Today in my mailbox at work I received a pamphlet entitled "What you need to know about your reporting requirements as a Registered Sex Offender in Wisconsin." Now, I don't know how they found me, but I'm glad they did. This sounds like a pretty sweet deal. I have to fill out a little information and send it in to the Wisconsin Sex Offender Registry, then I'm all set. I'll get the periodic emails, the newsletter ("The Weekly Rapist"), a club t-shirt with the phrase "Sexually Offensive" in big pink letters over a black background, and an invitation to the monthly meeting, where I imagine we'll trade war stories and tips.
Anyone else down?
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Quotable
"God, there's so much things I hate! I can't even grammar correctly."
- Andrew Ismael Martinez
EDIT: This quote has been changed to reflect the statement more accurately, as per author's request.
EDIT: This quote has been changed again, and is now actually correct. But I don't appreciate the author's tone in attempting to correct me, so I will publish another of his quotes:
"NSYNC was a band I could get behind, if you know what I mean."
- Andrew Ismael Martinez
EDIT: This quote has been changed to reflect the statement more accurately, as per author's request.
EDIT: This quote has been changed again, and is now actually correct. But I don't appreciate the author's tone in attempting to correct me, so I will publish another of his quotes:
"NSYNC was a band I could get behind, if you know what I mean."
Thursday, June 22, 2006
I Know Kung Fu
 | You scored as Neo, the "One". Neo is the computer hacker-turned-Messiah of the Matrix. He leads a small group of human rebels against the technology that controls them. Neo doubts his ability to lead but doesn't want to disappoint his friends. His goal is for a world where all men know the Truth and are free from the bonds of the Matrix.
Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com |
The Unfailing Stupidity of the Criminal Mind
Working in the prosecutor's office, I come into contact with a vast amount of criminal cases. And, as you can imagine, criminals aren't generally the most intellectually proficient class of citizens out there. And with the amount of criminal behavior I end up reading about, my job can be pretty entertaining at times. After making a charging decision, I occasionally end up meeting these people in court for their hearings and speaking with them about the State's offer. So it's like "Sir, if you'd like to plead to this charge, we'll dismiss the lower count, recommend 20 days in jail, a $350 fine, and present you with a Darwin award for your astonishingly moronic exploits. Thanks for playing, I'm sure I'll see you again next week."
A few examples of the mastermind element:
A cop pulls a woman over for drunk driving. As he's going back to his squad car to get the breathalyzer, the woman's friend drives by, also plastered, and sees her friend stopped by the cop. So, in a brazen display of mental deficiency, she pulls her vehicle over, gets out and runs toward the officer. She then begins to harass the officer, asking him why in the hell he pulled over her friend. Naturally, the officer arrests the second woman for drunk driving and obstructing a police officer.
The police found a man alleged to be having sex with an underaged woman. The police stop him, ask him his name, and he tells them "Michael Jordan." Now, of all the false identification choices you can give, why go with an internationally known superstar athlete? The police report was great because it read something like "After looking the suspect over, the officer suspected that this man was, in fact, not Michael Jordan." And at court, it was all I could do to restrain myself from going over to the defense table and asking him for his autograph.
An officer pulls over a car full of three young guys. They are all drunk, and they have marijuana in the vehicle. The cop walks up and approaches the driver, who rolls down his window. At this time, the other two passengers attempt to duck down to escape the officer's view. I can just imagine how this plays out: the officer is standing at the window, shining his flashlight at the two idiots who are ducking down out of view, and he says "Uh...excuse me....you fellas do know I can see you, right?"
This one is less funny, but equally bizarre to me. A couple has been married for twenty years. One day they arrive home from a dinner, and the husband is going to head upstairs. He says he's going upstairs, and his wife responds with something like "Copy?" At this point, the husband becomes enraged, and rushes back down. A knock-down, drag-out, marriage-ending fight ensues. So I get to dictate the domestic disorderly conduct complaint. "Officers responded to a domestic disturbance between a husband and wife, where a boisterous and violent disagreement broke out after the wife uttered the unforgiveable curse of "Copy?" Now, I'm told this isn't uncommon with domestics, and plenty more must have been simmering under the surface. Thankfully I only got to see the straw that blew the entire marriage all to hell.
And, lastly, there was a case in Racine where a woman had a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend. The guy then attempted to violate the order by seeing her again, and tried to break into her house. So he smashed his arm through her window and tried to climb in. However, he cut his arm badly on the broken glass, so he decided not to continue climbing through. At that point he attempted to flee. But his arm was cut so badly that he bled to death on the way home. That just goes to show you - violating a restraining order might just get your stupid ass killed.
I'll keep you updated as the contenders roll in.
A few examples of the mastermind element:
A cop pulls a woman over for drunk driving. As he's going back to his squad car to get the breathalyzer, the woman's friend drives by, also plastered, and sees her friend stopped by the cop. So, in a brazen display of mental deficiency, she pulls her vehicle over, gets out and runs toward the officer. She then begins to harass the officer, asking him why in the hell he pulled over her friend. Naturally, the officer arrests the second woman for drunk driving and obstructing a police officer.
The police found a man alleged to be having sex with an underaged woman. The police stop him, ask him his name, and he tells them "Michael Jordan." Now, of all the false identification choices you can give, why go with an internationally known superstar athlete? The police report was great because it read something like "After looking the suspect over, the officer suspected that this man was, in fact, not Michael Jordan." And at court, it was all I could do to restrain myself from going over to the defense table and asking him for his autograph.
An officer pulls over a car full of three young guys. They are all drunk, and they have marijuana in the vehicle. The cop walks up and approaches the driver, who rolls down his window. At this time, the other two passengers attempt to duck down to escape the officer's view. I can just imagine how this plays out: the officer is standing at the window, shining his flashlight at the two idiots who are ducking down out of view, and he says "Uh...excuse me....you fellas do know I can see you, right?"
This one is less funny, but equally bizarre to me. A couple has been married for twenty years. One day they arrive home from a dinner, and the husband is going to head upstairs. He says he's going upstairs, and his wife responds with something like "Copy?" At this point, the husband becomes enraged, and rushes back down. A knock-down, drag-out, marriage-ending fight ensues. So I get to dictate the domestic disorderly conduct complaint. "Officers responded to a domestic disturbance between a husband and wife, where a boisterous and violent disagreement broke out after the wife uttered the unforgiveable curse of "Copy?" Now, I'm told this isn't uncommon with domestics, and plenty more must have been simmering under the surface. Thankfully I only got to see the straw that blew the entire marriage all to hell.
And, lastly, there was a case in Racine where a woman had a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend. The guy then attempted to violate the order by seeing her again, and tried to break into her house. So he smashed his arm through her window and tried to climb in. However, he cut his arm badly on the broken glass, so he decided not to continue climbing through. At that point he attempted to flee. But his arm was cut so badly that he bled to death on the way home. That just goes to show you - violating a restraining order might just get your stupid ass killed.
I'll keep you updated as the contenders roll in.
Monday, June 19, 2006
The High Life
Today marked the end of another extravagent weekend. I spent the weekend between Madison and Devil's Lake with the lovely Ms. Purple Hays.
In the clouds.
We decided to go camping, so we gathered our sleeping bags, flashlights, bayonets, s'more ingredients, bear repellent, firewood, PBR, and tactical nuclear weapons, and piled them into the vehicle before trekking into the wilderness (re: there were multiple trees in the vicinity). The amount of supplies we took along for the one night stay was rather obscene, but not nearly as obscene as your mom's face.
Due to the massive FIB influx, all the campsites within the Devil's Lake campgrounds were booked, so we were relegated to staying all the way on the other side of the street, in a fairly decent campground called Nordic Pines. After setting up the tent, we went back into the park. The weather was a stifling 18000 degrees as we began our hike up the western bluff of Mt. Doom, but the views were spectacular as always.
Breathtaking scenery.
The lake was cool too.
On the way back down, the humidity lightened and we had a pretty decent breeze. We made our way around to the south shore to rendezvous with a chili dog and another friend who was at the park that day as well. After a brief cool down in the lake, where Kristin and I utterly failed to dazzle anyone with our lack of frisbee abilities, we chilled on the shore and took in some sun.
Then it was back up the eastern bluff. More picturesque sights, and a fair amount of rocks:
Rocks.
Also, the water was doing some sort of wicked ripple effect, as depicted here:
We decided to skip the Devil's Doorway and other surrounding attractions for the day, as we would do more hiking the next day. So we headed down across the bluff, and on that historic voyage, Cake Day was formed. Feeling good about the hiking experience and the prospect of grilled brats and cake on the horizon, we headed back.
One brief stop to WalMart later, and bad-ass chocolate truffle cake was secured:
Bad-ass!
Then back to the camp site. No sooner had the brats hit the grill than the heavens opened and began to rain on our goddamn parade. But we persevered, eating the brats inside the tent, and followed them up with the first of what would promise to be several helpings of phenomenal cake. The rain let up after awhile, and we (re: Kristin) built a fire. Through sheer pyromaniacal genius, she was able to build us an impressive display of fire, and thus began the roasting of marshmallows. The scent of 'mallow in the air inevitably attracted a stampeding horde of bison:
Interlopers.
We then fought the bison to a Mexican standoff (re: we kicked their furry little mallow-stealin' asses) with only our bare hands, and some sizeable branches we retrieved after Kristin punched through a tree. The bison scurried off, and we toasted our success with s'mores, and/or cake.
But the celebration was short lived, as the rain rolled back in. We grabbed all the essentials and retreated (in a guns blazing, very non-French fashion) back into our tent. It poured pretty steadily for the next few hours, and soaked through while we were trying to sleep, so that we were still getting a little damp.
Fortunately, by the time we awoke, it was STILL RAINING, so we stayed in the tent to wait it out. When it appeared the storm had more patience than either of us, we once again gathered our respective important shit and hopped in the vehicle to head home. We didn't get to do round two of the hiking, which was disappointing. But we did plenty the first day, and rumors have already surfaced as to continuing the Devil's Lake excursion for my birthday in October, a storied tradition established back in 2005.
Sunday was still pretty awesome. A little Firefly, a little cake, lunch with friends at a needlessly busy restaurant, a return visit from the esteemed Mr. McNamara. Then KH and I fired up the grill once more, this time in prime sniping position from the roof of her apartment, a previously unknown and seriously kickass location overlooking Lake Monona. More brats, more cake, more fantastic company. Then more friends, watching poker, messing with the good folks at Milios, a trip to Cold Stone, a trip back where certain people began to shout loudly and publicly a description of fellatio at the naive urging of the rest of us. Then, long goodbyes, and a longer drive back to O-town, where the real world awaits.
Summer, summer, summertime.....
In the clouds.
We decided to go camping, so we gathered our sleeping bags, flashlights, bayonets, s'more ingredients, bear repellent, firewood, PBR, and tactical nuclear weapons, and piled them into the vehicle before trekking into the wilderness (re: there were multiple trees in the vicinity). The amount of supplies we took along for the one night stay was rather obscene, but not nearly as obscene as your mom's face.
Due to the massive FIB influx, all the campsites within the Devil's Lake campgrounds were booked, so we were relegated to staying all the way on the other side of the street, in a fairly decent campground called Nordic Pines. After setting up the tent, we went back into the park. The weather was a stifling 18000 degrees as we began our hike up the western bluff of Mt. Doom, but the views were spectacular as always.
Breathtaking scenery.
The lake was cool too.
On the way back down, the humidity lightened and we had a pretty decent breeze. We made our way around to the south shore to rendezvous with a chili dog and another friend who was at the park that day as well. After a brief cool down in the lake, where Kristin and I utterly failed to dazzle anyone with our lack of frisbee abilities, we chilled on the shore and took in some sun.
Then it was back up the eastern bluff. More picturesque sights, and a fair amount of rocks:
Rocks.
Also, the water was doing some sort of wicked ripple effect, as depicted here:
We decided to skip the Devil's Doorway and other surrounding attractions for the day, as we would do more hiking the next day. So we headed down across the bluff, and on that historic voyage, Cake Day was formed. Feeling good about the hiking experience and the prospect of grilled brats and cake on the horizon, we headed back.
One brief stop to WalMart later, and bad-ass chocolate truffle cake was secured:
Bad-ass!
Then back to the camp site. No sooner had the brats hit the grill than the heavens opened and began to rain on our goddamn parade. But we persevered, eating the brats inside the tent, and followed them up with the first of what would promise to be several helpings of phenomenal cake. The rain let up after awhile, and we (re: Kristin) built a fire. Through sheer pyromaniacal genius, she was able to build us an impressive display of fire, and thus began the roasting of marshmallows. The scent of 'mallow in the air inevitably attracted a stampeding horde of bison:
Interlopers.
We then fought the bison to a Mexican standoff (re: we kicked their furry little mallow-stealin' asses) with only our bare hands, and some sizeable branches we retrieved after Kristin punched through a tree. The bison scurried off, and we toasted our success with s'mores, and/or cake.
But the celebration was short lived, as the rain rolled back in. We grabbed all the essentials and retreated (in a guns blazing, very non-French fashion) back into our tent. It poured pretty steadily for the next few hours, and soaked through while we were trying to sleep, so that we were still getting a little damp.
Fortunately, by the time we awoke, it was STILL RAINING, so we stayed in the tent to wait it out. When it appeared the storm had more patience than either of us, we once again gathered our respective important shit and hopped in the vehicle to head home. We didn't get to do round two of the hiking, which was disappointing. But we did plenty the first day, and rumors have already surfaced as to continuing the Devil's Lake excursion for my birthday in October, a storied tradition established back in 2005.
Sunday was still pretty awesome. A little Firefly, a little cake, lunch with friends at a needlessly busy restaurant, a return visit from the esteemed Mr. McNamara. Then KH and I fired up the grill once more, this time in prime sniping position from the roof of her apartment, a previously unknown and seriously kickass location overlooking Lake Monona. More brats, more cake, more fantastic company. Then more friends, watching poker, messing with the good folks at Milios, a trip to Cold Stone, a trip back where certain people began to shout loudly and publicly a description of fellatio at the naive urging of the rest of us. Then, long goodbyes, and a longer drive back to O-town, where the real world awaits.
Summer, summer, summertime.....
Cake Day
Birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, Easter, Thanksgiving, Arbor Day - - all enjoyable holidays, but all come only once a year. But this weekend marked the dawning of a new holiday, one which can come at any time of year. That's right - - Cake Day. A holiday for those of us who believe the food pyramid should go eat itself, and are not afraid to tell it so by consuming massive quantities of delicious chocolate cake. All it takes is a simple declaration (a non-binding resolution, if you will) that screw everything, it's time to eat yourself some good-ass cake. Then, you and your friends/loved ones/complete strangers need only head to your local cake dealership, purchase the most ridiculously unhealthy cake you can find, and commence gluttony.
Those are the only rules. As such, Cake Day is quite flexible. It can be held concurrent with any other holiday, thereby enhancing said holiday. It can stand on its own, bringing much needed cheer to an otherwise cakeless existence. The cake does not need to be eaten in one sitting; on the contrary, spreading the consumption over time only increases the enjoyment. Thus Cake Day can easily turn into Cake Weekend, or (theoretically) Cake Week. Anything beyond that might be problemmatic, because once you reach the inevitable 500 lb mark, it will become difficult to roll yourself into an upright position and then proceed to the store for more cake. Therefore, like all good things, Cake Day should be applied in moderation, lest the desire to consume cake destroy the ability to consume more cake.
Despite the potential pitfalls, I would strongly urge you all to consider marking Cake Day on your calendars. ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE YOU WANT.
It's Cake Day, bitches!
Those are the only rules. As such, Cake Day is quite flexible. It can be held concurrent with any other holiday, thereby enhancing said holiday. It can stand on its own, bringing much needed cheer to an otherwise cakeless existence. The cake does not need to be eaten in one sitting; on the contrary, spreading the consumption over time only increases the enjoyment. Thus Cake Day can easily turn into Cake Weekend, or (theoretically) Cake Week. Anything beyond that might be problemmatic, because once you reach the inevitable 500 lb mark, it will become difficult to roll yourself into an upright position and then proceed to the store for more cake. Therefore, like all good things, Cake Day should be applied in moderation, lest the desire to consume cake destroy the ability to consume more cake.
Despite the potential pitfalls, I would strongly urge you all to consider marking Cake Day on your calendars. ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE YOU WANT.
It's Cake Day, bitches!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Falling Apart
So I've been on a massive streak of awesomeness lately, simply put. I can't remember the last time I was this happy with my life. And yet, my health appears to be deteriorating in direct proportion to my increased happiness. Starting with the tapeworm, who has made a major reemergence during the past two months, after nearly two years of relative inactivity. At this point, that bastard is pretty much flamethrowing after every meal. The suggested solution is to eat smaller meals more often, but if the meals I eat become any smaller, there won't be any actual food being consumed. On the plus side, I could fulfill one of my major life's goals -- becoming Skeletor. On the down side, everything else. So I've got that going for me.
Then I've got some new battle wounds, mostly from playing soccer. Strictly speaking, I don't have any air quote "skill" at soccer - - I was more of a badass defender that outran people for the ball, and hit anyone I couldn't outrun. This more than made up for my lack of technical skill, as I was team captain for two years and actually made all conference one year. But now that I've started another outdoor rec league for the summer, my smashmouth style of play has backfired a bit. In my first game, I got knocked around a lot, mostly by other people getting frustrated and going after me. At any other time, this would have been fine, because I like that type of game. But this time I wasn't wearing my titanium exoskeleton for protection, and I'm pretty sure I bruised a rib pretty badly, because I've been in serious chest pain for the past 10 days. It makes it painful to sneeze or blow my nose. It even cut into my golf game, which is absolutely unacceptable.
I had another soccer game two nights ago, and thought perhaps I should try to avoid taking any hits this time. So that's what I did. But both of my quads were on the verge of cramping up the entire game, from the very first line I ran. So I sat out half of the first half just stretching, and came back in the second half, but had the same problems. They never actually locked up, thankfully, but the threat was always there. And in the past couple days, one of the muscles is still really tight and painful.
In one word, I can officially be described as "decrepit." I'm putting serious thought into getting a cane, to go along with my unintentional pimp strut. What's really embarassing is that putting on my right sock has turned into a death match lately, between my cramped up leg muscle and my bruised rib that won't allow me to lean down.
I hate to say it, but pretty soon they're gonna have to ship me off to the old ninja's home.
Then I've got some new battle wounds, mostly from playing soccer. Strictly speaking, I don't have any air quote "skill" at soccer - - I was more of a badass defender that outran people for the ball, and hit anyone I couldn't outrun. This more than made up for my lack of technical skill, as I was team captain for two years and actually made all conference one year. But now that I've started another outdoor rec league for the summer, my smashmouth style of play has backfired a bit. In my first game, I got knocked around a lot, mostly by other people getting frustrated and going after me. At any other time, this would have been fine, because I like that type of game. But this time I wasn't wearing my titanium exoskeleton for protection, and I'm pretty sure I bruised a rib pretty badly, because I've been in serious chest pain for the past 10 days. It makes it painful to sneeze or blow my nose. It even cut into my golf game, which is absolutely unacceptable.
I had another soccer game two nights ago, and thought perhaps I should try to avoid taking any hits this time. So that's what I did. But both of my quads were on the verge of cramping up the entire game, from the very first line I ran. So I sat out half of the first half just stretching, and came back in the second half, but had the same problems. They never actually locked up, thankfully, but the threat was always there. And in the past couple days, one of the muscles is still really tight and painful.
In one word, I can officially be described as "decrepit." I'm putting serious thought into getting a cane, to go along with my unintentional pimp strut. What's really embarassing is that putting on my right sock has turned into a death match lately, between my cramped up leg muscle and my bruised rib that won't allow me to lean down.
I hate to say it, but pretty soon they're gonna have to ship me off to the old ninja's home.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Big Guns
As a master of all devastatingly effective yet fictional trial tactics, I have a new one to share with you. It is a new objection, one that should be used sparingly for maximum effect, and one which should be used only when the context is completely nonsensical. Witness as follows:
---
Atty: So Mr. X, you don't actually have any first hand knowledge about this incident, do you?
Vice: Objection -- your mom's face doesn't have any first hand knowledge!
---
Now, if used at the appropriate (re: entirely inappropriate) places, this little gem will swing the court to your side with all deliberate speed. Because after all, there's nothing a judge or jury respects more than someone with enough cajones to call out your adversary's mom's face.
---
Atty: So Mr. X, you don't actually have any first hand knowledge about this incident, do you?
Vice: Objection -- your mom's face doesn't have any first hand knowledge!
---
Now, if used at the appropriate (re: entirely inappropriate) places, this little gem will swing the court to your side with all deliberate speed. Because after all, there's nothing a judge or jury respects more than someone with enough cajones to call out your adversary's mom's face.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Thus Spake the Deville
Apparently hardcore devil-worshippers just aren't what they used to be. On a local news story last night, they had footage of some satanists who had vandalized someone's property, including painting the side of their shed with demonic phrases.
The one that caught my attention: "Hail Satin!"
Now, forgive me, but if I choose to worship something thusly, I would generally like to find out how to spell it, to avoid embarassing myself and my fellow Satinists.
When reached for comment as to why Satin is king, one of the diehard followers proclaimed "He feels so silky smooth against my skin."
The one that caught my attention: "Hail Satin!"
Now, forgive me, but if I choose to worship something thusly, I would generally like to find out how to spell it, to avoid embarassing myself and my fellow Satinists.
When reached for comment as to why Satin is king, one of the diehard followers proclaimed "He feels so silky smooth against my skin."
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
All Up In It
Just finished the second day working for the state. So what do I do all day? Honestly, I sit around the court room all day and look fly.
So far I haven't actually said anything, mostly just intimidated people with my presence. Tomorrow I might get to conduct the bond hearings though. You know how that's going down:
Judge: "Mr Vice, what does the State recommend?" V: "Your honor, the State recommends Mr. Ramirez should go fuck himself." Or "Your honor, the State's not greedy. All I'm looking for is a cash bond, $200 G's, and when 48 hours is up, bitch betta have my money."
My primary focus for the summer will be criminal traffic cases. Doesn't sound like much, I know - - mostly OWI's and operation after revocation. But with the high volume caseload, I'm pretty much guaranteed to get a couple jury trials. Next week I might have a couple bench trials, depending on whether or not the people settle beforehand (or show up).
It's been really cool so far. At least half of what I'll be doing is getting out an interacting with people, whether its doing initial appearances or bail hearings or possibly a couple trials. I get to see how the law affects real people, and I like that. I imagine it will get pretty tedious as I start to see the same things over and over, but for now I like it.
I just wish I could transport this thing to Madison. Not only could I be around my friends, but then my criminal traffic cases would lean more toward drive-bys, which I'm much more familiar with.
So far I haven't actually said anything, mostly just intimidated people with my presence. Tomorrow I might get to conduct the bond hearings though. You know how that's going down:
Judge: "Mr Vice, what does the State recommend?" V: "Your honor, the State recommends Mr. Ramirez should go fuck himself." Or "Your honor, the State's not greedy. All I'm looking for is a cash bond, $200 G's, and when 48 hours is up, bitch betta have my money."
My primary focus for the summer will be criminal traffic cases. Doesn't sound like much, I know - - mostly OWI's and operation after revocation. But with the high volume caseload, I'm pretty much guaranteed to get a couple jury trials. Next week I might have a couple bench trials, depending on whether or not the people settle beforehand (or show up).
It's been really cool so far. At least half of what I'll be doing is getting out an interacting with people, whether its doing initial appearances or bail hearings or possibly a couple trials. I get to see how the law affects real people, and I like that. I imagine it will get pretty tedious as I start to see the same things over and over, but for now I like it.
I just wish I could transport this thing to Madison. Not only could I be around my friends, but then my criminal traffic cases would lean more toward drive-bys, which I'm much more familiar with.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Home
I've been back in Oshkosh for roughly 30 hours now. It’s pretty, and familiar, and comforting, and somehow horribly wrong.
If I knew I didn’t have to stay, I’d really be enjoying this.
I just don’t want to be here.
I want to go home.
If I knew I didn’t have to stay, I’d really be enjoying this.
I just don’t want to be here.
I want to go home.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I'm Just Here to Protect the Donuts, Ma'am
I'm not going to be prosecuting homicide cases this summer. I understand that. We're all better off that way, because I'm not sure I'd want that kind of burden this early, with the possibility where my own mistakes or inexperience could allow a murderer or rapist to go free. (Of course, even if they did, I would hunt them down afterward and administer some street justice. But still, I do that anonymously, and it doesn't help my legal reputation).
However, there is a good possibility I will be prosecuting ridiculous cases this summer. For instance, today in our final Trial Advocacy class there was a case where a college guy went into a store, took some donuts, and ate them without paying. Then he tried to escape the store, and when the police were called, he resisted arrest. So, today we were practicing opening and closing arguments. The first guy got up and gave a short but pseudo-heartfelt and tearful plea to prosecute this terrible man who went in and ate $2.59 worth of bakery. Straight-up fucking hilarious. The next guy was a little more serious, but he did come up with a classic line about the store: "They were just trying to protect their donuts." Whether he was trying to be serious or not, this had everyone laughing.
Kempinen assured us that these cases are somewhat rare, but they do happen. So now I'm imagining myself in this role for the summer. I'm the guy that lays down the law on the bizarre and trivial. So if you're thinking about rolling through Winnebago County this summer and taking a magic marker and doodling on all the bananas, or hunting squirrels with Nerf guns, or assaulting an officer with a tube of chapstick, I'm all over your ass.
However, there is a good possibility I will be prosecuting ridiculous cases this summer. For instance, today in our final Trial Advocacy class there was a case where a college guy went into a store, took some donuts, and ate them without paying. Then he tried to escape the store, and when the police were called, he resisted arrest. So, today we were practicing opening and closing arguments. The first guy got up and gave a short but pseudo-heartfelt and tearful plea to prosecute this terrible man who went in and ate $2.59 worth of bakery. Straight-up fucking hilarious. The next guy was a little more serious, but he did come up with a classic line about the store: "They were just trying to protect their donuts." Whether he was trying to be serious or not, this had everyone laughing.
Kempinen assured us that these cases are somewhat rare, but they do happen. So now I'm imagining myself in this role for the summer. I'm the guy that lays down the law on the bizarre and trivial. So if you're thinking about rolling through Winnebago County this summer and taking a magic marker and doodling on all the bananas, or hunting squirrels with Nerf guns, or assaulting an officer with a tube of chapstick, I'm all over your ass.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)