Seriously are you curious?  Want to taste legal superiority without a mountain of debt?  Here’s your first free taste.  That above, is my Arbitration teacher…honestly.  He doesn’t have a name, he’s the “blue haired lawyer” from The Simpsons.  Im not sure if Matt Groening has taken Arbitration before, but he nailed this one.

I hope that constitutes funny…because I got nothing else.  Yep, nadda.


Time to Move…on


Staring out my window at work…not really working…I began to notice how sweet the life of a construction worker was.

First you can wear whatever the hell you want to work, and it doesn’t have to be clean.  Their clothes look like they roll around in the dirt, and their shoes like they walk through concrete…tacky I know.

Second you leave everyday around 3:00PM, when I leave at 5:00PM.  Don’t tell me they get their earlier than me so they can go home sooner.  We both know getting up before 7:00AM is just a myth…It doesn’t really exist.  It’s a story old people tell young people to make them feel good about themselves.

Third they deliver your lunch to you everyday.  I have to drive around, wait in line, and inhale my food just so I can make it back to work before my hours up.  They have someone show up, play some magical horn song, and serve the food hot right there at work.  With a sweet deal like that you can never be late coming back from lunch because you’re already at work…think about that.

Fourth the entertainment comes to you.  I knew the life of a construction worker was sweet, but I had no idea how sweet until yesterday.  A little red car pulls up outside my office, and a mama-san driving the car waives over a couple of construction workers.  Then I notice their are four other women in the car…four scantily clad other women…four very friendly scantily clad other women. 

There they were…they flirted, they handed out business cards, and they drove off, so they could drum up other business…amazing.


The life a construction worker…is there anything not excellent about what they do?


Time for a career change




PS…Hookers have business cards…simply incredible.  I had no idea Epson was offering a “sucks for bucks”  printer purchase incentive program.  I think we need to go back to a simpler time when everything a hooker owned could be easily stuffed into her zip up boots, but im kinda nostalgic.


Monday…first day of summer school.  Who was it that decided monday was the start of the week.  Monday sucks…cant life wait for Tuesday?  Does monday suck because of Monday, or does Monday suck because everyone wants to start work and school on Monday. 


School started tonight…State and Local Government and Arbitration.  Mind is kinda foggy this evening.  Got called on…survived. 


Time to pick up the pace


Well…June 1st were trading in our polar fleece and coon skin caps for poor driving skills and the ability to enjoy playing in dirty snow on the side of the road….yes

We are moving down the hill.  For those not familiar with the area, or our hill, it has an elevation of 6500ft (where I live) and snows.  You might be thinking it sounds more like a mountain than a hill, but I assure you its a hill.  At least we call it a hill, mostly to emphasize how small we think it is because it makes us cooler.  Yes, what we make up for with legendary five’o clock shadows, hearty children, and good driving is an insecurity with our lack of local commercial enterprise. 

We of course will retain certain mountain qualities…like tracking large game, and crapping in the woods, but we will acquire new skills, like eating too much fastfood and generally sucking at driving.


Why you ask are we moving from the cool clean mountain air to the hot smoggy valley below?  Because driving an hour each way to work sucks…didnt you read the part about our lack of local commercial enterprise? 

Did you skim over it because you thought the sentence was fluff or filler?  I spend an incredible amount of time carefully choosing each word and punctuation mark, and I am insulted.


I think that sums it up rather nicely dont you?


Time to Move On


This ladies and gentlemen the is the new buggy wheeling me around the inland empire.  Yeah, its used, but it’s only got 40k miles, and that new car smell still lingers in the cabin, and by new car smell I mean goldbond and dust. 

Oh…so you think its an old lady car?  Well your not the first, so I’ve had to come up with some responses because people keep saying that… em:

“Isnt that an old lady car?” 

My response:  “Well now that you mention it, I did get it from an old lady.  She was slumped over the wheel in the parking lot at Albertsons.  I pushed her out of the front, and pulled her rascal out of the trunk, and voila…new car for me.”

“Excuse me, but dont only old ladies drive those cars?”

My response:  “Yeah normally, but it’s the only thing I could afford that was big enough to carry my balls in.”

Then he says:  “Ha…That’s why I drive a pickup truck.  Big enough for my balls, but I don’t look like an old lady driving it.”

Then I say:  “Yeah I thought about a pickup truck, but it just wasn’t very convenient.  My balls would have to sit in the bed and would probably get cold.  Plus I’d need to buy a trailer to carry my dick.  Hey, wheres your trailer bud?”

“You must be lost.  If your looking for bingo night at the rec center then you made a wrong turn.”

Then I say:  “Oh thanks pal…I was just on my FUCK YOU!



What?…so I ran out of witty things to say.


Time to Drive…Miss Daisy.

Georgia isnt all just hicks in the sticks…No sir.  Sitting at a salt misted table peeling and eating shrimp, drinking beer, and listening to a local beach musician.  Whats that?  Oh thats right…while I was shooting oysters, and sipping margaritas California was having tornado’s.  Freakin tornado’s. 

Yeah, while the winds were blowin in California I was eating more bacon in one sitting than the country of Israel consumes in one year, cause bacon is staple around these parts.  The only major export in Georgia other than bacon is country girls, which a quick image search will show have quite a reputation on the internet.  Wait?…so what if their jewish there.  They dont eat pork?  OH…I get it, your making a joke.  Funny.  To think someone doesnt eat bacon…thats so absurd. 


Time to laugh



Spent time with some friends the other day.  What looks boring, and kinda gay was actually a lot of fun.  The best part…when the evening was about to turn from sausage stew to fish and sausage stew, everyone got tired and went to bed.  AWESOME!!!  I jest…we should enjoy whatever spa, and or pool time we have.  California is making it harder and more expensive to sit around in a jacuzzi with a bunch of dudes.


In 2007 they started the Swimming Pool and Safety Act

115922.  (a) Commencing January 1, 2007 whenever a building permit is issued for construction of a new swimming pool or spa, or any building permit is issued for remodeling of an existing pool or spa, at a private, single-family home, it shall be equipped with at least one of the following seven drowning prevention safety features:
   (1) The pool shall be isolated from access to a home by an enclosure that meets the requirements of Section 115923.
    (2) The pool shall incorporate removable mesh pool fencingthat meets American Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM) Specifications F 2286 standards in conjunction with a gate that is self-closing and self-latching and can accommodate a key lockable device.
   (3) The pool shall be equipped with an approved safety pool coverthat meets all requirements of the ASTM Specifications F 1346 .
    (4) The residence shall be equipped with exit alarms on those doors providing direct access to the pool.
    (5) All doors providing direct access from the home to the swimming pool shall be equipped with a self-closing, self-latching device with a release mechanism placed no lower than 54 inches above
the floor.
    (6) Swimming pool alarms that, when placed in pools, will sound upon detection of accidental or unauthorized entrance into the water.  Which includes surface motion, pressure, sonar, laser, and infrared type alarms. For purposes of this article, “swimming pool alarms” shall not include swimming protection alarm devices designed for individual use, such as an alarm attached to a child that sounds when the child
exceeds a certain distance or becomes submerged in water.
   (7) Other means of protection, if the degree of protection
afforded is equal to or greater
than that afforded by any of the
devices set forth above,


I believe a “sausage stew” is a natural right…granted to us by god.  Those who attempt to steal the rights granted by god are hippies…and hippies don’t bathe.  Yes, they don’t bathe, which is why they make such an effort to hinder our god given right to jacuzzi.


Time to stew

We are flying high right now over black…stuff…with uh?…yellow lights?, and uh? More black stuff?


My internal compass tells me I shouldn’t eat Mexican food before flying, and that it doesn’t know where we are either.

Speaking of which, all this mid air solitude has left me to ponder…

If you fart in a full plane, and everyone’s asleep,

Did it ever really happen?


I argue that it did not



PS…I swear if you type fart in the yahoo search (unfiltered) that picture is top 12


Emergency exit seats on a red eye headed east from California…advantage tall person.


Discovering that those seats don’t recline…disadvantage tall person.


Tall person in a seat that wont recline…advantage booze


$5 beer on a domestic flight…advantage no one


Tall sober awake person in a seat that wont recline…shitty




Time to do my seat exercises


Wow…Its like we haven’t talked in weeks.  I miss our time together.  I want it to be like it was before finals.  I want you to laugh, I want to write.  Cant we just go back to a much simpler time?

Like when $20 was more than a full tank of gas, or when lead poisoning wasn’t something to be feared, but a right of passage.  When kids whacked it to Victoria’s Secret, and when celebrities made sex tapes that you just had to fantasize about because you were never going to see it.   

Why cant we just step back in time?  Huh?  Like when I was 30 lbs lighter and my clothes were still cool.  Oh I know it cant happen, mostly because they were never cool, but your missing the point.  I’m talking about feelings, and your laughing at my stone washed blue jeans with the button fly.  Stop it…cant you see my Hypercolor shirt is changing, because I’m sad…or because I sweat too much…anyway. 

We have a lot of catching up to do.  Things have changed. 

I’m no longer the fun loving rapscallion I once was.  I think we should use this week to get to know each other better.  A fresh start.  No lies…I’ll go first.  My name is Henry Cornelious Nectarbottom, and its a pleasure to write for you.


Time to Heal


PS Doesnt that feel good?