So, I'm in the market for a new gavel, and I've narrowed it down considerably from where I was last week.  Tough choice.  This could affect my entire career!

Of course, anyone who's anyone buys their gavels at gavelstore.com.  These are the ones I've narrowed it down to:
1.  I'm pretty fond of the rhombus, mosaic wooden gavel, seen here:

2.  But, on the other hand, why not spice things up with a bowling ball gavel?
3.  I'm also considering the idea of lollipop gavels, because then kids would have something to smash on the table and then eat.  Fun for everyone, including the cleaning staff.  And they do come in root beer flavor.I dunno.  This just isn't the kind of decision one makes in haste.  I'll have to sleep on it.

 

So, my firm offered me a new position.  But, it requires relocation.  And I'm pretty happy here.  So, I made a list of pros and cons and decided that I don't want to relocate.  Oh, and the job is on Mars.

Reasons why I don't want to move to Mars:
1.  The internet connection there is spotty, so I won't be able to play Call of Duty with my friends.
2.  Oxygen - I'm a big fan of it, and I hear there's not much there.
3.  I don't think I can lug all the books up there that I'll want to read for the rest of my life, and I think the ticket is one-way.
4.  That whole gravity thing is really going to mess up my jump-serve in volleyball.

while the sun is still out.

The other night, after I got home from volleyball, I attempted to kill a box of Samoas (yes, again, and I've got three more boxes; well,...two), lit a smoke, and goofed around on the internet. I washed the girl scout cookies down with a beer, put my feet on the furniture, and thought to myself, "Self, it's pretty awesome to be an adult.  Yes, Self, it is."

See, when I was a kid, my mom used to tell me that when I was an adult and I got to make the decisions, I could leave all the fucking lights on I want, but as long as I was in her house, living under her roof, goddammitt, then I had to turn the lights off when I leave a room!  And take your fucking shoes out of the middle of the goddamn kitchen!

Well, Mom, you were right.  After all those years of living under someone else's roof and someone else's rules, now I have my own roof so I get to make the rules.  Sometimes, I make the rules, just so I can break them.  Other times, I make a rule that there are no rules.  Sometimes I don't make any rules at all and I just wing it - NO FUCKING RULES!  Craziness!

I know I'm an adult, because I write in red pen, whenever I want.**  I even break grammatical rules - sometimes I start a sentence with a conjunction or leave out the subject of the sentence entirely.  In the summer, I turn on the heat and open the door, because I can.  Who's gonna stop me?  Occasionally, I call my mother and say, "I've got every light in the goddamn house on.  Whatcha gonna do about it?  Oh, and I just emptied all the shoes out of my closet into the middle of the kitchen floor.  I'm texting you a picture right now.  Come visit my house.  You'll enjoy my rules." 

I'm an adult, and YOU CAN TOO!

** Copyright Tortfeasor 2008

We've already got one lion, and I'm a midget lion tamer.  Who's in?!  After the lion act, I'm changing into my acrobat uniform so I can be a flying trapeze artist!

1.  Efficiency.
2.  My friends' short attention spans.
3.  My staff's short attention spans.
4.  My dog's short attention span.
5.  My.....

Dude, so last night I was lying in bed, eating my girl scout cookies, and reading a book on internet law. More specifically, I was browsing two books I picked up at the public library last week on e-commerce and internet law. Not the same thing, of course.

I thought I would share some of what I learned while reading "Internet Law and Business Handbook" and "The GigaLaw Guide to Internet Law: The One-Stop Legal Resource for Conducting Business Online."

Here are some quotes from my books on the history and current status of the internet:
1. "Before 1993, the applications used on the Internet, with the exception of email, were too confusing to use for most people." Lesson - the internet is complicated, and lots of people are dumb.
2. "Less than 5 percent of the people using the Internet today were using it five years ago and less than 0.1 percent were using it ten years ago." Oh, wait. I was using the internet ten years ago. I must've been ahead of the game. No other explanation.
3. "The final characteristic of Internet market companies is that they must be well-funded. A quick look at the results of most of these companies will show that only a handful are profitable yet and most are probably years from profitability." So, this internet thing hasn't really produced as much as people had hoped. Companies need to be really, really big to take advantage of the internet. No start-ups here. Maybe I should be worried about expanding into e-commerce. Good thing I read this book.

Here are some quotes from my books on the future of the internet:
1. "Companies who use the Internet as their primary market and Internet sales as their primary revenue generator are still the exception to the rule." Oooh! Another warning - still need bricks and mortar to make your company work. This whole "I-only-exist-online" thing is not a good idea.
2. "For large companies selling online, Internet sales are generally successful and improve revenues and profitability, but the jury is still out on the aggressive new business models of the Internet market companies." The jury's still out? Good thing I read this book. I wouldn't want to get all excited about the internet if it's not really going to take off .
3. "By 2006, almost half the workforce will be employed by industries that are either producers or heavy users of information technology products." So, this internet thing is really going to take off by 2006. That's good. I can't wait for 2006. I wonder what I'll be doing then. I can't wait for 2006. I hope I'm rich then.

Here's what I really learned:
Only dumbasses, when wanting to learn about internet law, read a book about the internet. I mean, really, Tort! A book on the internet! Why use a medium so current? Why didn't you look at cave drawings about the internet? Maybe that could help you in your research. Or maybe you could do a focus group with old people in nursing homes. You know, get their views on this whole internet thing. They've been around a long time and are very wise, so they would be the best source of information. Dumbass.

Finally! I have perfected it! I have designed a foolproof method to really fuck up any relationship that has potential. Dude, follow these steps and you are GUARANTEED to fuck up any good thing you got going.

FIRST, find someone you really like. I mean, reeeeallly like. I'm talking twinspeak, giggling in the middle of the night with glee at how happy you are, finishing each other's sentences - you know the drill. This method is fool-proof - use it on friends, use it on family (well, might not work on family; they never really go away, even when you want them to), use it on any relationship that matters to you. If you don't completely fuck that relationship up in two months, I'LL GIVE YOU YOUR MONEY BACK, no questions asked.**

SECOND, go all out when you start the relationship. Don't hold back. Just enjoy every second of each other's existence. Play together, sleep together, play together some more, send each other silly text messages like two twelve-year-olds falling in love for the first time. Don't hold back, because the more you are enjoying each other in the beginning, the easier it will be to achieve the remaining steps.

NEXT, just when the object of your affection starts really diggin' you, start acting crazy. I mean, batshit crazy - act the complete opposite of who he fell in love with. If he likes you because you're aloof and independent, start acting insecure and clingy. If he likes you because you're insecure and clingy, start acting aloof and independent. Just be sure to act nothing like the person he fell in love with.

PLEASE NOTE, people can forgive minor setbacks. Especially if he really loves you. That's what you gotta make sure this is a MAJOR setback. To really ensure that he never likes you again, you gotta stick that shank in deep and turn the handle. You gotta seal the deal. And you do that with the next two steps.

DOUBT. Doubt, doubt, doubt. Doubt everything he has every said to you. Doubt the connection. Doubt the relationship. Doubt him as a human being. (E.g., "you're not really from this planet, are you?" or "You can't possibly really love me - I'm a complete asshole!") Whatever you do, DO NOT BELIEVE. Doubt that love could ever exist for any two people ever. Doubt your mother's middle name. Doubt gravity, if you have to. Just doubt.

FINALLY, become so unbearably annoying that you can't even stand yourself. I mean, when you look in the mirror, you are downright disgusted. Nag. Point out flaws. Whine a lot - that works well. Complain that he doesn't love you like he used to. Complain that things are different now and what happened. Complain about work. Complain about your dog. Complain about the mailman. Complain about the mailman biting your dog. Make shit up if you have to. Just be sure that every word coming out of your mouth is as annoying to you as it is to him.

Well, that should do it. Good luck, all. If you have any questions, please send an email to idontgiveafuck@relationships.com. Per the advice of counsel, we will not respond to any correspondence. You're on your own, kid.

** TERMS OF MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE. To submit a claim for your money back, please supply us with the following:
1. Receipt for monies paid to us for this fool-proof system.
2. An itemized list of the steps you took, in accordance with the method spelled out above.
3. A blood sample.
4. A urine sample.
5. A bone marrow sample.
6. A signed, sworn, and notarized affidavit from the object of your desire, stating that despite your efforts, this person still loves you.
Send all of the following to the address listed on our website, and we will refund your money in full, at our discretion, when we feel like it and we have some extra cash lying around that is burning a hole in our pockets.

So, lately I've been thinking that I really want to go to prison. I know what you're thinking - we've been down this road before, and it's always the same pipe dream, Tortfeasor. But, this time I've really thought it through! I've even done research! And here's what I've come up with:

Reasons why I want to go to prison:
1. Three square meals, and I don't have to cook them. But, I guess if got bored, maybe they'd let me work in the prison kitchen. Maybe I could put in for a job in the kitchen and then really spice things up - eggs benedict, turkey bacon, homemade macaroni and cheese. I could really cause a stir in the prison kitchen. Prisoners would start making small talk over quiches and french bread. My food will unite the petty disagreements of women prisoners. Maybe on Game Night we'll do a prison-wide fondue.
2. Lots of time to read. What else can you do all day? Do they limit the number of books that you can have at once? I bet they don't, because people have to read quietly. People can't be reading and causing riots at the same time. So, there must be no limit on books you can have. I'll ask Quentin and get back to you.
3. Family can only visit during visiting hours, and they can't call you on your cell phone or nag you for not visiting them at home on Sundays.
4. I'll be in a women's prison! Dude, there's not going to be anal rape in the shower. It's women's prison.

Research on did on prison:
1. I talked to Quentin, a psychologist in a male prison in Los Angeles, and asked him how he liked his job.
2.  I spoke with Betty, a law student in New York City, and together we decided that insurance fraud was the way I would get into prison.  She said I'd be a hero!

Reasons why Quentin says I shouldn't go to prison:
1. "Women know how to stab, too, Tortfeasor."
2.  There are cannibals in Quentin's prison.  But they eat their own skin, not other people's.
3.  To stay alive in prison, I need to have the respect of the other prisoners.  He said insurance fraud isn't going to cut it.  He said it's got to be first-degree murder.

So, I'm off that prison kick again.  I'm not too excited about what I learned about prison today - getting there, staying there, and eating my own flesh to stay alive.

Part Two:  Next Research Project
What was Martha Stewart's prison like, and how do I get there?

1.  I can teleport.
2.  I make a kick-ass lasagna.
3.  I don't sweat.

I steal. I don't really understand why. I mean, it's not like I need the stuff; I just want it. Actually, I don't really even want it. I just take it.

I've never been caught, or even suspected of such a thing. I'm a B+ student. I don't shout out answers or talk back to teachers. I generally don't do anything to draw attention to myself - well, except maybe this. I've never even seen the inside of the principal's office. Don't get me wrong - I'm no teacher's pet. Actually, most of the time, my teachers can't even remember my name. It's not that I'm shy; people just forget that I'm there.

This stealing thing hasn't always been a problem. It started out small. Some girl in math class had this cool, neon-green plastic ruler. When you tilted it, the pieces of confetti inside sloshed around. I don't remember exactly how I took it or when, but it's in the second drawer of my little wooden desk at home. Then a trapper keeper. Then a bracelet.

The weird part is that I never use the stuff. Most of them, I just give to my little brother or throw it away. I don't even need the stuff.

Lately, everyone is suspicious of each other. The stealing has gotten out of control. My friends can't believe that anyone would take the present Mrs. Hill bought for her son or the money from the junior class bake sale. Who would do something so crazy, so stupid?

I don't know when or if it'll stop. I mean, I'm not even thinking about it - it just happens. I tell myself on the walk to the bus stop each morning that today I'll play it cool; today I won't take anything. But when I open my backpack at 2:30 each afternoon, it's full of a day's worth of loot. I've got to try to just play it cool for a week or two, maybe return a couple of the big things that people have been so upset about - Laurie Henderson's necklace, Matt's graphing calculator.

I'll figure something out.

When 4:00pm rolls around, the day is almost over for students at the university, but the day is just beginning for Stanley Stankowski.

He awakes late afternoon to the tinny sound of Sonny & Cher's "I Got You, Babe" coming from his clock-radio. Time to get up. After showering and putting on his team-issued coveralls and workboots, he is in his Chevy pickup and trucking towards campus.

Arriving on campus, Stan reports to headquarters in Skibo. Waiting in his locker are standard-issue bucket, sponges, and squeegee. He gathers up his tools and tucks his towel into his back pocket.

His work begins in room 1010, the first room on the right as he enters Doherty Hall. Eagerly, he dips his sponge into the soapy water and begins washing vertical stripes into the dusty chalkboard. Horizontal stripes finish the first part of the task. Next comes the squeegee. Then he repeats the steps to ensure the removal of every last pesky white speck of chalk. After the second squeegeeing, he dries the board in a circular motion with his towel. Stan steps back and admires his work with pride. With a sigh, he picks up his tools and heads down the corridor to the waiting chalkboards.

Six hours later, every chalkboard in Doherty Hall has undergone his treatment. As Stan crosses the Cut to check out at Headquarters, he turns and looks back. Out of Baker Hall, Porter Hall, and the College of Fine Arts, Stan can see the others streaming back towards Headquarters as well. They look tired and worn. Their sponges are dirty and ragged; their towels are wet and stained. Another night of chalkboard cleaning is over, but tomorrow night the boards will be awaiting Stan's arrival, having been returned to their dusty, dirty state.

Oh, the moment's gone. Next time.