Sorry for not posting like I had tweeted out, I got distracted by the SAG Awards and The Kardashians.Well no sense in sugar coating anything, so let me just jump right into the shit-show of a week I had last week. Complete and total shit-show. I mean not as bad as our country right now, but pretty close! What? Too soon?!
Anywho, moving on. I just want to put it out there that I have managed to avoid going Jury Duty for 20 years. I was very proud of this achievement until last week when my Juror number was called. Now I understand it’s my “civic duty” and all, but seriously there were 400 other people that could have handled that shit!
I won’t bore you with the details of Jury Duty as I’m sure some if not all of you have served at some point. I will tell you that I am completely traumatized from this experience. First off I only had the chance to have one cup of coffee before leaving for Court. I walked three blocks in freezing rain only to have way too many instructions being thrown at me! “Stand in line, everything out of your pockets, put your items in the bin, hold your notice so we can see, walk straight and make a right at the corner, form a single file line, once you get up to the check in table, hand the lady your notice, at that time you will give her your parking ticket, once you get checked in take a seat! I was like…
can I get a minute!?!
I got excited for like 2.5 seconds because I got a badge that said “Juror”, then I realized that I had to give it back at the end. Once I got to the check-in woman she took my notice and was like, “up the ramp and take a seat!” Now as I was approaching the ramp they had a sign that said, “no standing on the ramp”. Ummm how the hell does this bitch expect me walk up the ramp if I can’t stand on it? What did she want me to do, throw myself over the ramp? So I ran across the ramp instead. I starred at that sign for 15 minutes trying to comprehend it. Everyone that walked on the ramp I said, “um excuse me, you can’t stand on the ramp” and then just pointed at the sign.
I sit down and a woman asks me if she can go to the bathroom. I looked at her like:
“Yea sure go ahead”, I replied. Apparently I was the bathroom patrol! I never saw her after that! I think I helped her escape. So after that, we got to watch a movie. Not just any movie, but a movie on the importance of Jury Duty and Jurors. I can tell you’re all as enthused as I was. After the movie, the woman comes out and tells us to be prepared to stay there ALL DAY! Watchu mean all day?! I thought if you didn’t get picked you go home! This isn’t my civic duty, this is false imprisonment. Long story short they pulled 4 groups of 50 people and NOT ONCE was my number called. For those that don’t know I have A.D.H.D and Jury Duty is legit conversion therapy for A.D.H.D. people, pure fucking torture. After 7 hours of sitting still I was like:
On a brighter note, we managed to convert one of our cats to dogism. Not quite sure how that happened or when for that matter, but one of the cats thinks he’s a dog. I’m sure you’re wondering what I mean by this, so I shall explain. We have two dogs, which I like to refer to ass “drop kick” dogs because they’re the little yappy dogs. Now my wife, as previously mentioned treats these dogs as if they’re our fur children. Since these are apparently our “children” they use wee wee pads. Not for any other reason but because my wife is afraid to let them go out into the back yard because she thinks that a hawk or eagle will pick them up and take them away. Isn’t she pretty?! So in any event, apparently Jax (the cag) is now using the wee wee pads as well. I know, you’re reactions the same as mine:
As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, my wife’s response was “he’s so smart, he watches the dogs and now thinks he’s a dog. He even folds up the pad after he’s done, that’s why you can train cats to use the toilet!” Okay this is where I react like:
He’s a CAT….he’s not a dog. What the hell am I supposed to do, give him a treat for using a wee wee pad when he has a liter box?! There is no way I’m teaching a fucking cat to use the toilet either! Cat’s can’t become dogs. It’s just not possible and if we somehow managed to convert a cat into a dog that has a cat’s body I’m patenting that shit and I want a friggen Nobel Peace Prize!
As if my week couldn’t get any worse I ran out of windshield washer fluid and kept forgetting to stop and pick some up. Which means every day I drive to and from work like this:
Pretty sad right? Wait… there’s more. I come home last Thursday night to an empty house and by empty I mean no kids, candles burning and incense burning. I’m thinking to myself “oooh it’s date night!” No, nope, not date night! My lovely wife greets me with a hug only to inform me that she almost burned our house down! How you ask? Let me enlighten you. She was making a pork roast but “forgot” that she had a box of twinkles in the bottom part of the oven, so when she preheated the oven, the twinkles caught fire. She tells me that Carlton noticed the flames behind the oven and ran over and ripped the box of twinkles out of the oven and threw it on the floor and hosed it down with the sink hose. Somehow the oven catching fire turned into “ya know we really need to re-do this kitchen because we need more cabinet space!”