Thursday, October 16, 2014

Don't Judge Me By The Size of My....

Well, judge for yourselves and fill in the blanks, you scientific geniuses out there. . ..

I don't like judges who try to judge me on the color of my polyesters and my "I love Momma" tattoos.

As I had dictated to my stenographer the last time in court, "I hate fricking judges who think they're members of the Cabinet or worse yet, God incarnate." 

Just because I was ticketed for doing five mph in a 65mph zone, doesn't mean hizzoner should take it upon himself and fine me three dollars for every mile I drove under the minimum. 

Hizzoner assessed me a fine of $255.00 which, by the way, does not equate to three dollars a mile. I told the judge, "I think you made an error in your calculations." 

He decided that I was in contempt of his court and threw the book at me. Not only was it a poorly written book and had been banned in sixty-six countries including England, its corners were sharp and jagged and made my head bleed. I should sue but I'm afraid if I do, I'd end up in the same court with the same judge and then what, hire a librarian to represent me?

Really, I believe to an extent the judicial system and try to abide by it's rules and laws and protocol but sometimes, some of the shit is absolutely ridiculous. I had been told before I was old enough to wear diapers, "Ricky Boy, you'd make a great lawyer."

"You know what, Miss Babysitter; I think you're right! But, if you'd first stop bouncing me atop your lap as if I were a rag doll, I'd tell you a story. It's about the life of Abe Lincoln, a poor farmer boy who grew up to be a lawyer and then became President and did a few good things like help free the slaves after hanging out his shingle at his new address - I think it was The Gettysburg Address."



By Rick J. Fico


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