on the homeless guys smoking drugs in the bathroom (and here, I'm not exaggerating), when I was approached by a little girl maybe two years old at the oldest. I had seen her running around with her family and speaking spanish the whole time.

She walked up to me, tugged on my sleeve, and said "Hola, papa."

Even though I'm pretty certain I haven't fathered any illegitimate Mexican children, it was still kind of weird.

Lame

2007-05-25T09:19:00.000-05:00

Last night, I was up until two doing something awesome and I fell asleep in a haze of exhaustion. I woke up about 4:30 a.m. with my light on and my tax statute book open in front of me. Apparently my sleepwalking self had nothing better to do than peruse the Internal Revenue Code.

I'm trying valiently to find a place to live in [Vice President Utah's undisclosed location] but things are becoming difficult due to the inability of landlords to return my phone calls. You would think that a basic sense of salesmanship should compel someone to try to fill the rental vacancies they have, but it seems that it's easier to take a tax loss.

The fact that I'm leaving for quasi-good struck me hard the other day and I began to think of the things that I wish I had more time to do here...start a write-in campaign to elect Chuck Norris coroner, gallop a horse through the law library, and find a decent place to get donuts. The truth is, even though I didn't do everything I hoped to in this place, in three years I really only have two regrets. "Regret" is a powerful word that I try not to invoke unless I really mean it...much like "love," "hate," or "badass." It's not merely an acknowledgment of a mistake: a regret implies that given the chance and a time-traveling Delorian, you would go back and change history altogether. And I'm not talking about large-scale history changes, like Terminator, Heroes, and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure; I'm talking about individualized history changes, like Marty McFly in Back to the Future, and Paul Walker with his masterful performance in Timeline (you really believe he's a time traveller; just like in Varsity Blues you really believe he's the quarterback of a high school football team and not some 30 year old guy).

But I digress. The fact that I've watched alot of badass time travel movies doesn't really address the true nature of a regret. A regret is only realized in a true sense of immutable change that makes the act or omission irrevocable. For example, after three years of law school, I'm irrevocably an asshole. Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets about that.

The combination of nothing to do and a generalized absence of social interactions has left me with alot of time to ponder my past, present and future. However, I know that if I don't spend my last moments as a Madison resident with the people I know I'll miss, I'll have a third regret to add to the list. Realizing that now is history in action. We can all be the change. And that's my quasi-serious reflection for the month.

Reflections on Bears

2007-05-19T16:01:00.000-05:00

I'm a sucker for stories about bears, and I always read the space news, so I was amused with this one here:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20070518/sc_livescience/astronautsgetatipfromhibernatingbears

Yesterday, two separate people told me that I would end up defending someone who gratifies himself (sexually) with a bear...I'm kind of looking forward to that case.

In unrelated news, I have officially changed my adventurer/explorer name to Flint Blitz.

The Final Battle

2007-05-14T21:12:00.000-05:00

Mr. Vice recently prophesized that the raccoon would come back to strike. He's never been wrong in the past when it comes to animal super-villains, and now I fear the prophecy has come true. I'm cowering in my bedroom, listening to the sound of a larger clawed animal scurrying about in my ceiling. Not roof. Ceiling. The scary shit is I don't have a nice plaster and wood ceiling shielding me against the raccoon enemy like I did at the old place. This one has standard ceiling tiles and I can hear the motherfucker chewing and clawing. There is a very real chance
that a gigantic raccoon will come crashing down on me while I sleep.

We all know this is a sequal, and from what we know about sequals, nobody is safe. Jason Vorheis, Michael Meyers, and Freddy Krueger all killed off heroes from the previous movies in sequals. In Final Destination II, death caught up with the heroic Ali Larter and knocked her off. In Back to the Future II, Biff killed George McFly. In Rocky II, Rocky Balboa knocked out Apollo Creed. I fear Death stalks me now, and if I die, some lesser actor will have to finish dealing with evil in my absence. Probably Freddy Prinze Jr. I swear, if he gets the movie babe I earned at the end of the first movie because I'm dead, I'll come back and haunt his ass good.

Meanwhile, I have to get up at 6 every morning this week for job training that lasts most of the day. There's someone there with a real life name of "Carl Johnson." Don't worry, I already alienated myself and asked if he was named after the character in GTA San Andreas. However, I know that people are finishing up with finals and I want to cram some hanging out in during the evenings before people depart for the real world (if I'm not dead from raccoon-related injuries).

My Favorite Predator Moments

2007-05-13T13:22:00.000-05:00

I got into one of my frequent Quentin Tarantino discussions the other day and reiterated my dislike of From Dusk till Dawn. The first half of that movie was great as a crime flick...breaking out of prison, killing people, kidnapping hostages and skipping off to Mexico. Then the vampires show up. That's where the movie lost me.

My awkward take on the above movie makes it kind of hard to reconcile my love of the movie Predator. Afterall, it's kind of the same chain of events...special forces team goes on black op, kills a bunch of enemies, makes badass comments about the deaths. Then the alien shows up. However, in my opinion, Predator is an infinitely awesome movie. I have no cogent theory to distinguish it from From Dusk till Dawn, so I'll just give you my top five favorite moments from this fantastic movie.

5. Dutch's final battle with the Predator. We all knew he was going to win, but Arnold really went all out with his ingenuity, building traps, covering himself with mud to shield his infrared signature, and displaying classic Schwarzenegger acting skills when he kicked Predator's ass.

4. Dillon and Arnold flex. Of all the badass greeting scenes in all of the movies ever made, this has to rank near the top. What better way to greet someone than to shake hands in a quasi-armwrestling hold for twenty seconds and show the world how jacked your biceps are. From that point forward in the movie, you knew there would be some ass kicking.

3. Wasting the Communists. The first fight of the movie was against a conventional group of terrorists (non-Americans), and Dutch's team moved in to kick ass in an unprecedented display of badassedry. Dutch charges into the hut (after destroying a door and saying "knock knock"), throws a knife through a bad guy's heart and pins him to the wall. Dutch then exits the hut, but not before he says "stick around." Blain (Jesse Ventura) gets skimmed by a bullet and his buddy shows some concern and one of the greatest lines ever ensues: "You're hit man, you're bleeding." [Blain] "I ain't got time to bleed." I think that line alone got him elected governor.

2. The Helicopter Scene. If you were going into combat on a black op without any possibility of backup, I can think of no better way to get pumped than to blast some Little Richard, put on facepaint, and spew tobacco all over the helicopter. Blain can be credited with his other great line of the movie in the helicopter, as well as Hawkins' joke. Decorum prohibits me from repeating them here, but trust me, it was badass.

1. The Gun Scene. Originally filmed as a joke, after viewing the footage, the director insisted on inserting this scene into the movie. Basically, the team catches a glimpse of the Predator running into the jungle after it killed Blain. Everyone opens fire and literally deforests acres of jungle with their bullets. It was a pure two minutes of gunfire, and badass shouts as the crew emptied their weapons into the jungle.

Clearly, we all know the reason why Predator has produced more governors than any other movie...much like the SNL prediction, I fully expect to see Carl Weathers become governor within the next few years. It would be foolish not to be recognized for his contributions to Predator.

Fin

2007-05-11T12:08:00.001-05:00

Thus ends law school!