It's one o'clock in the morning and I cannot think of a single thing to blog about. So I thought I'd just tell you what I've been up to and thinking about in the last week.
Please don't be jealous of how exciting my life is.
On Friday, I had to depose a defendant in a case that will go to trial in September. We were talking about his substance abuse history and he told me that he had smoked marijuana and "wets." I asked what that was and he explained that it's a joint that is laced with Angel Dust and is dipped in embalming fluid.
I'm sorry . . . WHAT??
Where do people come up with these things? And WHO came up with this one in particular? Do embalmers get that bored? I mean, I know I'd be dead so it wouldn't matter, but I don't want my embalmer to be high. And I CERTAINLY don't want him to be so high that he actually thinks soaking his joints in embalming fluid is a brilliant idea.
I also don't want him to be cute because he'll be seeing me naked when I can't suck my stomach in. But I digress . . .
This same defendant explained to us that he was kicked out of the Klan because they found out about his sex offenses. I asked how they found out about them and he said . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . they did a background check. The freakin' Klan did a freakin' BACKGROUND CHECK. Who knew?? Not I.
When I was leaving Huntsville the other day, I had to get gas so I stopped at a gas station that's right by Huntsville high school. The marquis at the gas station said "Go Hornets!" and that's when I realized that the high school mascot is a hornet. Really? A hornet? I mean, sure they hurt when they sting you. Sure they should be avoided whenever possible. But there is something inherently UNthreatening about a mascot that can be killed with a newspaper. Someone should have thought that through.
Why do I use this thing again??
I've been watching NCIS a lot this week - why am I so addicted to this show? I've noticed recently that every time they go search a murder victim's house, the house is always neat and usually has one little messy pile of mail somewhere in the camera shot. It's made me start thinking about how how I should pick up my dirty laundry before I leave so it's not out if people have to search my house. I mean I don't want them to walk in and see my - oh my goodness . . . this show is turning me into my mother.
So here I am sitting here with my creaky bra and a tissue hanging out of my left nostril.
Wanna come hang out?