Before I get into talking about Jury Duty, I want to say that HA, I am SO vindicated.  Remember how I wasn’t feeling humorous the other day and was a bit down about it.  Well… ha!  Yesterday I had a fever and even got to hallucinate!  Hot Damn!  This means it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t funny, although I am not planning to go to the doctor because as soon as she asks me the symptoms, I’d have to mention the temporary demise of my sense of humor, and since she doesn’t necessarily have one (seen no evidence yet) then it might make the visit a lot longer than I wanted.  But vindication is sweet, man.

Right, so the point.  Jury Duty.  One of my dearest friends has it, and I’m dead jealous.  I could have thwapped her for going on and on about how she wanted to get out of it.  Are you kidding me?

Jury Duty

If I could be a professional juror I would.  That be SO cool.  I’d sit and take copious notes, and feel the warm rush of power coursing through me as I decided the fate of a probably guilty idiot who was too dumb not to get caught doing whatever it was they were doing.  GUILTY!  GUILTY!

Besides, you really want some gomer getting picked for jury duty?  Well that’s exactly who gets it if we don’t show up, and we, Bitter Readers, are probably more qualified than anyone because of our obvious intelligence and superiour sense of humour!  Not that Jury Duty is funny… gno wei.  It’s serious business!  GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY, Dammit!

Sigh… I wonder why they never pick me?  Maybe now that I’m applying for British citizenship, this whole new country will give me a chance to show them what a true asset I could be to their criminal justice system.  I can’t freaking wait!

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