1.14.2011

Overheard on The People's Court


I'm practically a lawyer. I didn't go to law school, but I think I have experience that is equivalent to a law degree. Why? Well, over the past few years, I have logged probably a hundred hours watching court TV shows—and if it isn't really a hundred, it just FEELS like that many. I tend to focus on Judge Judy and Marilyn Milian who are, at this point, not only my models but my mentors. These chicks get it DONE with a gavel. Surly old broad and hot-blooded Latina. Both awesome.

Recently, I watched a case where Tyrone was accusing his friend Lashawn of stealing his gun. They'd been friends for fifteen years, and even though they were close, Tyrone said Lashawn was a SNAKE. In fact, Lashawn had a habit of cock-blocking on a very regular basis. He steals females from his buddy, so maybe he steals firearms from him, too.

So, Lashawn drove the two of them to a club, and when they parked, Tyrone left his [registered and legal] gun in the car. But when they came out at the end of the night, even though the car was still locked, Tyrone's gun was missing. Apparently, Lashawn was victimized as well; his hoodie and skullcap had walked. (Gun vs. hoodie. Totally the same. Reminds me of those evil idiots who kill someone, shoot off a half-inch of skin from their own forearm, then claim it was all done by a masked freak during a carjacking gone bad. Whatever.) Anyway, the whole thing is--I am sure you agree--shocking. Quite shocking.

But what was even more shocking was that Lashawn kept insisting that he never took the gun out of the GLOVE DEPARTMENT. There is no lock on the GLOVE DEPARTMENT, and everyone knows that when someone breaks into a car, the first place they look is the GLOVE DEPARTMENT. Besides, he never even saw the gun in the GLOVE DEPARTMENT, but maybe the two other buddies who were riding in the back seat saw it and had opened the GLOVE DEPARTMENT and taken it. He was innocent, obviously.

Of stealing, that is. But of murdering the English language? Verdict: GUILTY.

I don't have a single drop of Latin blood in me to my knowledge, but I know I would have gone loco listening to that guy. I would have held him in contempt. Found him guilty of irritating me. Climbed over the big, high judgy desk thingy and strangled him with his own sloppily-knotted, Walmart necktie. Judges exact justice, not mercy...right?

But the Honorable Judge Marilyn Milian? She kept a straight face and didn't even correct him. Didn't even flinch. That hot-blooded Latina kept it cool, banged that gavel, and let the dude go without sentencing him to mandatory English classes.

Yeah, that was probably the right way to handle it. Never mind. I can't be a judge.

2 comments:

Randi said...

R*****, is this YOU? My doughnut burger-eating, Dino-listening, Costco-loving, fellow Settler of Catan?

Happy Dog said...

My love, my life, my favorite Settler...all hail the Lordess of Catan! Thou art a mighty, wise, and terrible queen of the island. Oh, how I miss you! Found your blog quite by accident, and glad I did because you are, of course, hilarious. Then again, we have a similar style, so maybe I love your stuff because I love my stuff. I mean, SOMEONE has to laugh at my postings, even if that person is ME! What a freakin' narcissist I can be...