Normal is a dirty word. Square is a shape I’ve never liked. And I abhor the legal system.
I’ve had more than enough encounters with it. As a criminal and a victim and let me tell you, it all around sucks. All a bunch of silly shit that doesn’t protect anyone or do anybody any good. (In my humble opinion). Granted my preferred methods of punishment are more medieval, but that’s neither here nor there.
Moving on.
Yesterday, 5pm. Not a bad day. I get my mail, not expecting to not find much; and there it sat. It’s perforated sides and asshole red letters blaring. Jury Duty.
I threw a hissy fit, not taking any of my own advice. I was not taking any more time off work. Between the natural and physical disasters over the last few months, my bank account was looking a little sad. Can’t a bitch just work?
Apparently, no. Monday 9am, December 10th. Great. I work the night before and that evening. Should be fun, if I get out in time. Who needs to sleep?
I do. So I don’t plan on participating appropriately. It’s a thorn in my side and I have money to make and seeing as I work for myself, there’s no paperwork to get me out of the shit. I’ll have to deem myself as bad news. Get myself thrown out. Ejected.
No contempt of court, I’m not that stupid. I just won’t be anybody’s preferred choice. I want to be out like a fat kid in dodgeball, blamo!
So, I purchased the shirt featured above, (they were sold out of “smoke meth, hail satan”). I’m pulling out all of the stops on this one.
Add leather pants, high heels, black eyeliner and lipstick and I’m all set. Is it 8th grade again? Where’s my disc-man with my Garbage CD playing on repeat? This trip may require such a play list.
I plan to sit quietly and when asked whether or not I feel I can be objective, I’ll say no. That I think everything ends up as a kangaroo court* and plan on calling it as I see it. Also I’d like to participate in a hung jury if possible. I’ll make sure nothing is unanimous.
I’m guessing no one will pick me. Unless of course the Universe wills it; and then maybe an angry, law loathing, satanist is exactly what they’ll want.
My bets are that I’m asked to leave and escorted out.
And no, I wouldn’t advise this kind of behavior. I just really hate jury duty and sometime one has to take action…I’m not sending some poor sap off to the slaughterhouse or letting a crazy fiend run free. Count me out. I’ve got baphomets to draw on my walls and forehead…
And if you want the shirt - http://hellsgiftshop.spreadshirt.com/
*(A kangaroo court is “a mock court in which the principles of law and justice are disregarded or perverted”. - Merriam-Webster: Dictionary (online))
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan
I’ve had more than enough encounters with it. As a criminal and a victim and let me tell you, it all around sucks. All a bunch of silly shit that doesn’t protect anyone or do anybody any good. (In my humble opinion). Granted my preferred methods of punishment are more medieval, but that’s neither here nor there.
Moving on.
Yesterday, 5pm. Not a bad day. I get my mail, not expecting to not find much; and there it sat. It’s perforated sides and asshole red letters blaring. Jury Duty.
I threw a hissy fit, not taking any of my own advice. I was not taking any more time off work. Between the natural and physical disasters over the last few months, my bank account was looking a little sad. Can’t a bitch just work?
Apparently, no. Monday 9am, December 10th. Great. I work the night before and that evening. Should be fun, if I get out in time. Who needs to sleep?
I do. So I don’t plan on participating appropriately. It’s a thorn in my side and I have money to make and seeing as I work for myself, there’s no paperwork to get me out of the shit. I’ll have to deem myself as bad news. Get myself thrown out. Ejected.
No contempt of court, I’m not that stupid. I just won’t be anybody’s preferred choice. I want to be out like a fat kid in dodgeball, blamo!
So, I purchased the shirt featured above, (they were sold out of “smoke meth, hail satan”). I’m pulling out all of the stops on this one.
Add leather pants, high heels, black eyeliner and lipstick and I’m all set. Is it 8th grade again? Where’s my disc-man with my Garbage CD playing on repeat? This trip may require such a play list.
I plan to sit quietly and when asked whether or not I feel I can be objective, I’ll say no. That I think everything ends up as a kangaroo court* and plan on calling it as I see it. Also I’d like to participate in a hung jury if possible. I’ll make sure nothing is unanimous.
I’m guessing no one will pick me. Unless of course the Universe wills it; and then maybe an angry, law loathing, satanist is exactly what they’ll want.
My bets are that I’m asked to leave and escorted out.
And no, I wouldn’t advise this kind of behavior. I just really hate jury duty and sometime one has to take action…I’m not sending some poor sap off to the slaughterhouse or letting a crazy fiend run free. Count me out. I’ve got baphomets to draw on my walls and forehead…
And if you want the shirt - http://hellsgiftshop.spreadshirt.com/
*(A kangaroo court is “a mock court in which the principles of law and justice are disregarded or perverted”. - Merriam-Webster: Dictionary (online))
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan